Page 21 of Tanner

When I’m finished, purple now covers most of the red, but some pieces are still there.

Just like me.

Aaron will always be my story. No matter how much I try to forget him, I can’t, and I shouldn’t. No matter what happens beneath the surface, I’m still me. Strong. Determined. Powerful.

I’m ready for what’s next.

The song ends, and so does my painting. I turn to find Tanner staring at me with the most expressive smile.

“You’re exquisite,” he says, stepping toward me.

I look down, noticing my dress is covered in paint as well as my shoes that are lying on the floor, but I really don’t care. They’re just shoes.

I return his smile. “I feel beautiful. Probably for the first time in my life.” Normally, I’d be too embarrassed to admit anything like that, but right now, nothing can take me down, not even my own self-doubt.

“I want to paint you,” he says.

I blush and nod. No one has ever painted me before, but this is a night of firsts.

He steps closer, wrapping his arms around my back, and slowly starts to unzip my dress.

My eyes widen as my breath hitches. “What are you doing?”

His lips tug up in the corner. “I said I wanted to paint you. Is that okay?”

“You mean, literally?”

“You’re my muse, and your body is my canvas.” His voice is soft, and his eyes are filled with the utmost conviction. “Do you trust me?” he asks over a barely audible whisper, like he’s afraid of the answer.

His questioning gives me more motivation. I do trust him. In this moment, I feel like I owe my rebirth to him, and I’m more than willing to do anything he asks.

Instead of answering, I help him. I reach over to the left sleeve, pulling it down my arm before working on the right. Slowly, I shimmy out of the dress, letting it pool at my feet.

The dress was so snug up top that I didn’t wear a bra, and now, I’m standing in front of him with only my thong panties on, offering my body in a way I never thought I would.

Tanner’s eyes take me in. Every curve, every lump, every blemish, and all I see is appreciation reflecting back at me.

It feels natural. I don’t feel embarrassed or ashamed. I never liked to be completely naked with Aaron, yet, in this moment, I’ve never felt more secure and attractive in my own skin.

Tanner’s pupils dilate, and there’s a hunger to his eyes. He likes what he sees, but he doesn’t say it. The way his throat bobs with a hard swallow lets me know he’s holding back.

He leads me over to an open space in the room and gathers a group of pillows from a closet. Then, he tosses them, covers them with a blanket, and sits me down.

Once I’m comfortable, he pulls the large table filled with supplies over to where I’m sitting, pops the tops off various cans of paint, and makes a palette. With a brush in hand, he steps back and stares at my body as the canvas it is. His eyes widen as he decides what his creation will be.

He dips the brush in white paint. When the brush hits the skin of my thigh, it tickles, and I flinch at the sensation.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he says as he swirls up my leg.

I look down and watch as he creates an intricate flower. While Tanner paints petals dancing up my leg, the paint melts against my warm body with each stroke.

As the brush lifts up the inside of my thigh, my core clenches with need. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced, and he isn’t even physically touching me, only the brush. Among the petals, he inscribes a word—Pure. It’s ironic since I’m feeling anything but.

He grabs another brush and dips it onto his palette. I can’t help but laugh slightly as the brush tickles against my stomach. He tries to hide his grin as he continues his work, his eyes focused as he creates his masterpiece.

This time, the flowers he’s drawing are yellow, and I notice they are actually roses. Hundreds of roses—some opened up, some barely budding.

He lifts his thin black brush again and writes Friendship across my stomach. I smile at the thought of him explaining the meaning of roses on my body.