Luster (5 page)

T
ruth be told
, I know exactly the kind of tension I’m stirring up in Falyn. I would even consider myself an expert on the matter. Wealthy women who have certain types of needs that they can’t fulfill used to be a favorite of mine.

As a guy who grew up in the shitty part of town, I had to learn to adapt. My dad caught a felony charge and ended up in prison when I was about seven. He was in there for six more years before dying from a heart attack. That left my mom with me and my sister.

A small ache twinges in my chest and I blink my eyes a few times to help clear my head. My mom was like a fucking superhero—she worked three different jobs until we were old enough to help out. She was one of the toughest but sweetest people anyone could’ve hoped to meet. But she wasn’t unsinkable, and when cancer took her from us after a few short months, I knew there would never be another woman in my life as important as she was.

Falyn clears her throat, snapping me back to the present. I glance up at her face, wondering what all might be causing that pretty blush of hers.

I grin because I already know the answer. I know her type very well. Of course she doesn’t know this, and that’s what makes it all the more fun for me. I forget about the darker thoughts, leaving them to settle back down under the surface, and get back to work on the shape of Falyn’s hip across my page.

It thrills me to no end seeing how she tries to avoid outright squirming in her seat. She doesn’t even realize it but she’s twirling a strand of hair around her finger, her eyes looking at anything and everything that isn’t me. She should be sitting still but I’ll give her another few minutes before I say anything.

I can’t help grinning wider. Daddy’s little princess is clearly thinking some naughty thoughts about yours truly. Not that I mind or anything.

She clears her throat yet again, and this time I can tell she’s waiting for me to look up so she can say something.

“Yeah?”

“It’s really warm in here. Can we turn the heat down a little?”

I smirk. She makes teasing her way too easy. “I know it’s distracting and all, but do I really need to put my shirt back on for you?”

There’s that same sassy look she keeps giving me. She wants so badly to be able to say something, but she knows she’ll ruin the pose. I’m not the type of guy she’s used to working with—she makes that obvious. She’s probably used to businessmen in monkey suits who are willing to kiss her sweet ass to be a part of what she’s doing. But she knows that’s not what’s happening here, and it’s clearly outside her comfort zone.

The very thing I’m going for, in fact.

“You know what I mean, Matt. Why do you have the heat blazing?”

I shrug. “Models are usually naked when I draw them so I try to be accommodating. If it’s too cold in here it makes for some crabby women with extremely hard nipples. And while I find the cooler temperature perfect for drawing the lovely female anatomy, the models don’t tend to agree with me. So I turn the heat on instead.”

She arches an eyebrow at me, carefully choosing her wording. “You’d rather me sweat?”

“Not really. But if it means that much to you I’ll go turn the heat off.”

Falyn snorts and bites her bottom lip. “You know what? I think I’ve figured it out… you just want an excuse to take your own clothes off.”

I put my hand up to my mouth. “How could you even suggest such a thing?” I say, mocking her. “I thought I already explained to you that I don’t need an excuse to get naked? It’s practically unnatural to keep all of this covered up from the human eye as it is. A crime against humanity, I’d call it.”

This breaks her from her stoic pose and Falyn doubles over, laughter bubbling out of her. In this rare moment where she lets her guard down somewhat, I take personal inventory of her. How her eyes crinkle in the corners where her hands go when she’s laughing. That ridiculous squeaking noise she’s making as she tries to hold it back.

It’s different to see her this way. Nice, even.

“It’s blasphemous!” Her voice is shrill and I join in, both of us laughing over my cheesy vanity. And if I keep her around it won’t be the last time.

Her shoulders loosen up when she sits back and I dive back into my drawing, desperately needing to catch the angles while she’s relaxed. This was what I was hoping for.

As her laughter fades, her round eyes go soft. Even when I’m not looking at her I can feel her gaze on me, and I practically hear the cogs and the wheels going around in her brain. She’s thinking about me but not like before.

This sets me on edge. Now I feel like
I’m
the one who’s being drawn.

