I don’t think it was any one moment that did it; there were simply so many. The warm, expansive leap in my chest as he’d explored the market, capturing scene after scene on his phone to refer to later. My own imaginings of what those future paintings might look like. My hope that I’ll be lucky enough to get to see them. The wonder on his face as he’d stared out at Elliott Bay, and how it made me realize that he was seeing a thing he’d never seen before, even without him having told me yet. The rightness of his compact body pressed back into my arms as he’d breathed in the sight. How my heart had swelled at the way he’d looked when I’d finally worked up the courage to invite him to come meet Alex and Ellie and the twins.My family. The way he’d so unhesitatingly and naturally offered me comfort in the car when the drive had triggered a storm ofanxiety I hadn’t prepared myself for.
The Uber ride this morning.
My next breath feels a bit shaky as I draw it in.
What happened this morning has been on my mind all day. Not because of how the intensity of my anxiety caught me off guard, but because I know I need to explain myself to Tris. Partly because I could tell he wanted to ask, mostly because I want him to know me.
The memories that set off my reaction this morning are a part of me, no matter how much, sometimes, I selfishly wish I could just strip them from my mind. Not my memories ofhim.Neverthat. Just of that night.
With a jolt, I drag myself back to the present.
I need to tell Tris what happened, just not right now. Right now is about Tris and his paintings, and the way he’s staring up at me, his expression eager and so damn hopeful as he waits for my opinion that it makes my throat constrict.
“I don’t just like it, Tris. I love it. It’s stunning,” I kneel beside him, reaching out to set the canvas gently down on the floor among the other paintings he’s already scrutinized over the course of the last hour. “They all are.”
And that is nothing short of the truth.
“Is that your way of telling me to hurry up and pick already?” He laughs, but there’s an anxious, brittle note under the sound that tugs at my heart. Now that I know they’re there, it’s impossible not to see straight through to the insecurities lurking behind Tris’s seemingly effortless confidence.
“Never.” I lean in, first pressing a kiss to his cheek before moving to his lips, careful not to bump the paintings still balanced on his knees as he sighs against me. And for all that my lips linger, working their way slowly down from the cornerof his mouth and over his skin, my hands twitching with the desire to slip beneath the hem of his shirt and up to explore his tight abs, I mean what I’ve just said. God, I hope he knows it too.
“I love seeing you so excited and happy,” I go on, feathering my lips over the faint stubble along the sharp line of his jaw.
He lets out a soft exhale, leaning ever so slightly into me, and I close my eyes, breathing in the sweet vanilla and peach smell of his skin. “I love that you have this chance to share your work with people, Tris. I love getting to be here with you and help, if I can. And I love your paintings.”
A nervous little twinge of warning runs through me at the use of that word that’s been lurking around the edges of my thoughts more and more often lately. I pull back enough to glance sideways at him, just in time to catch an uncharacteristically shy, private sort of smile flicker across his lips. My heart gives a hard, heavy thump that steals my breath for a moment.
“So no, I’m not telling you to hurry. I’d do this with you all night if you wanted.”
“All night, sunshine? Really?” He peeks up at me through the fringe of his bangs, transferring the canvases from his lap to join the others stacked on the floor. As they meet mine, his eyes glint and darken, and his lips lift in a wickedly teasing smile, all promise and temptation and pure, personified sex. “Nothingelseyou want to do, hmm?”
I can’t help following his gaze as it drops pointedly to the quickly growing bulge in my jeans, and I’d laugh, except before I have the chance, he plunges forward, catching me off guard and tipping me back onto the floor. With his knees pinned on either side of my hips, he drops his mouth down to my neck,sending tingles of pleasure scattering through me as he drags his lips across my skin. But—
“I don’t want to distract you from—Jesus, Tris—” My body jolts and I gasp as his hand finds my now fully hard length at the same moment as his tongue swirls over the junction of my shoulder. “You need to choose…which paintings—”
He nips at the base of my throat, turning the rest of my words into a moan as his grip tightens around my dick. “Already did.”
I groan when he wiggles, arching forward to press and grind our erections together. His mouth closes around my Adam’s apple, sucking until I’m panting and digging my fingers into his hips, before he lifts his head back up so his lips are hovering just over mine. “That one was the last.”
Any protest or questioning I might have tried to manage is swallowed when he closes the gap between us and captures my lips. I open to him on another groan, and he licks into my mouth, deep and fierce and scorching. His tongue sweeps over mine, erasing my every thought except for the feel of his mouth and body. The need for more of him.
He lets out a beautiful, breathless moan when my hands move from where they’d been gripping his hips to grab his ass. Jesus, I want to hear him make that sound again. Want to make him pant and gasp and beg like last night.
Using the leverage of my grip on him, I drag him closer, high on the way he grinds against me as I arch up to meet him. He rewards me with another filthy moan, and I can’t keep from moaning back into his mouth as my fingers dig into the firm fullness of his cheeks because, fucking Christ, even through the barrier of his tight jeans, he feels incredible. Incredible, only now that I know how his bare skin feels beneath myhands, nothing else can compare.
“I want you naked, Tris.”
My hands slip up to his lower back, under the hem of his shirt, and he sits back, dragging in a ragged breath. His eyes are glassy and dark, and the slow grin that spreads across his parted lips makes my dick twitch and throb in the confines of my jeans.
“C’mere.” He tugs at my wrist, guiding me up off the floor with him as he stands with that careless, sexy as hell grace of his. And then he’s stripping off his shirt, pulling the fabric up over his gorgeous body, before shimmying out of his jeans and briefs as I shamelessly stare.
Jesus, fuck— How can every last inch of him be so perfect?
With far less grace, I copy him, tugging off my sweater and jeans, nearly tripping when they tangle around my ankles as I try to step out of them without taking my eyes off him.
The moment I’m down to my boxers, Tris is on me, up on his toes with his arms tangling tight around my neck as our lips collide in a desperate, feverish kiss. Cupping the back of his head, I drag his bottom lip between my teeth, drinking in his soft whimpers and moans as he arches and grinds against me until the sounds of our gasps and panted breaths fill the room.
Dizzy with the taste and smell and feel of him, I let him drive me slowly back toward his neatly made bed. Not until he’s pushing me down to sit at the edge of the mattress do we break the kiss. God, I don’t want to let him go even for a second. When I try to pull him after me though, he shakes his head, biting his lip as his eyes lower to where my erection tents my boxers, a damp spot already marking the fabric over my leaking slit.
