Chapter 6

2Horned:

So how are things going with that guy you like?

ANG3L:

The same, mostly

Oh! But I did take your advice and go out on a date with someone else

I'm instantly gutted. I hate that I can't just be happy for her. Wood likes to remind me that I'm avoiding a real connection by putting so much energy into this one. But this is real for me. I'd be happy to stay home and chat with her every night.

And I'm sad she doesn't feel the same.

2Horned:

Oh?

ANG3L:

Yeah, he's really nice

Sucker punch.

2Horned:

Cool. How did it go?

Please say it was terrible. Horrible. Boring. Just sort of okay. Anything but that it was great and you had amazing sex.

ANG3L:

It was fine

2Horned:

Just fine?

ANG3L:

Yeah. I mean, it was okay. I had a nice time and he's nice, but we didn't have much to talk about so it was a little awkward at times

2Horned:

I see. Was there a goodnight kiss?

I have instant regret. Why the fuck did I ask that?

ANG3L:

Yes, actually

Absolutely did not want to know that. I'd have rather been slapped in the face. Should I ask her how it was? Congratulate her? How the fuck did I get here?

ANG3L:

But there was no chemistry. No sparks

2Horned:

No nothing?

ANG3L:

Nope

2Horned:

That's too bad

I'm grinning from ear to ear.

A knock at my office door pulls my attention away from my phone. Livvy opens the door just enough to poke her head in.

"Your four o'clock appointment is here," she says in her soft voice.

"Great. Tell them I'll be right out."

She nods and shuts the door.

2Horned:

Does the guy you like know about the date?

ANG3L:

Yes, he does. And he was not happy about it. But not because he was jealous, he thought I wasn't being safe. I think he thinks of me like a little sister

2Horned:

Fuck. That sucks.

That reminds me, I need to ask Livvy how her date with Mark the body builder went. They can't have anything in common, right? Like, what would they even talk about? She's so sweet and smart and likes art history and he looks like his deepest thoughts are about whether the chocolate or peanut butter protein powder flavor is the best.

I'm being judgmental, I know. I don't know why. I'm sure he's nice. Sometimes I wish I was nice. He just doesn't seem right for her.

ANG3L:

What should I tell him about the date if he asks?

2Horned:

Tell him it was great

Jimmy's a regular so I tell him to head on down to my station when I get out to the lobby.

Livvy smiles up at me from the front desk and I try to return it in as naturally as possible.

But acting natural around her these last two days has been impossible, because every time I talk to her, or pass her, or see her in my periphery, or even just think her name, I'm thinking about her naked.

I mean, I'm not imagining her naked, but thinking about how I'm going to see her naked. It feels like kind of a big deal, but she's acting like it's no big deal, so I can't act like it's a big deal either. Right?

"Hey," I say. "Thanks for the work you did updating my portfolio. It looks great."

"Thanks. It was fun." She smiles so sweetly and she's so damn pretty.

"How's it going up here? Good? No problems?"

"No problems." She's probably wondering why I'm hovering.

I'm stalling. Fuck.

"So…uh…" I clear my throat. "We still on for tomorrow?"

"Oh, yeah. I was thinking around nine? Bex will be working so we'll have a good few hours of privacy." She looks up at me with those big, innocent hazel eyes.

A few hours?

My cock throbs of its own volition and I slide my hands into my jean pockets so my now half-chub isn't noticeable.

"Cool," I say. See, she's chill. I'm chill.

I should get back to work.

"Oh," I say as I turn to go to my station. "I forgot to ask…how did your date go with Mark?"

Her face lights up at my question and now I wish I'd never asked.

"It was great!" she says.

It was fucking great?

"Great." I nod and smile through clenched teeth and walk away.

But the entire rest of the day I'm in a weird mood. I'm irritable. Distracted.

I keep glancing toward the front where she's sitting and trying not to think about tomorrow. But every time I try not to think about her naked, I think about her naked.

She's naked under that robe.

It's obvious the instant Livvy opens the door. I knocked at two minutes after nine because it took me three minutes to work up to it.

Her silk robe is thin and clings to the curve of her hips and breasts and pebbled nipples…

Fuck. Look at her face, jackass.

"Hi," I say.

"Come on in." She steps aside so I can enter and closes the door behind me. "Macy's asleep, so we need to be a little quiet."

I nod and follow her through the living room, down the hall, and into a bedroom, hands stuffed in my pockets, heart pounding like a bass drum the whole time.

I close the door behind us, latching it softly. The room is dim, only lit by a few candles scattered throughout the space and the ambient light from the night sky through the window.

