The instructor clasps her hands together, so much gratitude shining in her face that I know it’s the coup de grace to Jamie’s resistance.
“You don’t mind? Really?”
A forced smile and a grimace are battling for supremacy on Jamie’s face.
“Well, umm, is it …” his voice lowers, “is it … nude?”
The way he whispers that last word has me pressing my lips to keep from laughing. I’m bad enough for having gotten him into this mess, I don’t need to add insult to injury by cackling next to him while he’s sweating with nerves.
“No, no,” the instructor says. I sense some reassurance washing through Jamie, before she adds, “you can keep your underwear on.”
“Just … underwear?” Jamie peeps.
The instructor is already by his side, practically pushing him off his chair and ushering him out of the room. “We’re already behind schedule; you can get changed back here.”
Flustered but obliging, Jamie follows along, throwing a bewildered look back at me over his shoulder.
I can’t help an arch grin spreading on my lips. I flash him a finger-wave before he disappears into the hallway.
As I wait, a tense feeling winds between my legs. It’s almost an ache, radiating upward into my lower core. All day, I wasn’t looking forward to this date, because I knew it wasn’t a good idea. I know that it still isn’t—but I can’t deny that I am looking forward to seeing Jamie stripped down to his underwear. For the first and last time.
It’s like sneaking a big piece of cake when you’re on a diet. Or spending way too much time binge-watching a show when you really need to be working on something.
A bad idea? Yeah. Irresponsible? Yeah. Enjoyable? Oh, yeah.
The tension notches higher when Jamie steps back into the room, draped in a robe. I can sense hunger seeping into the eyes of every other woman in the room, and more than one of the men.
Jamie’s lips are a thin, straight line as he slowly approaches the chair, like a condemned prisoner shuffling to the gallows. You would think a guy who’s spent his life in locker rooms would be more comfortable showing skin.
Jamie doesn’t look at me. In fact, it’s pretty obvious he’s making a point of not even glancing at me.
Is it because looking at me in this state would make him even more nervous? Or because he’s worried about something inside his underwear swelling at the sight of me?
Finally, Jamie lets the robe slip off his shoulders.
Oh. Wow.
Heat tips into my bloodstream, barreling through my veins and turning the tension between my legs into a sharp pang. A warm, slick feeling pulses at the juncture of my thighs. My nipples instantly stiffen into sharp points.
Jamie’s body is … unreal.
Firm muscles ripple in supple waves under the healthy, golden glow of his skin.
His shoulders … all I can do is shake my head. So wide, so perfectly rounded. Muscles cover his long arms, articulated biceps bulging when he moves. The overhead lighting washing over him makes the veins in his thick forearms all too visible.
His chest is broad, his abs chiseled, and the tapered lines of muscle that carve into his lower torso make my brain feel fizzy.
His boxers are small, tight, and cling to his trim hips.
My fingers tingle as I imagine running them over the dips and peaks of the physique that stands so close. My better judgment must be on vacation.
Jamie continues to avoid looking in my direction as the instructor directs him on how to pose. He turns so we’re facing him at profile, one foot propped on the chair, bending so that he’s supporting his weight by resting his elbow against his lifted knee.
The way his muscles dance while he gets into position is mesmerizing.
Jamie holds his pose as the instructor gives us our directions. Today, we’re just going to be working on the outline: getting the limbs, proportions, and general position of the figure right.
It’s pretty fun. I can’t say that this has awoken a great love of painting in me, nor can I say that I’m a natural. But it’s enjoyable to try something new. I might just take Jamie’s advice and keep trying different things.
