Chapter 18

"Don't let go." Livvy closes her eyes. The sun is golden on her skin, gleaming off the pool, water droplets sparkling on her body.

"I won't let go. I'm right here." I'm barely touching her back with my fingertips as she floats in front of me.

It took quite a few tries before she relaxed enough to do it.

I drop my fingers away.

"See, you're doing it! All by yourself."

Her eyes snap open and she sinks, splashing and thrashing under the water until she finds her bearings and pops back up.

"You let go!"

"You were doing great until I said something." I chuckle.

She wipes her face. "I hate getting water in my eyes."

I'm more concerned about water in her lungs. I kiss her forehead. "You're doing great. Come here."

I lean her back, head against my shoulder and glide us backward around the pool. She gets the rhythm of the kicks easily and I guide her arms up and around in correct form for a backstroke.

My fingers trace along the lines of her arms, her skin so soft. She turns her head, pressing her lips lightly to the underside of my jaw. And just like that, the swimming lesson is over.

I should have known it would devolve into making out and rubbing each other's bodies in the pool before too long. But when Livvy dives her hand into my swim trunks to grip my extremely hard cock, I have to put a stop to it. No matter how needy I am for her, my aunt and uncle have a security system with cameras they check regularly while away.

So, I promise we'll continue this later.

My hand is on her thigh the whole drive home. But we have to go in to the shop. And then it's Bex's day off and she's around, the whole fucking night. I want to wrap my arm around Livvy, snuggle with her on the couch, kiss her freely—but I can't.

While Livvy's in the bathroom getting ready for bed I shoot Bex a look. "Hey, shouldn't you be off with lover boy tonight?" Please leave.

She pulls a beer out of the fridge, no signs of leaving or heading to bed any time soon. "He's working tonight. And keep your voice down." She shifts a glance over to the hallway. "I don't want anyone finding out. At least not yet," she says in a hushed tone.

Bex comes around the island to where I'm sitting, getting real close, and points her finger at me. "Noah," she says, somehow whispering and yelling my name at the same time. "Promise me you won't say anything! Even to Livvy. No one can know."

Before I can answer, the patter of footsteps sounds from our left and Bex and I scurry away from each other just as Livvy comes in.

"What's going on?" Livvy asks, a little crinkle in her nose.

"Nothing's going on. Want to watch a movie?" Bex says casually.

So, we watch a movie. Livvy's on the opposite side of the couch, already way too far away, and then Bex sits right between us.

The next day and night aren't much better.

It's been two days, and I haven't had the chance to get Livvy properly alone. I'm dying for her. She's all I think about.

2Horned:

Can't sleep

I want you

ANG3L:

I'm having a hard time, too. Maybe because I can't stop thinking about going down on you

2Horned:

Fuck

ANG3L:

I'm so wet

2Horned:

It kills me that you're in my bed,

but I'm not there with you

ANG3L:

Bex is snoring

I lean over the railing in the loft, overlooking the living room and then out the large windows, the serene water and the skyline of downtown Seattle.

The sky is a hazy gray this morning. No one is up yet. I've been awake for hours.

Movement below catches my eye. I barely catch a glimpse of Livvy's ankle, a towel swishing over her arm as she disappears into the bathroom.

Water is running, steam beginning to fog the mirror when I slip inside and lock the door behind me. I whisper her name, not wanting to startle her and risk waking anyone else up. "Can I come in?"

"Noah?"

I peek my head inside the curtain, not being able to keep down my face-splitting grin at the sight of her. Rivulets of water stream down her body, her skin rosy from the hot water.

"Morning, you," I say, almost stepping in fully clothed.

She bites her lip as she runs a washcloth over her shoulders and across her chest, soapy bubbles sliding down her perfect tits and over her darkened nipples.

Fuck.

I undress in a frenzy, throwing clothes behind me carelessly, practically fumbling over myself to get in with her.

My hands are immediately around her face and in her hair. Pushing her up against the tile. My mouth on hers, devouring her strained gasp.

"Shh. We've got to be quiet." I pull away, rubbing my thumbs along that full lower lip of hers.

She nods.

"Good girl. Now, keep washing up. I'll just be down here."

I drop to my knees. My fingers dig into the soft flesh of her hips and thighs, spreading them just enough to get my face between them and my tongue where we both need it.

The thump of her hand smacking the wet tile along with a muffled moan comes when my tongue strokes her most sensitive spot, but otherwise, my girl is so good. So good and so quiet while I eat her out.

I close my eyes as the hot water streams down my face, concentrating only on how her clit is swelling against my tongue and holding her hips tight as her legs start to shake.

She grips my shoulder with one hand, panting above me. Her other hand twists in my hair as she starts to rock against me, grinding her pussy against my face.

Good fucking girl.

There's a knock-knock at the door.