I want to come up with something else to say to her, to throw her off whatever path her mind is taking her on. I’ve seen that same face before—that same look. It’s the one I used to get right before Dinah and I got together. Curiosity and something else.

I look up at Falyn and sneer. “Hold still. When you bounce your leg like that it makes you look like an impatient three year-old.”

Immediately she tenses right up, ruining the look I was going for. I thought that maybe she’d stop trying to somehow pry into my head looking for answers, but she hasn’t. And now I’ve just pissed her off.

“Why do you do that?” Her voice is barely above a whisper as she’s trying to keep still.

I don’t want to answer her but my mouth starts moving against my wishes. “Do what, exactly?”

“Act like that? Like an asshole. I get that you’re some too-cool-for-school guy, but you don’t have to be so damn rude to me.”

I expect her to be defensive but her tone suggests she’s being more careful with what she says. Whether it’s because she’s worried I’ll just make light of whatever she says again or not, I don’t know.

“I don’t do it on purpose,” I lie. “Guess I’m just really an asshole.”

She rolls her eyes so hard I worry that she’s about to tear a muscle. “I find that hard to believe.”

I don’t see how. I’m pretty much the biggest jerk I know. Besides Donald, even though he goes beyond being just a jerk. Or Dinah—but she’s a completely new level of shitty. That two-faced bitchy female kind where she holds way more power than she should.

There’s another word that I would use to describe that bitch, but my mom would rise from the grave and beat me into next Tuesday if I actually called her it.

“You’re in the minority there, babe. There’s no secret sweet and mushy side to me that I’m just not showing you. With me, what you see is what you get.”

She shrugs off my reply, and it only makes me want to further prove myself. Suddenly I feel like I want to show her how much of jerk I can really be, but I refrain. This is a business partnership after all. And while I may be an asshole I’m no idiot. I happen to like making money.

“Yeah, you keep saying that,” she says slowly, looking to the garage door over her shoulder. “How much longer will this take?”

I look down at what I have so far. The sketch of Falyn herself is pretty much done, all I have to do is just fill in the shadows around her. I’ve been keeping an eye on the clock though and realize that I’ve really been dragging this out. What would usually take me about forty-five minutes to draw, turned out to take a little over two hours.

I get up from the stool and stand back for a moment, looking between the page and Falyn. I’ve managed to capture her likeness pretty well, but something is missing. I’m just not sure what it is.

“Matt? How long?”

I walk around the couch until I’m behind her, studying the graceful way her neck slopes down under the cloud of brown hair she has pulled back. Falyn sits still, waiting for me to answer.

“I’m going to need you to come back. Another time.”

She cranes her neck to look back at me, confused. “What? We did not agree to that.”

I start pacing, trying to think clearly. I need to finish this. I need to keep her coming back until I get what I want. That weird voice in my head that takes over when I’m working is hissing in my ear, telling me this isn’t over. I need her still.

“The deal was for me to come and be your model or whatever, and then you would answer my interview questions and sign the contract!”

Falyn is already standing up, reaching for her clothes. Even though I’ve been staring at her naked body for a while, I’m sort of longing for her to stay put and let me really get a good look at her. In a different kind of way.

An idea pops in my head. I can play this just right—play it to my advantage and I’ll get her right where I want her. Only moments later I’m quickly smoothing over the situation. “You’re absolutely right. It’s just that… well, I can’t always predict what my muse will come up with. Something is telling me that I need to keep sketching you until I get that perfect picture. It started with your killer legs, but now that I’ve seen the rest of you, there’s more I need to do. Does that make sense?”

She thinks that maybe I’m a nice and sensible guy deep down. So that’s what I’ll give her.

Falyn shoots me a questioning look as she finishes getting dressed. “I’m not a creative,” she says before sighing as she grabs her purse, “but I guess I get it. Just promise me that the next time I come by, you’ll hold up your end of the bargain. Okay?”

Her eyes are wide and pleading with me, begging me not to pull a fast one on her. I look her straight in the eyes. “Okay.” My mouth feels like I’ve just swallowed dirt when she gives me a quick nod.

