Aria

 

 

 

After Alex and I left the Mimir building last night, he had his car take me home. I went straight to my room and got out my beloved vibrator. I worked out a few orgasms before I felt like a normal human again and not some repressed teenager.

I wanted to fuck Alex so bad.

It’s becoming frustratingly obvious that Alexander is unlike any guy I had been with. Not that I’ve been with him sexually. He eloquently stated why that won’t happen.

I like cheap and he doesn’t fuck cheap.

Why should I be surprised? I shouldn’t, based on his money, his looks, and his power in the art world. He probably has supermodels with huge tits and long legs begging to come over so he can feed them his cannoli.

What did I have? A flat chest and body so petite that I’m not tall enough to go on some rides at amusement parks. Maybe that’s why I sleep with so many men. I’m compensating for my lack of . . . well, everything.

What made this worse? That I had to see him every day so I could paint his mural. I hope I don’t fuck this up. Literally.

Even now, as I ride the elevator up to his condo, I try my best to push last night out of my head. How he both complimented me and ripped me apart in just a few words.

I kept my head down as the doors opened. I wouldn’t let his amazing art distract me. The door was left open and I did my best to remember where his bedroom was.

I think I made the wrong turn down a hall because I entered a small room with lots of television screens.

“What are you doing in here?” A deep voice came from behind.

I gasped, turning to find Bradley standing in the doorway.

I covered my rapidly beating heart. “You scared me. I seem to be lost. I thought this was Alex’s bedroom.”

“Sure you did.” He stepped back and waved me out.

“What?” I said as I walked past him.

“Alex’s bedroom is at the end of that hallway.” He pointed to the other end of the hall where it turned to the right.

Before I could ask him again what he meant, he stepped into the room I recently left and closed the door.

Asshole.

After making it to the end of the correct hallway I noticed the door to Alex’s bedroom was open so I gave a swift knock on the door and stepped inside. Glancing around, Alex was nowhere to be found but my sketch pad was on the padded leather bench at the end of his bed.

Walking over I picked it up. The page was turned to the sketch I was hoping he would pick. It was a risk since most people want pretty or serene murals. This was the opposite with so much going on. Color, movement, and chaos made it feel as if it was coming to life.

“Good, you’re here.” Alex’s voice created a myriad of sensations colliding at once under my skin.

My head rose as I did my best to temper those thoughts, quash those feelings, and dampen my need.

“Yes. Just as you asked. You did say ten in the morning last night in the car, didn’t you?”

I caught the wobble in my voice and hoped he hadn’t.

He looked amazing today. Better than I fantasized about last night or the night before or every night since I met him. His light blue sweater fit him like it was made for him. Based on his account size, it probably was. And those jeans were tight enough that when he turned to look at the wall where the mural was going, I fist pumped the air.

That man had a great ass. Don’t know why I was so excited about that. It wasn’t like I was going to be able to touch it.

“I see you picked my Art History mural.”

Alex turned back from inspecting the wall. “Yes. Clearly, it’s the best. It shows my love of all art but you added your take on the great masters of the past. I have to say, Aria, I’m blown away.”

Damn it. Why was he so nice, too? No man in the world was this perfect. I’m being set up.

I began walking around the room, picking up knickknacks and glancing under the bed.

“What are you doing?”

I stood after I had made sure under the bed was clear. “Looking for hidden cameras.”

Alex folded his arms and shook his head. “What? Why would you do that?”

“Because you aren’t real. None of this is real.” I spread my arms out wide. “There is no man on this planet as perfect as you, Alexander Hawthorne.” I came over to him and pointed at his chest.

Okay, maybe I didn’t point. Maybe I smoothed my hand up and down his chest. But that’s not the point. The point was he’s tricking me in some manner.

He glanced down at my hand currently rubbing a hole in his sweater but he didn’t remove it. “Why is this okay, Aria? Why do you think coming into my home and putting your hands on me is something okay to do? What if I did that to you?”

I stopped moving my hand but left it resting on his chest. “Then do it.”

“What? You actually want me to rub your chest. You think that’s fine to do? It’s okay if a stranger comes up to you and starts to rub your chest?”

“I never said I was okay for a stranger to do it. I said I was okay for you to do it.”

His eyes widened and I knew he would make an excuse. Alex lifted his hand toward mine but I grabbed his wrist before he could get to mine.

“Here, let me help you.” I pulled his arm up and placed it on the center of my chest.

We both stood there not moving.

“I’m waiting,” I said and couldn’t help the smile that crept over my mouth.

This man wanted me as much as I did him, and his views on not being with a cheap woman or whatever excuse he used looked like they were about to falter.

I really hoped they crumbled.

“You want me to grope you?” Alex asked with wide eyes.

As much as I wanted this and much more, it was becoming frustrating. It seemed if I wanted him to touch my body in any way I would have to force him, and that was not okay. I may be a tiny woman and he may be a giant of a man, but I would never force anyone to do anything they didn’t want to.

I lowered my hand. “I only want you to do what you want to do, Alex. If your physical attraction to me really disgusts you that much, then don’t do anything. I’m not an idiot, I saw your boner last night so don’t deny you’re attracted to me.”

Wrapping my fingers around his arm I tried to pull his hand off my chest, but he wouldn’t move.

“I never said I was disgusted with you, Aria, or what feelings I have for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “You said I was cheap.”

Alex shook his head and puffed out a laugh. “No, I said I would never give you cheap. But what I have to give you might not like. You may run as far as you can from me. Then I would lose a chance to have your beautiful talent on my wall.”

It seemed like Alex was about to say more but he stopped and dropped his hand from my chest.

“Why would I run? Is it really tiny?” I said as I crinkled my nose.

He dropped his eyes to the floor as his face grew pink. I thought it was cute that he embarrassed so easily.

“I don’t think so.”

I took a step back and focused my attention on his crotch. “Did you compare? Or maybe other women might have mentioned you were big? I have to warn you, if women have never mentioned your size before then it’s probably small.” I frowned and gave him a supportive slap on the arm.

He raised his hand to his face, covering his eyes. “Why would I compare my penis with other guys?”

Shrugging my shoulders, I went over to the leather bench and sat. “I don’t know how guys are with each other. Maybe they compare length and girth?”

Alex dropped his hand and came to sit next to me on the bench. Leaning over he lowered his voice. “So, do, uh . . . women compare . . . you know . . .?”

A bit confused, I tilted my head but realized what he was talking about as his eyes dipped to my chest. “Boobs? Yes and no. Not how you think. It’s not like in porn where women get all grabby. Basically, we complain. Women with big boobs complain about back pain and finding a decent bra. While women more like me,” I waved a hand over my petite chest, “well, we complain about clothes that are supposed to show cleavage but just end up causing us to flash people. We are united on one thing though . . . bathing suits. All women, no matter what shape or size, all complain about bathing suits.”

 “Never thought of that. I guess I always imagined the porn part.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“You never answered me, Alex.” I turned toward him, scooting an inch closer.

“What?”

“What have women said about your . . .” I waved my finger around his jean-covered cock.

He straightened his back and stared at the wall. “Nothing. Women haven’t said anything about my, uh, penis before.”

Crap. I had to ask. It’s not like a man with a small dick can’t be creative in other ways. I once slept with a guy with a small cock who give me multiple orgasms. He was very creative.

I smiled and gave a swift pat on his leg. “Oh, well, I’m sure that doesn’t mean—”

“But, then again, no woman has ever seen me naked,” Alex said.