Yellow might be the right color for him, something bright like he is. I add a few streaks to the canvas, but it feels wrong. Totally wrong. A surge of frustration pulses through me, and I snatch the canvas, tossing it off the stand.
Dax gives a little jump, but he’s good at getting back into position right away.
“Fuck it,” I say as I approach him again. “Stay like this.”
I look him over some more, trying to take it in, but my muse isn’t satisfied. I need more. I follow my instinct, the impulse that drives me, moving closer, resting my hand on his elbow, then sliding it down along the inside of his arm before placing my hand on his hip. Closing my eyes, I trace his body from either side, getting a feel for those things my eyes can’t fully appreciate.
How smooth and taut his bare flesh is.
How warm as I glide across muscle and bone.
I take my time, covering every inch, noticing the shift as his breath hitches. God, even his breathing is sexy.
As I make my way down, I squat, getting a grip on that firm ass. His stiffened cock is right in my face, so I take full advantage, rubbing my cheek along it, letting my lips take another taste before sliding it into my mouth.
“Oh hell,” he moans as I explore his length, memorizing his cock with my mouth, but eventually I have to move on, so I release it and continue probing down to his ankles, caressing until I’m satisfied I’ve covered every inch of him. I give the head of his cock a kiss and a lick before standing up, my eyes still sealed as I process everything I’ve just felt. When I open my eyes, I notice how close his lips are to mine, how easy it would be to take another kiss, something he seems to notice too, but I know that if I do that, I’ll miss out on this opportunity, and I can’t, not when I’m feeling this inspired. Not when I think that might’ve solved my issue.
“Don’t move,” I order him as I grab another canvas and set it up on the stand.
Gold, it has to be gold. It needs to be bolder, brighter, glowing like he does.
Yes, this feels right…
I bite my bottom lip as I work, not even having to look up much since I can still feel the ridges of his body, proud I’ve memorized them so well.
But that’s short-lived because things go downhill fast.
No! I was wrong, dammit!
My hands tense, my fingers refusing to obey for another brushstroke, so I chuck the canvas once again, the stand toppling over. “Why isn’t it right?”
I’m worried my behavior might be concerning to Dax, but he’s silent, lets me have my moment before I set up yet again, sneering at the blank ivory linen, the brush hovering, but I stop myself because I’m missing something. I quiet my mind the best I can. “Talk to me, Dax.”
“About?”
“I don’t fucking know.” God, this is so damn infuriating.
“Well, I had a grilled-cheese sandwich earlier.”
“Did you make it?”
“Yeah, why?”
“That’s kind of adorable that you make grilled-cheese sandwiches.”Focus!“No, that’s not what I meant.” I can feel a headache coming on, I’m stressing myself out so much over this. “I need something bigger. Talk to me about something from your life. Something that matters. I don’t care what. Just go.” I sound like I’m mad at him, but I’m mad at myself for not understanding what I’m doing wrong and why none of it feels right yet.
“Tell me about your mom.” I regret the words as soon as they come out. It’s too intrusive. Fuck, I’d lose my mind if someone asked me to just start talking about mine. “Sorry, no. This whole thing is a shitty idea.”
Frustrated, I grab the blank canvas, ready to chuck it to the floor with the others when Dax says, “No, no. It’s okay. I’m fine with that.”
The tension in me ebbs, and as I refocus on him, I see the sorrow in his expression. Yes, not gold. Gold was all wrong. What the hell is wrong with me?
Conflicted as I am about what I’m asking of him, I can tell he’s about to give me exactly what I need. Exactly what will allow me to capture Dax. TherealDax Armstrong.
16
Dax
Idon’t reallyunderstand what’s going on here. Miles is such a mystery.