I’m not a liar. I hate liars, in fact. So why the hell did I just lie to her?

“As an extra incentive, how about I reward you next time?”

She turns back around, tilting her head to one side. “Um. Okay…?”

So I just roll with it—I’m sure I can come up with something rewarding enough. “Excellent. Can’t wait.”

I watch Falyn leave, her hips swaying ever so slightly as she walks away. If there’s one thing I can take away from all of this: Falyn has the body of a goddess that’s never been properly worshipped by anyone. And maybe a small part of me wants to show her how it’s done.

I
may not be
an artist or hell, a creative in the slightest, but I do know that Matt is stalling this whole thing. Anyone who looks at the drawing he did of me could tell you that. His talent is no secret, so I have to wonder what exactly he needs from me to pull off this art piece he has in mind.

The most ridiculous part of it all? Deep down, I don’t really mind it. Strangely enough I do feel a little more… confident walking out of his studio, than when I first walked in. Even the drawings draped across the various surfaces and wall-space didn’t throw me off this time.

And okay, there may have been a few times where Matt’s hand grazed against my hip or my breast, sending overwhelming sparks of feeling between my legs. I may have enjoyed that part a bit, too.

When you have a man like Matt Walsh both touching you and barking orders at you, it can be a little confusing to the brain. Like your body is desperate for more but your mind is chiding you for just taking it.

I’m pulling into Eliza’s drive before I even realize it, my car halting to a stop as I yank the e-brake up. The thoughts of Matt and how sexy he looked even hunched over are clogging up my brain. I bite my lip and try to forget the way his thumbs dug gently into the sides of my knees as he pried my legs apart, pushing them open.

My pussy aches at the thought of his face, his breath being so close to it. I quickly squeeze my legs together, rolling my hips to try and take the edge off. My eyes flutter shut and I see the way Matt grins up at me, his mouth quirked up on the one side. His smile isn’t blazingly white and perfect like you’d see on TV. One of his bottom teeth is chipped, and I could smell the previous night’s drink still on his breath.

I shouldn’t think any of that is attractive… but I do. Matt and his mop of dirty blonde hair, and those weird scars on his back. How he walks around in a room like he’s a cross between James Dean and a lion tracking its prey. The teasing yet still slightly venomous way he calls me princess. I hate it. I hate it so much that it makes me angry for betraying myself, my own dignity just to land this guy’s work in our hotels.

How did he, some random guy, manage to convince me?

And behind my lids I imagine Matt’s face. The light in his green eyes as he challenges me. No one ever does this, especially those I form partnerships with. My mind wanders, thinking about his stubbly face rubbing up against my inner thighs, his mouth only inches away from me.

KNOCK-KNOCK.

Thank god I have my seatbelt on because if I didn’t then I just know I would’ve jumped up and knocked my head against the roof of my car just now. On the other side of my window Eliza is grinning from ear to ear at me, clearly enjoying my reaction.

Damn. I must have really been in a daze.

“You must have had a long day. Nearly passing out in my driveway and all,” she laughs as I walk behind her into the row house.

“You have no idea.”

“I saw when you first pulled up. You looked a little out of it. What’s on your mind?”

I immediately blush, thinking about how warm and wet I must be right now. I don’t just randomly try to rub against things like that, but Matt and everything about him… it was really working me over.

“Sorry about that. It’s been a weird day, to say the least. I guess I was just trying to let some of it go before I came inside,” I reply, knowing how fixated on chakras and energy my best friend is.

She solemnly nods. “I hear ya. And thank you for that. The last thing I need is more negative energy flowing in my house. Since Reagan left a week ago it feels so much lighter and less repressive in here. Don’t you think?”

I squint one eye and give her a small smile. “Yeah, I think you’re right. It definitely feels happier in here. Although that could just be because you aren’t fighting over rent with her anymore.”