"Is this all right?" she asks, playing with the sash of her robe.

My throat constricts as I try to swallow. "Yeah. This is good. Are you—are you good with this?"

"Of course." There's a slight wobble in her voice but she's smiling.

Maybe I imagined it.

"My easel is all set up here." She walks over to the corner by a bookshelf, and I follow. "There's plenty of paper," she continues, "and different pencils—I didn't know if you had a lead preference—and some charcoals if you want to use those. Have you used charcoals before? They're my favorite for figure drawing. I mean, if you want to use this stuff, it's here, but you don't have to use it. Sorry, I'm rambling."

I chuckle, glad I'm not the only one who's a little nervous. "You're fine, Livvy. I brought my iPad to sketch on if that's okay."

Her cheeks turn pink when I say her name.

I like that.

"No, yeah, that's great. Perfect." She breaks our eye contact and goes to the easel. "Sorry, I was painting earlier and didn't get it totally cleaned up." She takes a canvas off the easel and sets it on the floor facing the wall then moves some oil paints and a jar of mineral spirits to the side.

I want to see what she's been working on, but I stay quiet.

"Is there enough light for you?" she asks, placing another candle next to the easel. "I thought the softer light might be more relaxing, and I wouldn't be so…um…on display, but I can turn the overhead light on if you want."

She strikes a match along the edge of the box, but it doesn't light. Again, with a slight tremble in her hand, and no flame.

"No, this is nice." I take the matchbox from her, our fingertips brushing as she hands me the unspent match. "Whatever makes you most comfortable."

I strike the match and light the candle, then shake it, watching the orange flame die out to be replaced by a wisp of smoke. It lingers in the air between us.

"Should we get started?" she whispers.

I nod, the word yes getting caught in my throat.

But neither of us makes a move. She twists the end of the robe tie, looking down at the silky fabric between her fingers. I have that urge to comfort her again. I step toward her and reach out to touch her shoulder but stop short.

She looks up at me with her round eyes, her pupils dilated in the dim light.

"How about we warm up for a bit, with the robe on?" I say.

"Okay," she says quietly, a smile growing on her lips. The sight of it makes something flutter in my chest.

Livvy sits on the bed, then tucks her feet up and scoots back, bouncing a little on the mattress, a soft little giggle escaping her lips.

I'm not noticing her tits bounce, too. I'm not noticing her tits bounce. And I'm definitely not imagining jumping on the bed with her, making her bounce and laugh even more. Tell that to my cock which is already twitching.

I take out my iPad and stylus and open my sketching app, stealing glances at Livvy trying to get into a comfortable pose.

I don't wait for her to settle. I start sketching. Her profile, the slope of her nose, her jaw. The line of her back, her hair. Her smile.

She looks up at me. "Hey, you're not supposed to start, I'm not ready yet!" But there's laughter in her voice and my chest vibrates with my own deep chuckle.

I try to capture this expression, the one where she's trying to look serious, lips parted in frustration, but her eyes are bright, happy.

I can't do it justice.

Finally, she settles in a spot, legs tucked in, hands in her lap. "Okay, now you can start. For real," she says with a forced scowl.

It makes me smile. "Got it."

I start a new blank page and start sketching out her form, trying to keep it loose. Just warming up. Reminding myself it doesn"t have to be perfect.

"Stop squirming," I say.

She bites her lips, shoulders bouncing. "I'm sorry, it's hard to sit still this long." She stretches an arm and tilts her head from side to side, her neck looking delicate and soft.

Fuck.

I start a new page as she repositions herself, this time with her back to me, legs bent off to one side. But when I look back up, she's slipping the robe down her shoulders.

My heart pounds.

The silk falls off her shoulders and down her back, puddling around her waist.

She's still and I don't dare move or break the quiet.

The warm candlelight flickers and dances on her skin, every curve and line. So smooth, so pretty.

She turns her head to rest her chin on her bare shoulder, finally glancing at me. "I'm ready," she says, her voice low and huskier than usual.

I can't figure out what it is about her—this thing that makes me act like I've never had a naked woman in front of me before. Hell, I can only see her back and bare shoulders and it's like I've just discovered girls don't have cooties. Looking at her like this and the way my body physically reacts to her, feels wrong. Maybe that's what it is. The forbidden.

I need to be professional. She's Bex's little sister and now my employee. Fuck.

So I put my head down and sketch. She's shapes and lines and shadows—not a gorgeous naked woman with perfect lips I just want to?—

This time when I look back up at her, she's pulled the robe away from around her waist. Still facing away from me, she tosses it casually to the floor.