"Hngh," Livvy whimpers over me.

The knock is harder. "Livvy, you've been in there a long time, are you almost done? I really need to pee!" Bex yells.

Fuck!

"Shit. She's never up this early," Livvy says through heavy breaths.

I look up at Livvy, her lips dark and swollen, nipples hard, chest heaving.

"Almost finished!" She calls out to her sister.

Then she fists my hair. "Don't you dare stop." And yanks me back between her thighs.

Oh. My already hard cock jumps. Pulsing. It's the hottest thing any woman has ever done to me.

I lap her up, concentrating on her little throbbing clit. Her nails dig into my scalp, a rush of sweetness hits my tongue, and she goes limp.

Bex knocks again.

I've got her around the waist as I turn off the water and grab us towels. She's still coming down when I dry her off and wrap it around her. Her cheeks are flushed and she smiles dazedly up at me.

"Come on!"

Liv's eyes go wide. "Just a sec!" She hops out of the shower, right onto my sweats. "Shit," she says.

"Shit."

She scoops up my sweats from the floor, shirt from the counter, and boxers from the sink, stuffs them under her towel, then runs to the door.

I close the curtain and sit in the corner of the shower.

"Finally!" Bex's hurried footsteps hit the tile as she runs in, and I try to block out the sound while trying not to make any of my own.

I cannot block out the sound. It's awkward.

I stay in the shower for a few minutes after Bex leaves, finally poking my head out and wondering what to do next.

The door opens and I almost fall back into the shower.

"It's clear," Livvy whispers. "Bex went back to bed."

I go to her, and she turns, giggling. I follow her out into the hall, through the living room, and up the stairs to the loft, all while clutching this too-small towel together around my waist.

I reach for my clothes. "Can I get dressed now?"

She hugs them to her chest and smirks. "Or…"

Taking several steps toward me, that devilish grin growing, she sets my clothes down on the table. Then she comes to me and drags her fingertips down my chest, over my abs and down to the towel, which opens and falls to the floor with a simple touch.

I'm hard instantly.

Livvy presses both palms to my chest, looking up at me, angelic. Then she walks forward, pushing me back until my calves hit the couch.

"Sit," she says.

I sit.

She licks her lips.

My cock is standing at attention.

Then she turns my legs and lifts them up onto the couch.

"Bend this knee."

I do, still not sure what's going on.

Then she moves my right arm, laying it over my hip. "And this one here," she says as she adjusts my other hand. "And turn to look this way."

I turn my head.

"Perfect. Now, stay just like that." Livvy backs away from me until she's in the corner. At her easel. "Your turn," she says with a smile.

"Oh, really?" I throw my head back, laughing.

"No moving." She shakes her pencil at me, scowling. Cuter than ever.

"Sorry."

"If you're good, maybe you'll get a reward after I'm done." She smiles and I straighten, getting back into position.

Modeling is hard. I know that now.

My hip aches. I let out a little sigh. It feels like I've been in this position for hours.

"I'm almost done," she says. "It's only been thirty minutes."

After another hour, which, according to Livvy is only fifteen more minutes, she finally says she's done, and I can relax.

"You did a good job." Livvy walks over to me, biting her lip, a burning in her eyes.

"I did?"

"Mmhmm." She drops to her knees and my erection springs instantly to life.

As soon as her perfect lips close around the bulging head of my cock, I throw my head against the sofa, eyes rolling back.

"I'll pose for you any time you want," I pant.

She takes me in, to the back of her throat.

"Multiple times a day if you need me to."

"So, can I see the drawing?" I ask as I pull my sweats back on.

Livvy wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her cheeks still crimson, pupils dilated. Sexy as hell.

"Sure." She nods and I follow her over to the easel.

She's oddly quiet, biting her lip as I come around to look at it.

It's gorgeous.

It's a hell of a lot better than any of the drawings I did of her. I expected to see a drawing of me lying on the couch. But this—this is more of a study of light than anything. It captures the whole space. The feeling of the room, somehow. The large windows behind me are bright while my figure is mostly in shadow. My profile is outlined in a perfect glowing rim light. It's peaceful, contemplative. It feels warm.

It's how she sees me and at the same time, it's how she makes me feel.

The way Livvy talks about art, how a piece can have the power to evoke an emotion, to have a deeper meaning to the viewer—I've never experienced that before.

"Wow," is all I can say.

"Do you like it?" The tiny crease between her eyebrows vanishes as her smile grows. Her smile takes my breath away.

"I love it," I say.

A voice in the back of my head whispers, you love her. What the actual fuck? It's not my normal breed of morbid intrusive thought, but somehow, just as horrifying.

I shake it from my mind.

"You can have it."

"Really?"

"Yeah." She laughs. "I'll even sign it for you. I don't know if it's special enough to display or anything, but you can do what you want with it."

