Aria

 

 

 

Me. Aria Dixon. Blushing because a man said naked bodies. Not just that, but what he wore could burn the inside of a glacier. How was I to concentrate when Alex Hawthorne, the man full of sculpted muscle and corruptible sexuality, wore a pasted on black T-shirt, jeans, and bare feet?

“What do you mean naked bodies? There are two, maybe three if you count the cherub.” I turned to him, my face serious. “I understand if you want to scrap this whole thing.”

His amazing, sexy gray eyes widened and for that moment, I wondered what his O-face looked like.

Ever since Mrs. Hawthorne asked me to pop her son’s cherry a week and a half ago, I couldn’t stop thinking about sex when it came to Alex. Everything turned sexual and it’s creeping me out.

Don’t get me wrong, I like sex but when I work, I focus on the art. Now I can’t concentrate. Not when he’s standing next to me, heat rolling off his body as my sex-starved skin gobbled it all up.

Now I’m thinking about his skin. Not any skin, but a certain part of his skin wrapped about something that grows long and hard.

“Why would I want to scrap the mural? Aria, you’re talking nonsense. It’s even better than I imagined.” His hand landed on my shoulder and it burned. “You are unbelievably talented.”

I told Mrs. Hawthorne that I wasn’t the one to take Alex’s virginity. It’s one thing for it to happen naturally between a man and a woman. But to be told to do it, by his mother, well, there was something terribly wrong with that.

“That’s very kind of you, Alex, but I think the real point here is that this wall doesn’t need a mural. Maybe just some new wallpaper. Or a splash of paint. I think the painting you bought of mine, joking aside, would look wonderful in the center of a deep blue wall,” I said and nodded encouragingly.

Alex kept calling me but I ignored him until I accidentally answered his call last Thursday. I told him I needed time to work with Tiffany to create the print outs, which was mostly true. I had needed time but by Thursday I was done.

I stalled coming up with a way to get out of the mural mess. Get away from his screwed-up family. I ran away long ago from one crazy family, and I wasn’t about to be wrapped up in another.

Yesterday I came up with the perfect idea. Alex needed to fire me.

These were the reasons why having one-night stands were much better than getting into a relationship with a man. Because you never just date the man, you also have to deal with the man’s family. After what I had seen and heard about this family, I don’t want to be near any of it, no matter how incredibly sexy and sweet Alex was to me.

“You mean the clown painting?” Alex threw his head back as his eyes widened.

“Yeah.”

“Aria, I love your work and I bought the clown painting because it belonged with the collection. But waking up, or worse, falling asleep to a clown staring at me is not something that will make me happy.”

I threw my arms in the air. “I’m just spit-balling here. Maybe my painting titled Beauty.”

“The guy has a gun to his head in that one.”

I never realized how dark my paintings were.

“Then don’t use my paintings. You have a Warhol I presume, as you seem to have every other famous artist.”

He nodded. “Yes, I own one Warhol.”

“His paintings are colorful and have a brightness to them. Nothing about them should make you scared or sad. Use this wall for a Warhol.” I waved my arm in the direction of the mural I traced out in pencil using Tiffany’s printouts.

He grabbed my arms, bringing me close to him. “But I don’t want a Warhol or even one of your paintings I already bought. I want something unique.” Alex shook his head and dipped it closer to my neck. “I want something exceptional. Something never seen before. I want the only thing you can give me.”

I turned my head, brushing his cheek with mine. It sizzled and the sparks scattered down my arm and through my chest. Alex was making this difficult. Maybe if he hated me then he would fire me.

I pushed him back. “Only a rich snob would want something no one else has.”

I was pushing it but he needed to hate me.

“What?”

“You heard me. Don’t think I don’t remember what you said to me over a week ago, Alex. I’m just the hired help. Is that why you want me to stay and work on this mural? Because you get some sick kick out of watching people slave away at your every desire.”

Even I was having a hard time believing the words coming out of my mouth. But something I said hit a spark. He narrowed his eyes as a vein on his neck pulsated.

He was mad. I needed to keep this up, really make him never want to see me again.

“I don’t get a sick kick out of—”

“Don’t lie to me, Alex.” I pushed my hands onto my hip and flared my nose. “That’s why you don’t have any real friends, isn’t it? You get giddy knowing people have to do what you say because they want your money.”

My stomach churned with what I was saying to him. Alex was the nicest guy I had ever met. He genuinely wanted to get to know me, and when he complimented my work it was honest, not to flatter but because he felt it.

I hated saying these things to him but I knew if I stayed there would be a point where I would try something with him. He deserved a woman who wanted him for more than just one night. He deserved better than me.

He deserved better than someone his mother set him up with.

“That’s not true,” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair.

It was time to end this. Time I left. But first, I needed to land the final blow. A lump formed in my throat and I wondered if I would be able to get the words out.

“More lies, Alex. I talked to your mother over a week ago and she had some interesting things to say about you,” I said and fought against the bile rising in my throat.

Alex moved quickly and was in front of me, breathing hard. His jaw set and his eyes wild as he grabbed the top of my arm. With a firm grip that told me to watch my tongue but refused to cause pain, he dipped his head to my ear. “Never believe anything my mother says, Aria. She will use you to get what she wants, even if it means telling you lies.”

I tried to step back out of his hold but the back of my legs hit the bed.

“Then she lied about you being a virgin?” I regretted my words as quickly as they fell out of my mouth.

None of this was my business. Alex was right, I was hired help. His personal life had nothing to do with me.

“I’m sorry, Alex. I didn’t mean any of the stuff I just said. This is none of my business—”

“She didn’t lie about me being a virgin.”

I stood there staring at the floor and when I finally gathered the courage to glance at him, he was watching the floor too.

A part of me thought Alex’s mom was lying and when Alex said not to believe what she said I felt relief. No more awkwardness of pretending I didn’t know. No more wondering what it would be like to give him his first orgasm while being inside of me. No more realizing that I couldn’t be with him because he deserved a woman who wasn’t going to run.

But, as he admitted that he was a virgin, I realized what I worried about when I came here this Monday morning ready to work on what he hired me for was ignorant. So what if he’s a virgin? I was a virgin once. Did I want some sweet guy that was gentle with me to take my virginity? Yes, I did but that’s not always what we get.

“That clears that up,” I said unable to think of anything good.

I closed my eyes, embarrassed at how I handled this whole situation. A stronger woman would have got on with her work, setting personal feelings aside.

The last thing I was, was strong.

“Did she offer you money?”

My eyes snapped up to his in surprise. “What? No, she didn’t offer me money.”

He laughed and walked around me to go sit on the edge of the bed. “That’s what she does, you know. My mother has to control everything, even my sex life.”

I frowned and went to sit next to him. “That’s terrible. Why would she go that far? When I talked to her, she mentioned about keeping you safe from people who wanted to take advantage of you. But she can’t keep everyone out.”

“She can, Aria. She has. My entire life has been orchestrated by her hands. Do you know that what the press said about me being with prostitutes was real?”

My hand went to my mouth. How could that be? He’s a virgin. The more information I get about Alex, the more confused I became.

“But you’re a virgin . . .”

“Anytime I socialized in public at an art event or gallery opening there would be a beautiful woman there, someone I was attracted to, that showed interest in me. They would talk to me and say just the right thing to make me want to get to know them even more. Until one night I got enough nerve to ask one of these women to come home with me.”