Gem does as I ask, and I lead her through some deep breathing exercises before persuading her to shake it out, tensing and releasing her muscles from her neck to her toes. I even have her making ridiculous noises with her mouth so she can relax. But Gem being Gem, dissolves into full-on belly laughs when she makes a noise like a strangled cat.
Gem could always make me laugh with her mischievous sense of humor, even in dark times. Seems like a long time since my mouth stretched with a genuine smile, but I find myself laughing along with her and wishing I could capture her like this, as she is right now.
She’s relaxed on the bed, the sheet she had gripped in her fists now puddled around her hips. “Oh, screw it,” she suddenly says, whipping off her jeans and unbuttoning her shirt. “Go big, or go home, right? Like you said, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, just more of it, and I hardly think the sight of my body is going to turn you into a lust-crazed neanderthal who wants to doall kinds of dirty, depraved, and … what?” she demands at my raised eyebrow.
I looked pointedly at her shirt.
“Ah, crap,” she says as she realizes she’s completely unbuttoned her shirt in her ramblings. It’s slipped from her shoulder, revealing her lace-clad tits, her nipples pressing against the sheer fabric.
Had it been any other woman, I would’ve suspected it was a calculated move, but not Gem. She’s guileless. It's obvious she has no fucking clue how to play games or how sexy she is.
“Oops,” she says, cheeks blazing as she draws the edges together.
She’s self-conscious about her body, but she shouldn’t be. She’s fucking gorgeous, and every muscle in my body tightens at the sight of her smooth flesh. Being exposed to bare skin is nothing new when it comes to my art, but it’s never been a sexual experience. Or at least it wasn’t—until now. Gem is the only woman I’d cross professional boundaries and break the rules for.
Acting on instinct, I move closer, grabbing her hands to still them from snapping the fabric closed. “Don’t.” My voice is a harsh rasp. “You’re beautiful like this. All of you. Just like this.”
Gem’s eyes capture mine, and the wealth of longing in them is my undoing. I wrap one arm around her waist, grip her jaw with the other, and then my mouth is on hers as I kiss her with fierce desperation. I taste her, drink her in, my mouth hard and demanding, until she’s shaking and moaning low in her throat.
I drag my mouth from hers, breathing roughly, and mutter, “Fuck.”
Gem’s fingers are clenched in the front of my shirt, her eyes closed, her pretty mouth swollen. My taste buds are saturated with her delicious flavor, and my nostrils flare with the scent of her arousal.
I knew it would be like this when we kissed. Fucking explosive. It’s why I pulled away from her all those years ago. I knew once I’d had a taste, I wouldn’t be able to let her go. I’d foolishly thought that keeping her at arm’s length would cure my addiction to her or at least dampen it. But one kiss has detonated the hunger between us.
Without opening her eyes, Gem whispers, “More. Please.”
Before I can stop myself, I lean in and kiss her hard and hot until all thought has evaporated from my mind. Gem moans, eagerly tasting and teasing me with her tongue, her hands fisting my hair, and her breasts pressed against my chest.
Before it goes too far, beforewego too far, I drag my mouth from hers. A possessive growl works up my throat as I see the lazy heat smoldering in her eyes, which have darkened to a verdant green.
She has a kissed-senseless and left-wanting look that I want—no,need—to capture.
“Don’t move,” I rasp, my breath feathering over her swollen lips as I tear myself from her soft curves.
She nods, her eyes dazed as I situate myself behind the easel. I grab my pencil, and my fingers fly over the paper, studying her as she lounges on the bed, her expression reflecting that delicious state of want.
Gem brings her fingers to her lips as she watches me studying her. They linger there as if she’s reliving the sensation of my mouth on hers, and fuck, if it doesn’t have me hard as hell.
“One sketch won’t be enough with you, Gem,” I say, the words out of my mouth before I can think. “I’d like to do a series of images of you and present them in my upcoming show at the end of my residency if you don’t mind being my muse.”
Gem’s eyes widen. “Me? But I’m …” She pauses, shaking her head.
“You’re what?” I pin her with my gaze.
“I’ve never considered myself muse material,” she replies with a shrug.
“Well, start now,” I state, “because you are to me. The drawings will be tasteful,” I continue as she opens her mouth to speak. “And you can veto any you consider too revealing before the show. You wanted to see yourself through the eyes of an artist. Let me give you that.”
Gem bites her lip as she considers my words. “Okay. But I don’t need to veto anything because I trust you as an artist to present me the way you deem best.”
Her trust humbles me. And makes my cock hard. I won’t betray her confidence in me—a confidence she gave me when we were teenagers.
“So … um … You kiss all your muses?” she asks, her voice a little too bright.
I lift my eyes from the drawing taking shape on the paper and focus on Gem. “No. Never. And I’ve never had a muse until you.”
Her breath whooshes out, whether from relief or something else, I’m not sure.