He shakes his head, surprising me. “That was when I realized Icouldn’tstop. Even when I had everything to lose and absolutely nothing to gain, I couldn’t put it down. That’s why I can’t take a drink of champagne.” He dips his head at the glass in my hand. “But it doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t. My problem is not yours, and seeing you take part in something you like won’t cause me to fall into self-pity or temptation.”
I sigh, not fully understanding.
“That’s what you did with your sister, isn’t it? Tried to save her by avoiding any and everything that you thought would remind her of drugs or alcohol.”
Frowning, I look down into the bubbly liquid that spurred this conversation. “And in the end, none of it worked.”
He squeezes my hand but doesn’t tell me that it wasn’t my job to fix her like I thought he was going to.
“Let me show you the painting I picked out to have delivered.”
I follow along, taking my first sip of champagne for the night. Neil is right. This isn’t the cheap stuff at all. The champagne has me feeling warm and toasty from the inside out, and I relax, feeling comfortable enough to drink even with my hand firmly planted in his.
“This piece is calledIndulgence,” he says in a voice so low, I have to step closer just to hear him.
Turning my head, I look up at the piece, and my breathing hitches. A lump forms in my throat, and it suddenly goes dry. My mouth falls open as I stare at a painting of a man and woman, lovingly wrapped up in one another’s arms, obviously in the middle of an extremely passionate moment. The image isn’t lewd, however. The viewer is only able to see the woman’s coffee-colored back and the side of her breast as her front body presses against the man’s chest. His firm, bronzed arms hold her tightly but lovingly, as if she’s the most precious jewel he’s ever seen. There’s a familiarity in the way he’s holding her.
The faces of the couple are hidden behind the man’s long hair, that while a bit lighter than Neil’s, reminds me of his. The painting holds me transfixed. The chemistry between this couple isn’t fake.
“It’s stunning, isn’t it?” Coming up behind me, Neil runs his hands down my arms.
“They remind me of us,” I blurt out before I think better of it.
Neil’s chuckle is deep and sensuous as he lowers his chin to the crook of my neck. “That’s what I was thinking. It’s why I purchased it as soon as I saw it a few weeks ago. The artist said she came up with a painting of a couple that came to her in a dream.”
“Is she here? I’d love to meet her and tell her how talented she is,” I say, turning to Neil.
He shakes his head. “She couldn’t make it tonight, according to Grace.”
“What’s her name?”
“I don’t know her full name. Just her first initial. She signs all her paintings with that J down there at the bottom.”
I spot the cursive letter J at the bottom of the painting.
“She’s the reclusive type.”
“Aren’t all artists?”
He chuckles. “To one extent or another. Dance with me.” He retakes my hand and pulls me to the dance floor.
I’d almost forgotten we were at an actual holiday party. The instrumental sounds of a popular holiday song play in the background, beneath the murmurs of the crowd of people around us.
“Are you taking the painting home tonight?” I ask as I stare up into Neil’s eyes, one of his arms around my waist while the other holds my hand to his chest.
“Not tonight. Delivery’s scheduled for next week. Tonight, I’m taking you home,” he says, dipping his head until our lips meet.
“That sounds like a good idea,” I murmur once he ends the kiss.
Before Neil’sfront door even fully closes, his hands are all over me, searching out the zipper at the back of my dress. My hands aren’t idle, either. As insistent as he is about getting me out of this dress, my fingers are just as intentional on revealing his bare chest and abdomen. As much as I appreciate him in this tuxedo, it needs to come undone.
And speaking of …
Reaching up, I pull his hair free from the tie that held the bun together at the back of his head. His hair spills down to his shoulders, and I play in the soft ringlets.
Neil, however, isn’t too intent on letting me simply play in his hair or stare at his naked torso. He quickly strips me down to my matching panty and bra set. I shiver underneath the penetrative glare of his.
“I’ve hungered for you all night,” he says through gritted teeth. He brings to mind thoughts of a predator drinking in his prey and savoring the moments right before he sinks his teeth into it.