Eliza crosses her arms firmly across her chest as she takes a seat in her favorite overstuffed armchair. She’s looking out the window, avoiding my gaze. “We weren’t fighting over rent.”

“Oh?”

She purses her lips before finally looking back my way. “I may have told her that she didn’t have to pay rent.”

Oh boy. “Didn’t have to pay rent? What in the hell, Eliza? Why would you tell her that? You need the money. That’s the whole reason you went looking for a new room-mate!”

But I already know what she’s going to say before she says it.

“We kind of started dating. A month ago. And then she wanted to have an open relationship, and I just wasn’t down for all that… so we broke up.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “E, I love you dearly, but you have got to stop letting people walk all over you like that! Don’t let someone make you do something you don’t want to do. You deserve way more than some idiot who thinks they can get a free ride. Or whatever else they have up their sleeve.”

She swivels herself around to face me head-on, a weird look on her face. “Something tells me you’re not talking about me and Reagan.”

I go to open my mouth but think better of it. I have no idea what she’d say about me and Matt’s arrangement at this point. And I damn sure don’t need her holding it over my head in the future.

That doesn’t satisfy her though. “Spill it. Now.”

So I do. I tell her everything from what she already knew until me leaving his studio earlier. Eliza just sits there, totally entranced with my story.

Finally, she sits forward. The determination on her face lets me know that she’s got something hatching in her crazy brain.

“I know what we need to do. What you need to do,” she says, pointing at me. “You’ve got it bad. If the sexual tension between the two of you is that insane, then there’s only one thing you can do to truly let it go.”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

Eliza tilts her chin up at me. “You’ve got to fuck him. Like an all-night, mind-blowing sex fest until neither one of you can move any more. Then you can up and bounce in the morning, having gotten that out of your system.”

I laugh so hard I nearly fall out of the chair I’ve just sat down in. “Seriously? You have to be kidding me, Eliza. Why on earth would I do that? I can’t stand the guy! And what about the contract, huh? I can’t have sex with Matt and then very well turn around and pay him. That would be like… like prostitution or something.”

“No, no. Now you just sound ridiculous. It wouldn’t be like prostitution because you wouldn’t be paying him for the sex. Just for his artwork, which I’m assuming is all broken down in the contract. No, it would be more like a handshake. To ensure a good working relationship,” she says, pulling her long rope of multi-colored braids over her shoulder.

I roll my eyes at her. She clearly doesn’t get how business is supposed to be conducted. “So I just hit it and quit it, then have him sign the contract and move on? No. No way.”

But even as the word ‘no’ leaves my mouth, something inside me stirs. Part of what she’s saying makes sense… or maybe I’m just telling myself that because the idea of fucking Matt was slowly swirling around my head already.

She smirks at me. “I can tell you’re thinking about it right now, and honestly I don’t blame you. He’s hot. Not to mention talented and arrogant. Ain’t my type obviously, but still. Something about that combination just oozes sex appeal.”

“Just because he’s hot does not mean I’m going to turn around and give into the idea. If I had sex with every guy I thought was attractive I’d be too busy bending over to get anything done. I’d prefer a man that knows how to treat a woman respectfully.”

“I get it, Falyn. You don’t want to date an asshole. But that’s not what I’m suggesting here. I’m saying fuck Matt, get it out of your system, and then you can move on and look for a good guy. I was meaning to talk to you about that, actually.”

I raise my brow.

“How about you let me set you up on a date with one of the guys from the Board of Directors at the de Young? He’s a really nice guy. Opens your door for you, all of that gentlemanly jazz. What do you say?”

Part of me just wants to drive back home, but part of me is actually intrigued for once. “I’m listening.”

* * *

E
liza squeals
as she hits the send button on her email. She’s set me up with some guy she knows from the museum she’s affiliated with.

That’s not the part that’s sticking in the forefront of my mind, though. All I can think about now is the first step in this plan. Hopefully once it’s all said and done Matt will no longer be invading my mind, and I can finally take home the contract signed and ready to go.

But first thing’s first. I need to fuck Matt Walsh.