Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

Bex hadn't changed since the picnic, but she had put her hair up into a ponytail, and as they walked toward the elevator together, Faith watched, fascinated, as it swung back and forth.

"What?" asked Bex, looking bemused.

"I like your ponytail," said Faith.

"Thanks," said Bex. "I need my hair up and out of the way for our scene this afternoon. I wanted to do it now before the Dungeon closes for cleaning at seven. That way we can have dinner and watch a movie together tonight. Finish off our date day together—if that's okay, of course. I don't know if you had other plans…?"

"I don't," said Faith. She'd spoken to Mandi about the date day, and they'd agreed to have lunch together on Sunday before Faith left for home. "I'm having lunch with Mandi tomorrow, but I spent all day with her yesterday, and a couple of hours with her today. I'm all yours tonight." The words sounded like a promise, and they kind of were.

This time, taking the elevator down to the Dungeon, both of them were less nervous. There was a frisson of excitement in the air, and Faith held Bex's hand, smiling in anticipation for what was to come.

The same security guard was on the entrance to the Dungeon, and he grinned at them both. "All set up for you, Bex."

"Thanks, Drake." She grinned at him.

Faith looked between them and furrowed her brow. "What's set up?"

"Patience," chided Bex, leading them through the main play space down toward the private playrooms. It was a different one from the room they'd used the night before, and Bex paused before she opened the door.

"Look, it may look really weird, the way it's set up, but I promise you there's a good reason for it."

"Okaaaaay," said Faith, unsure of what to suspect.

When the door opened, the room beyond looked very odd indeed. It was clearly usually a wet room of some kind, but plastic sheeting had been taped to the walls, and when she looked up, she saw it was on the ceiling as well.

"I think," said Faith, trying very hard not to burst into hysterical laughter, "you'd better explain what sort of scene you have planned that's turned this room into something out of a true-crime documentary on serial killers."

Bex's mouth dropped open. "Fuck, I didn't think of that. Shit, Faith, I promise you, it's nothing like that."

"Well, considering Drake helped set it up, I should think not. What is going on?"

Bex walked over to a plastic-covered table and drew back a cloth to reveal the paint pots Mandi had put into the picnic basket.

Oh . Paint . The weird room set up made sense now. Well, sort of.

"I don't quite see why the entire room had to be almost vacuum packed though," Faith said, a perplexed look on her face despite the teasing tone in her voice.

"Because," said Bex, with a nervous smile. "I'm going to turn you into art."

Surely she hadn't heard correctly. "What?"

Bex didn't answer immediately. Instead she bustled around Faith, moving frenetically around the room, and Faith realized quite how nervous the other woman was.

Faith tried again. "Ummm, how exactly are you going to do that? Turn me into art, I mean?"

"So I was thinking, I got this branch—see it's super pretty, the leaves are all shaped like hearts—and I thought that if we covered it in paint, I could flog you with it."

"Flog me?"

"Lucas helped me find it."

"Lucas?" Faith didn't know how much she liked the idea of Bex discussing their scene with other people, though she imagined that she'd have had to, to get the play room set up like this.

"He's Rawhide's head landscaper," explained Bex, and then she caught sight of Faith's face. "Oh no, pickle, he didn't have all the details. I just said that I wanted something with flex. Look." She brought over the silvery branch so Faith could get a closer look at it. "It's aspen, so it wouldn't be too stingy—not like a cane, I remember you didn't like the look of those—and the leaves would soften it even more. But I was thinking that I could use it on your back and shoulders and arse—carefully of course—and you could be the canvas. You've been missing your art, but I wanted to show you that you are your art. And to turn you into art to prove that."

Faith was speechless. The idea was, well the idea was fucking fantastic. Hot and creative and so her . Bex had seen her, truly seen her, and come up with this incredible plan for them both.

"I love it," she said eventually, and threw herself into Bex's arms to kiss her. "It's amazing, perfect. I don't know how you managed to come up with such a clever idea!"

Bex beamed. "You really like it? I'm so sorry about the serial-killer vibes, I just didn't want to get paint over everything. Well, over everything that's not you."

"I really do." Faith skipped over to the table and examined all the different paints. "How do you want to paint the branch?"

"As I see it," said Bex, "we've got two options: either dip them in the paint pots or use the paintbrushes Mandi gave us to flick paint over it."

"Let's do both," suggested Faith. She could see how it was all going to turn out in her mind's eye, and her fingers started itching to touch the materials. "Dip the branches without leaves on, and flick paint at the leaves—though we'll have to cover them quite a lot to get those heart-shaped prints."

"Excellent!" said Bex. "Come on then, strip off. We'll do this bit in knickers only, and then take those off when I'm flogging you with the branch."

Faith didn't need telling twice, she stripped quickly, almost racing Bex, and then folded all their clothes neatly and placed them under one of the sheets so they wouldn't get paint on them.

Bex brought the branch over, and the two of them took the lids off all the paint pots. Faith found herself stimming excitedly, her fingers dancing all across the paint, dipping in and out of the pots. She laughed, and Bex looked at her with a question in her eyes. "It's not quite the same as working with clay, but the physicality of pottery is one of the things I love about it most, so this is amazing."

"Ever done the Ghost thing and had a sexy pottery scene?" Bex asked.

"Not yet," she replied, winking suggestively. "But somehow I think that when you visit my studio, that may change."

Bex looked delighted at that, and Faith felt a warmth spread through her, and only part of it was due to the paint. She was aiming a large paintbrush at the leaves and splattering it with thick paint, and impetuously she aimed it in Bex's direction and got a huge spot of green paint on her breast.

"You're going to pay for that," said Bex.

"Promises, promises," laughed Faith, and then got chased round the room with a paintbrush.

When Bex finally caught her, she took the paintbrush and traced a line from Faith's forehead down her nose, skipping her lips, and then down her throat, neck and between her breasts. By the time she paused, just above the elastic of Faith's underwear, Faith was panting.

"Come on," said Bex, as if she'd done nothing at all. "We've got to prep this branch."

They moved quickly, so it didn't dry, and the branch was a kaleidoscope of color by the time Faith took up her position against the wall.

Bex came close and whispered in her ear. "You make the most beautiful canvas I've ever seen."

And Faith shuddered with happiness even as she braced herself.