“How did you get started?”
I sink back against the couch and angle my body toward him.
“I was always a hands-on child, doodling and drawing all the time. It drove my nannies crazy because I would attack any surface I got my hands on. When I began taking art class at school, I fell in love with it. I started painting and sketching whenever I could. I’m a mixed media artist, so I don’t just stick to one form, but I tend to gravitate toward oil and graphite pieces. I adore working with charcoal, but those are more like passion projects because they don’t sell as well.
“I knew I wanted to go to college, so I majored in fine arts. It wasn’t exactly what my parents wanted, but it was a degree, and it ended up being really fun. It helped me realize that I needed to be an artist, no matter what it took.” I leave out the part about how it was actually my mother who was furious at my choice. She thought being an arts major was a waste of time. Pointless. That I should’ve been spending my time finding a husband and producing babies. Of course, her tune changed when I met Chase junior year.
I take a quick sip of my coffee before bringing my gaze back to him. “Honestly, though, I was worried about becoming a full-time artist. That it would put too much pressure on something I loved and turn it into something I hated.”
Something flashes across Aleks’ eyes, but it’s too fast for me to fully understand what it is, so I keep going.
“But when I started having my pieces featured in exhibitions and had strangers coming up to me telling me how much they loved my art, I knew I couldn’t back away from it. I want to share my art with the world, these small pieces of my soul. Sure, it hurts when people reject them because it’s like they are rejecting a part of me. But it’s worth the risk to find that one person who also resonates with my work. I sold my first piece when I was a senior in college, and I just haven’t stopped.”
I’m also lucky enough that I have an inheritance that allows me to pursue my passion. Sure, my pieces sell enough now that I could easily sustain myself without the cushion. But I could never have gotten to where I am without it.
“Wow. That’s amazing. Not everyone gets to follow their dreams.”
“What about you? Is what you do your dream job?”
His expression softens. “Yeah, it’s the ultimate dream. I couldn’t breathe without it.”
I smile up at him. “I feel that.”
“You know, it’s sexy to hear you talk about something you love.” He gives me a lopsided smile and places his hand over mine. It’s a little cold from holding his coffee, but I’m warming up with the heat currently working its way through my body.
The sparkles explode in my chest again. I try to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. I just stare at him, dumbly. My eyes flick from his gaze down to his lips and back up again. I watch him make the same move. He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. I can feel my heartbeat quickening in my chest; I’m both nervous and turned on. The butterflies trapped in my ribcage are making a slow decent to my abdomen and then lower…
He turns my hand over and, holding my gaze, slowly lowers his lips to my wrist. They graze the sensitive skin softly, the lightest touch. His lower lip drags up, and I can’t do anything but just sit and watch. His gaze flicks away to my chest, and I feel the quick inhale of his breath on my wrist as I watch his eyes darken. My arms pebble in response.
Pebble…
Fuck.
My nipples.
There is no way to look down subtly, so I don’t even try to hide it.
Sure enough, the girls have made an appearance. If he didn’t know I was turned on before, this certainly informed him. I’m pretty sure the left one is trying to poke through the middle of one of the flowers.
Instinctively, my free hand comes up to shield my boobs. I try to remove my other hand from his grip, but he holds tight, pulling me toward him instead and resting his other hand on my thigh.
He leans forward, bringing his head next to mine and whispering in my ear.
“Nothing to be ashamed of, baby. In fact, it’s quite hot. But why don’t we get out of here before I ravage you? I would hate to get banned from this place.”
He gives my thigh a slight squeeze, and I melt, feeling my core pulse with need.
“Where are you thinking?”
Honestly, he could say his place, and my mind is such a hazy mess that I would probably agree to it.
“Why don’t we go for a ride on my bike? See where we end up.”
“Really?”
I turn my head toward his in excitement, not realizing just how close our faces would be. He is inches away, our noses almost touching, our breaths intermingling. His eyes pour into my soul, and I let myself get lost in the forest.
“Fuck, come on.”
He pulls back quickly, and I feel the loss of his warmth. He gathers our empty plates and coffees and shifts off the couch, presumably to return them somewhere. I’m still sitting like some lovestruck dummy. I feel like the spinning wheel of death, just trying to load and failing.
I slide off the couch and roll my shoulders a few times, trying to recalibrate myself. I do a little two-to-one breathing, channeling this morning’s yoga class. I am not about to scare this guy away by coming off as obsessed already.
I’m not even obsessed.
I’m just… attracted to him.
Really attracted to him.
Aleks rounds the corner, hands empty, and winks at me. He picks up his helmet and holds his free hand out to me. I return his smile, slipping my purse over my body and placing my hand in his.
“Ready?”
He gives my hand a quick squeeze, and my smile grows even larger.
“Ready.”
FIFTEEN
* * *
ALEKS
“But if I wear your helmet, what will you wear?”
I laugh as I place the helmet on her and tighten the strap. It’s a little big but better than nothing.
“I’ve driven plenty of times without a helmet.”
Actually, that’s not true. I’m pretty fucking diligent about wearing my helmet. We aren’t referred to as organ donors for no reason. Parker and I got into a stupid accident once, racing each other at night. We totaled our bikes, fractured our ribs, got concussions, and ended up with matching scars on our temples. We were lucky we didn’t fuck up our hands. It was one time, but we made sure never to screw shit up like that again.
Still, I’d rather her wear the helmet than me, and letting her think I’m more carefree about it is the only way I’ll placate her. I do, however, grab my sunglasses and throw them on.
I swing onto the bike and gesture to the space behind me. I picked my BMW K1600GT this morning since it has a pillion seat. I had a gut feeling that she would be joining me. That or just plain cockiness that I’d get her on the back of my bike at some point today.
“You can hold onto me to get on, but it’s just like a regular bicycle, only there are footrests.”
She grips my shoulders as she gets on, and I mean grips, like she is afraid she is going to topple off.
I feel her settle behind me and start to rethink this idea. She begins to wriggle as she tries to get comfortable on the seat. Her hands slide from my shoulders to my ribs. It isn’t meant to be sexual, but everything right now feels that way. I can feel the heat of her against me and clench my jaw. We haven’t even taken off yet, and I’m beginning to lose control again.