I keep my eyes trained on her hair and her shoulders, not letting them trail down the crevice of her spine to her…

No, I will remain respectful.

Respectfully admiring her perfect ass.

Fuck.

She looks over her shoulder. "What position do you want me in?"

My dick swells and does she have no idea what she's doing to me right now?

She looks at me with those big eyes and pouty lips, the soft light glowing all around her painting the most angelic picture I've ever seen.

No, no she has no idea what she's doing to me. I can think of many positions I'd like to put her in, and they are all very bad. Bad for many reasons.

I shake the images out of my mind.

"Whatever is most comfortable for you." I keep my expression calm, my voice level and detached.

"Okay," she says.

I fidget with the stylus as she gets into position, keeping my head down while the sounds of her sliding against the duvet and the vague movement of her limbs in my periphery pull at my resolve.

"How's this?" she asks.

I look up.

Holy fuck.

It's like all the air has left my lungs and I can't figure out how to take another breath.

She's stretched out on the bed, feet dangling over the edge. I can't take my eyes off her. Up her legs to the soft lines of her stomach and the curve of her hips. The perfect place to grip onto.

Stop imagining digging your fingertips into her, Noah. Jesus.

"It's good," I choke out.

She smiles and looks out the window. Serene. She's still and I'm still. Except for the slight bounce in her breasts every time she breathes. I might not have noticed but her breaths are coming more rapidly.

Me too, Livvy. Me too.

"You're beautiful," I say.

She turns, lips parted. Her chest heaves. That was a stupid thing to say. I was trying to make her feel more at ease.

"Thank you," she says.

"I mean it. Gorgeous."

Get a fucking grip.

I'm making an ass out of myself. I create a new page and start to block out her figure. Map out the shapes. Get the lines right, the angles.

Her breasts are fucking perfect and it's not helping my hard-on subside. They're on the smaller side, perky, round little orbs with soft pink tips.

My mouth is watering.

Keep drawing.

I layer in shadows to give the shapes dimension. I work quickly, focusing on the proportions and trying not to linger too long on her thighs, the arch of her back, the fullness of her breasts, the shadowed area between her legs…

Her breathing has slowed. That's good.

Look away from her nipples, you creep.

Her face. I slow when I get to her face. I want to get it just right, the angle of her chin, her cute little nose, her round eyes and long lashes. Her pouty mouth. That mouth is too luscious, too soft to do it justice in any medium.

"How are you doing?" I ask.

"I'm good." Her voice is low and breathy, and I wish the lighting was just a little better so I could see any of the more subtle changes in her micro expressions.

"I'm done with this one. Do you want to change positions?"

"Oh good, my left butt cheek was falling asleep."

I don't miss the pink hue her chest and neck turn when she says it.

"Sorry, was that too much information?" She looks at the ceiling as she lets out a little high-pitched giggle.

"No, you're fine." I chuckle along with her. No, too much information would be telling her that the way her breasts jiggled when she laughed and the way her skin brightened has me imagining all sorts of scenarios where I'm the one making them bounce, but harder. I'm the one making her flush, but darker. I'm the one making her breathless.

I've been in a constant state of semi-arousal since I entered the apartment, but my erection is full on at the moment.

Maybe my celibacy is becoming a problem.

She twists to her right, facing me this time. I draw her again.

We take water breaks and talk a little here and there, both finally relaxed, but mostly we're quiet and I sketch and shade and get into the rhythm of it.

She shifts to a three-quarter view the next time. I draw her again. And again. I draw her hands. Her feet. Her backside. Her face. Her hair.

Her face again.

Each one with more detail, trying to get her likeness where I want it. Each time, falling just short of conveying her beauty.

The orange and honeysuckle scented candle next to me has gone liquid, warming my arm. My hand aches. But I don't want to stop.

"What time is it?" she asks, yawning.

"It's half past eleven." I had no idea that much time had passed. "One more?"

Livvy nods. "One more."

She was right, the nerves are gone and it's almost like we've forgotten that she's naked.

Almost.

I take a sip of water and glance over just as she's scooting up the bed. She shifts her legs from one side to the other and just for a second the candlelight catches on the prettiest, little pink lips between her legs.

Water goes down the wrong pipe and I cough and gasp for air.

"Are you okay?" Livvy asks.

I nod but I can't speak from the choking. My eyes are watering and I reach for my water bottle but instead I knock over her jar of mineral spirits, which splatters across the floor and up onto the wall at the same time my elbow smacks against the candle.

It all happens in slow motion but I can't stop it.

The candle falls, landing on the spilt mineral spirits and the carpet ignites into flames.