"I can't believe you're more interested in that store-bought paintbrush than a homegrown one."
"You need to leave if you're going to be disruptive."
"I'm not here to distract you. I'm here to inspire you," I told her.
"Oh yeah?" She set the paintbrush down and picked up a different brush to add little bits of yellow to the canvas.
"You said you would paint me nude."
"Did you want me to make a nude painting of you or literally paint you nude?" she asked, still studying the canvas with an expert eye.
"Your choice."
Hazel turned her head slightly and smiled at me. She might have thought we were flirting, but I was very serious.
I watched her fuss with the painting a little more. Then she stepped back. "I think that's it."
"Great!" I said. "Let's go on a date to celebrate. We could go dumpster diving, or I could watch you bend over a dumpster."
She smacked me lightly.
"The presentation is tomorrow," Hazel said. "I need to watch the painting and make sure everything is drying okay."
I raised an eyebrow. "So you'd literally rather watch paint dry than come out with me?"
She looked at me askance. "Youhiredme to do a job. There's a lot riding on this for you. What if while we're out, a pipe breaks or a giant bird flies into the room? No. I can't leave."
She went to the sink to wash off her brushes. I used the opportunity to strip down. We weren't going out? Fine. I could be very entertaining inside too.
I debated. Should I leave the boxer briefs on? No, I shouldn't.
She turned around, carrying a jar with brushes in it. She almost dropped it when she saw me posed in front of her.
"I wasn't kidding about the nude painting."
33
Hazel
Archer had kept hinting at the nude painting bit, but I didn't quite expect it. Not that it was unwelcome seeing him standing there in front of me.
"You're wearing too many clothes," he told me, setting the glass mason jar I was holding aside.
I could only stare at him. "I really do want to paint you."
Archer's eyes narrowed slightly. I was sort of used to the playful Archer. This one was all desire. His cock was erect. The heat from his hands almost burned through the sheer slip I was wearing.
My panties were soaking wet. Archer's eyes flicked down to the outline of my nipples against the thin fabric. He pulled me to him. His hard cock pressed against my bare thigh.
"I didn't get to fuck you last time," he whispered to me, his hands sliding down the sheer fabric, catching on the lace. The muscles on his back rippled under my palms as I ran my hands over the smooth skin.
"Don't rip off my slip," I told him. "It's vintage."
"Then take it off," he murmured.
I pulled it over my head and let it fall in a pool on the floor.
Archer kissed me. It was deep and powerful. His hands roamed over my skin, and I reached down between us to feel him.
