“Great.” Audrey slapped the clay onto the wheel, then wiped her hands on the clean towel she’d left out for herself and went to retrieve two smocks from the hook behind the door. They were both a pale blue, smudged here and there with clay stains and various color splatters from glazes and paints.
As she handed one to Michelle, their hands brushed, sending a jolt of awareness through Audrey’s system that was as alarming as it was thrilling because her attraction to Michelle was definitely out of control.
Audrey’s hands shook as she tied her smock, which was a terrible state to be in as she prepared to sculpt pottery. She inhaled slowly, filling her lungs, and then blew it out.
Here goes nothing.
Chapter Thirteen
Michelle watched, transfixed, as the wheel began to spin. It was oddly mesmerizing. In fact, she wondered how Audrey sat in front of it for hours at a time without hypnotizing herself. Michelle already felt somewhat entranced by the whirling lump of clay.
Audrey swiped her right hand through the bowl of water beside her and then pressed both palms against the clay. “This is called coning up. I’m pressing inward with my hands to force the clay upward into a cone shape. We want to keep it as neat as possible because that’ll help with the next step, which is coning down.”
The wheel sped up, and Audrey pressed down with one hand while she smoothed the sides of the clay with the other until it resembled a cake, low and round.
“This step is one of the hardest for new potters,” Audrey said. “It takes constant pressure and a fair amount of arm strength to keep the clay under my control. Ideally, I want to see it spinning here without a wobble. That’s how we know the clay is truly centered on the wheel. The human eye can lie, but centrifugal force doesn’t.”
“Fascinating,” Michelle murmured, watching as Audrey’s fingers skimmed over the surface of the clay like a lover’s caress. She shouldn’t be thinking about sex while watching Audrey work, but there was something so sensual about the way Audrey’s fingers stroked the clay, molding it into the shape she desired. Michelle had always foundAudrey’s hands elegant, and now she was seeing firsthand why those slender fingers were so dexterous.
Michelle sucked in a breath, suddenly starved for air, as if she’d been so caught up in watching Audrey’s hands that she’d forgotten to breathe. Or perhaps the grace of Audrey’s movements had stolen her breath. “It’s like a dance ... art in motion.”
“Yeah.” Audrey’s voice was hushed, and when Michelle looked up, Audrey’s eyes were locked on her, watching Michelle as raptly as Michelle had been watching the wheel.
Michelle gulped another breath, searching for something to say, when her thoughts were a jumble of sexy fingers and Audrey’s blue eyes. “What are you making?”
“A teacup.” Audrey still spoke quietly, as if she’d fallen under the spell of the wheel too. “If you like it when it’s finished, it can be yours.”
“Oh, but ...”I already have one,she wanted to say, but the words got lost, because Audrey’s fingers had dipped into the top of the clay. Not all her fingers, just her index and middle finger. They pressed into the clay in a gesture so undeniably sapphic that Michelle’s skin flushed hot, and her core clenched as if those two fingers had just dipped insideher.
“This is called opening the clay,” Audrey said, and indeed it was opening beneath her touch, a hollow forming at its center. As Michelle watched, Audrey removed her hand and dipped those two fingers—index and middle—into the bowl of water to wet them. Her nails were short, neatly trimmed, and she’d taken off the turquoise ring, probably to keep it clean.
“It’s important to keep the clay wet,” Audrey said.
“Oh,” Michelle murmured, focused on Audrey’s glistening fingers.
Audrey pressed those two fingers into the clay, and Michelle couldn’t be the first lesbian to find this erotic. Becausegood lord, the way Audrey’s fingers dipped into that clay ... Michelle pressed her thighs together, hating herself for reacting this way. Audrey had invitedher over to show her a skill, not for Michelle to write mental porn about Audrey’s fingers.
She’d switched to her thumbs now, pushing farther into the clay as the gap widened. Its surface glistened from the water she’d applied.So wet,Michelle’s sex-starved brain supplied. Audrey picked up a sponge and gently blotted away some of the moisture, and at least that wasn’t overtly sexual.
Michelle made a conscious effort to control her breathing. It was absurd that she was getting hot and bothered watching Audrey mold clay. Audrey was herstudent, or she had been once. Michelle feared she would never be able to fully separate present-day Audrey from the bright-eyed freshman she’d first met in her introductory art history class. Audrey had been only eighteen, and Michelle had been her professor.
This attraction was beyond unfortunate. She needed to snap out of it immediately.
Audrey was talking again, explaining her process as the clay slowly transformed into the shape of a teacup. She kept using the word “wet,” and it was having a most inconvenient effect on Michelle. Making a teacup didn’t take as long as Michelle had expected, and she attributed that to Audrey’s talent. There were no missteps. The clay never fell and had to be reformed. No, Audrey’s graceful fingers molded it steadily into a beautifully proportioned cup.
“How do you get it off the wheel?” Michelle asked, rediscovering her voice as the wheel came to a stop, releasing her from its trance. The cup seemed so delicate, so flimsy in its current state, and Audrey had stuck it really firmly to the wheel to keep it in place while she worked. Surely, if she grabbed at it now, the whole thing would collapse.
In response, Audrey dipped both hands into the bowl of water to clean them, then dried them off and held up a piece of wire. “I use this to cut it off.”
“Oh.” Michelle heard the surprise in her voice.
Audrey slipped the wire under the cup and pulled, releasing it in one quick movement. “It needs to dry for a little while before we add the handle, but what do you think?”
“Spectacular.” Michelle sat up straight on her stool, only then realizing how much she’d leaned forward, eager to watch every move Audrey made. Her heart was racing, and she felt a little bit buzzed, the way she’d felt the other night after she finished drafting a particularly invigorating scene in her new book.Adrenaline.
Audrey grinned at her, and Michelle could feel herself smiling right back. She felt warm and uninhibited, and the urge to kiss Audrey was almost too strong to resist. But resist she would. Michelle had impeccable self-control, and that wasn’t about to change, no matter how deliciously pink and kissable Audrey’s lips looked right now.
Michelle needed to stop staring at them, though. She yanked her gaze back to Audrey’s eyes, which were just as soft and inviting as they watched Michelle.
