Damn! I’m consumed by all of him.
“I’ve no idea how I offended you, Essence.” Antonio’s smooth tone pours over my shoulder like warm honey, causing the same effect between my thighs. “But you need me.”
“I do not.”
“Let’s consider a few of the variables, shall we. Boxed wine and $20 champagne? You. Need. Me.”
A response crawls up my throat, only to commit suicide upon exiting. “You, pretentious—”
“I’m from a small, what you call a rural town, Aguas Calientes. And when the Cobra cartel took over our tiny ranch, we spent years in Mexico City. Let’s not go there,” he grits out, with an aura of danger threading in his comeback. “You will pose for me.”
His breath whispers along my skin.
Yessss... I will pose for you... I will cum for...
I snap out of it. “You need me too.”
“That so?” He shifts, bringing us to an alcove, the same as he had with his younger girlfriend.
Although I’m stuck between a wall and a gloriously sexy hard place, I snap, “I’ll pose for you. But let’s not pretend you’re this great savior. Isn’t it true... curators and galleries haven’t vied for your attention in the past three years? And don’t get me started on the art critics.”
A vicious scowl darkens Antonio’s face. Though he doesn’t refute or add context to why he bashed in the face of a harmless, balding art critic, he takes my hand.
Looking me deep in the eye, he says, “We need each other, apparently.”
Antonio drops a debonair kiss on the back of my hand, then he walks away. A harem of women trails after him.
I pat myself on the back for winning this round.
Just gotta keep him at a distance because Antonio’s sharp gaze promises ecstasy.
And ecstasy only serves one person.
A man.
After you cum, men get all the power.
He left with her the other night. I mutter the harsh truth while condemning myself for calling Alexis a her. As if we were strangers.
I’ve never envied women. But when they said their goodbyes, my heart thudded in a way it’s never had before.
Braless, I slide into a tan spaghetti strapped dress that swishes past my ankles. I glance toward my bed—which isn’t much more than a mattress on the floor and a feather duvet. A few paces away, there’s an area where one could pose.
I descend the steps of my loft as the gallery door rings again.
“I’m coming...” Hell no, Essence. You aren’t cumming. I’m determined to be more mindful of my words as I unlock the inner wrought iron gate. Next, I release the frosted glass door with my gallery brand scrawled over it.
Antonio’s wearing a leather jacket, jeans, and a simple v-neck shirt that embraces muscle. I back away, waving my hand for him to enter.
He holds out two cups of tea. A local brand. I’m too jumpy at his sight to respond to the gesture.
“Aye...” He sets the additional paper cup onto an empty pillar.
Get him in and out, Essence. “You didn't need to bring drinks. Do you have your things?” I sound monotone.
“They’re in my trunk. Where should I set up?”
“Here.” I point to a platform near a section of unsold pieces.
“Won’t work. We need more sun.” Antonio glances at the windows that expand up the ceiling. I get it; the area’s too shady. I only have one more platform upstairs... Where the morning sun is shining...
I change the subject. “You need help bringing your things in?”
Ever the man, he scoffs.
“Good.” I grin. “Then you have the muscle capacity to lug whatever you’d like down here.”
“No.”
“Excuse—”
“You’re an artist, Essence. Are you not?”
Not anymore. “Hello! I own an art gallery.”
“Which indicates you have a studio for sunset,” Antonio gestures to the stage across the room, “and you have one for sunrise.”
When his gander flicks upstairs, desire scorches me through my bones.
My arm folds over the other. “That’s my bedroom. I live here. No.”
“Alright.”
I’m so accustomed to arguing with the male species my mouth postures for a retort. But my nemesis has already stalked outside. A few agonizing minutes later, Antonio returns with an easel beneath his arm. In his other hand is a large leather briefcase.
I’ve settled on the partition, legs dangling nervously. Don’t look upstairs. Antonio’s banned from your inner sanctuary.
My gaze remains on the iPhone in my hands as Antonio sets up his gear. He curses the lack of natural lighting.
It’s good... enough.
Antonio craves the sight of sunlight streaming over my dark flesh, with light spilling over every curve. I pull my mind out of the gutter, thoughts of his cum painting me everywhere.
But averting my attention is a mistake, as I’m lost in captivating brown eyes which
question my stiff demeanor.
I sit fully erect with my cellphone on the wooden area next to me.
Damn.
Erect.
Really, Essence?
Antonio comes over, and I all but scramble to rise.
“Stay.” His hands fall over my hips, heat melting me and sending goosebumps skittering across my skin.