Friend zone. I repeated the words to myself until my heart rate slowed, and then I cleared my throat.
“Um. Well. You know I like art—I mean, you know I did A-level art, and you saw my sketchpad in the barrow. Um. Here.” My hand shook as I sifted through my sketches and paintings to find the right one. Showing my art was so personal. It felt as if I were giving him a piece of me. A piece that had been private until now. Aleksi was the only other person who’d seen my work outside of my former classes, and it was different with him because he was an artist like me, and we worked on our art together.
I handed the textured cotton paper to him, and he studied it in silence, his hair falling over his forehead as he stared down at the page. My heart rate was increasing the longer he remained silent. He hated it. He?—
He lifted his gaze to mine. “Nova. This is fuckingincredible. Has Ryker seen this?”
I shook my head. “He… No. He used to get a bit touchy when I mentioned my art classes, you know, because of Alek being in them. And it’s…it’s hard, showing someone art of themselves.”
“I think he’d really like it.”
Staring at the watercolour painting I’d done of my brother on the ice, mid-motion with the puck flying across the rink, I shook my head. “You’re biased,” I mumbled, and his lips curved up.
“Yeah, probably, but I’m telling the truth. This is fucking incredible, and Ryker would love it. Have you drawn any more of him?” He carefully placed the paper down next to him on the bed and then looked at me expectantly.
I bit down on my lip, debating the cost of opening even more of myself up to him. There was one painting I’d done recently of Ryker—again, on the ice, but this one includedsome of his teammates. I’d kept them as vague outlines, except for the person he’d been passing the puck to, whom I’d painted in detail.
Fuck it, Nova. Just show him.
This time, my hand was steady as I passed the paper to him.
“Fucking hell,” he breathed. “Fuck. Come here.”
My sudden burst of confidence deserted me. “I-I can’t.”
“Nova. Come. Here.”
Forcing myself to move, I closed the scant space between us. He placed the painting down on top of the other one before moving them a safe distance away, and then, without any warning, tugged me down on top of him.
I gasped as his hand wrapped around my throat, tilting my head towards his, and then his mouth was on mine. He groaned against my lips as I opened up to him, and sparks raced through my body. It wasso good. I never wanted it to end.
Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I rocked forwards, feeling the hard line of his erection against me. “Fuck, Jay,” I moaned. “We can’t. We have to stop.” I was a liar. We didn’t stop. I kissed him harder, and his hand left my throat, his palms spanning my hips. We moved together in a slow, dirty grind, my hips rolling down against his bulge, kissing until I lost my breath. I was so wet, my core aching, and his cock was throbbing against my pussy through the thin layers of fabric. If we didn’t stop now?—
“Want you so much,” he rasped, mouthing at my neck, his teeth scraping over my skin, and I was helpless, lost, caught up in everything I wanted, right here with me. My silky sleep shorts dragged against his joggers as I ground down harder, sliding my pussy along his dick, the material between us soaked with our combined arousal. A low groanfell from his throat. “Fuuuck. I’m gonna fucking come if you keep doing that.”
“Me too,” I panted. His hands dived under my hoodie, finding my aching breasts, cupping them and stroking them and teasing my sensitive nipples until I was shuddering against him. “Jay. Gonna?—”
“Fuck.Yes. Come for me, princess.” His hands went back to my hips, sliding me harder and faster over his cock, sending me higher and higher until I shattered against him. He rasped my name, thrusting up, and I felt his cock pulse, hot cum soaking the fabric between us.
“Bloody hell.” I buried my face in the crook of his neck as we both panted for breath, while his hands stroked up and down my back beneath my hoodie.
“Yeah.” He exhaled unsteadily and then pressed a kiss to the side of my head. “I promise you that was not my intention when I came to your room.”
I huffed out a laugh. “I don’t think my art has ever had that effect on someone before.”
“The way you drew me,” he began, and I raised my head to meet his gaze.
“Oh, I see. You were turned on by yourself.”
He growled as he kissed away my smile. “Nope. It was all you. You’re a woman of many, many talents, and you deserve to be appreciated.”
“I definitely don’t mind you showing your appreciation in that way.”
“Yeah?” He grinned, pulling me into him. The next moment, he winced. “Fucking hell. I’m glad I have my gym bag with me.”
“Oh…” Reality set in as I became aware of the dampness clinging to my thighs, and I shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll leave you to clean up while I go and take a quick shower. Then we can…talk? Actually talk? Like friends do.”
“Like friends do,” he confirmed with a smirk. I shot him a warning look, and he held up his hands, his palms facing me. “I’ll keep my hands and my mouth to myself this time. Promise.”