She's wrong there. It is beyond good enough to display and I already know what I want to do with it. "Do you know what you're going to put up on the wall in the shop?"

"Um, yes." She's gnawing on her lip again.

She takes out her sketchbook from behind the easel, wedged between a couple blank canvases.

We walk over to the couch, and she opens it to the right page for me, handing it to me as we sit down.

I recognize the reference of her sketch immediately. "It's The Kiss."

The two figures are in the same position as the famous painting, bent over, embraced, him kissing her face. But these two figures are an angel and a demon. Her wings are large and drape around her, the tips touching the ground, while he has dark claws, hooves, a tail, and two, very large, twisted horns.

"This is spectacular," I say.

"You think so?"

"Yes. This is amazing." I look at her. "You are amazing." I am in awe of her.

You love her.

I clear my throat. "May I?" I hold up the page as if to turn it, and she nods.

We look through her sketchbook in silence. She leans her head against my shoulder, her body pressed against mine as I flip through the pages. Every time I think I've found a favorite drawing, I turn the page and the next one is even better.

"Thank you." I hand the sketchbook back to her. "I know you don't like people looking through your stuff. But these are wonderful."

"I don't mind anyone seeing my finished pieces. I showed pieces all the time in school. It's the unfinished and half-drawn, and abandoned things I don't like to share."

"Those are my favorite ones!"

She pulls back, that crease forming above her nose again. "Really?"

"Yes. I love the ones that are a bit messy, not finished and polished and perfect. I like seeing your hand in it—all the strokes, how your mind was working. They're the most free and expressive. Besides, is anything ever finished?"

"In art? Some might say it's finished when the artist says it is."

"But we artists know the truth."

She nods. "We could go on tweaking a project for eternity and still see more that could be done, fixed, changed. It's never perfect."

"Exactly. We're all works in progress."

We lock eyes. My hand is on her knee, and she puts hers over it and gives it a squeeze.

"They'd be proud of you," she says, eyes glistening.

Fuck. My chest tightens and my eyelids start to burn. The sting of unshed tears becoming almost unbearable. But, while all these boiling emotions are churning inside me, she keeps my hand in hers. I am a storm, but she is calm. She is peace. She is warmth.

We don't need words.

Livvy has been putting her drawing up on the back wall of the shop all shift. Her spot on the wall is right next to mine, right next to my station, and it's taken all I have not to keep putting my equipment down and watch her create.

"It looks so good," I tell her after my last client is finished up.

"Yeah?" She looks up at me with those green eyes and a smudge of white chalk across her forehead.

"I think it's the coolest one in the whole shop." I lean in. "Don't tell anyone I said that."

"Thanks." Her cheeks turn bright pink, and she wipes her forehead with the back of her arm, smearing more chalk. "I need to go clean up."

"I have to take care of a couple things in my office. Come find me when you're done."

I bend down and kiss her on the temple. I don't even think about it, showing her affection is as natural as breathing.

But as soon as I pull back and see her eyes are wide, I know I shouldn't have done it. I glance over my shoulder and around. I don't think anyone was looking or saw. Not that I would care if they had, but Livvy might. We should talk about it. Soon.

I go around the corner to my office and Taryn is blocking the door, standing with her arms crossed, a scowl, and her stare laser-focused on me. "We need to talk."

"Okay." I move past her and open the door, gesturing for her to go on.

She takes the same stance in front of my desk as in the hallway and as soon as I shut the door, she opens her mouth.

"Are you fucking the new girl?"

I blink in a stupor. It takes me a second to register her words. "That…is none of your business," I say.

"So, you are."

It's not a question. It's an accusation.

Livvy and I haven't had penetrative sex yet. I could probably say no and not be lying on a technicality. But that doesn't feel right. I can't say yes, either. I won't betray Livvy's confidence or right to privacy. We haven't talked about telling people—she hasn't even told her sister about us yet.

We haven't talked about what "we" are yet. I don't even know what we would tell people. Are we just having fun and hooking up? Are we dating? We haven't gone on any official dates. Are we in a relationship? It's to be determined.

"Listen," I say, in as casual a tone as I can manage, "I know you and I went out a couple times a few years ago, but we decided when you started working here that it wasn't a good fit. I thought we were way past this."

Taryn's scowl deepens. "We didn't decide anything. You decided that. And I am past it. I'm not asking because I'm jealous. I want to know because I don't like drama. I don't want it in my life or at my job, and if it's true, shit's about to get real messy in the shop."

"Anthony."

"Uh huh."

Fuck.

Just the reminder, the memory of him with his hands on Livvy, his lips on her, has me clenching my jaw.

"Seriously," Taryn says, "if this place gets uncomfortable, I'm out."

I take a measured breath, reminding myself I have to stay in calm boss-mode, not feral boyfriend-mode.