Work of Art ~ the Collection (104 page)

Work of Art Book II ~ My Kind of Forever

After Max and Ava’s pivotal trip to Santa Fe

A
s I drag the brush dripping with crimson paint across the blank canvas I keep glancing over to the canvas on my right. I keep going back to this last work, layering more paint, more color but I’m still furious because it isn’t right.
I hate it.
At this very second I hate everything about it, and I take my palette and hurl it at the travesty pretending to be a painting.

“Worthless garbage!”

The violent act scars the canvas surface with blotches of random color. The initial satisfaction of letting out my rage is short lived.
What in the hell is wrong with me?

If Ava were here she’d soothe me and quiet the ugly noise in my head. I’ve ached for her since Santa Fe and suddenly not having her with me is unbearable. I don’t give a fuck about the late hour or the number of miles between us. I grab my stuff, get in my car and fire up the engine. I need to get to her.

I’m almost to Ava’s apartment when I realize that showing up in the middle of the night without warning might not be a good idea so I pick up my phone.

Her sleepy voice is the best sound. “Hey, handsome. What’s up?”

The words tumble out of me, probably not making any sense at all until she says exactly what I need to hear.

“Come over. I’ll be here waiting.”

When I’m finally sitting next to her on her couch she’s my port in a storm, touching me, grounding me, and reminding me how big love can be.

She listens to me share how my anxiety has spiraled since we’ve been home and separated. She doesn’t judge me, just holds and soothes me. She’s the first person besides family who really understands my idiosyncrasies, and it gives me hope.

But then I remember that I can support her too. Her eyes light up when I open my bag and give her the books I bought for her project. I’ll buy her books every day just to see that sweet smile.

“Max, what made you think to get me these?”

Doesn’t she understand that I’d do anything for her?

I peel away all the darkness so she can look in my heart. “I’m always thinking about you, and want to help you. I want your happiness more than my own now. I fucking love you, Ava.”

Her face is full of emotion, as she sighs and crawls over my thighs. I ascend to my kind of heaven when she straddles me. The way she tenderly cups my face with her hands before she kisses me diffuses my anxiety. Now a different kind of fire’s lit and I’m burning.

I run my hands over her silky skin as she sinks onto my lap where I’m hard for her. When I part her satin robe open and she’s gloriously naked, I’m overcome with raw desire.

She undoes my jeans, and I help her. When her hand is finally gripping my cock she licks her lip, her expression brimming with lust as she whispers, “Do you know how good it feels when you’re inside me?”

If you tell me Ava, I may never leave.

She takes a deep breath as she lifts her hips and hovers over me.

“Come on, baby,” I whisper, my gaze focused where she’s pressed against me.

We both moan as she sinks down until I’m completely inside of her.

I take a sharp breath, close my eyes, and thank the gods for this otherworldly woman who can both bring me to my knees and make me fly.

She rocks her hips slowly, my head falls back, but my gaze never breaks away from hers. She knows she owns me as she rises and falls over my world.

I love her soft until she begs for hard, watching her eyes widen and feeling her heart pound under my fingertips. My hands slide down to cup her ass as I guide us to the point where things get wild.

With each hard swivel of her hips I’m more stirred up.

“Like this?” She asks her skin damp, her hair tangled wisps around her face.

Oh yeah, just like this baby. Fuck me forever.

“ . . .
this
is all I need.”

Work of Art Book III ~ Eight Miles and a Flight of Stairs

A session with Max and his therapist after the Barcelona trip

W
hen I sit down in my therapist's office
,
I get the Cara smile. My therapist and savior is benevolent. She will smooth out my rough edges so that I can live outside my head for yet another day. Without Cara I wouldn't have Ava. She conjures that magic that keeps me from scaring my Ava away.

As I start to talk she begins to write on the pad. I wonder if she'd mind if I drew a picture of her in her chair while she's writing about me. Then I wouldn't show her the drawings, just like she won't show me her notes.

"Okay Max, let's talk about the stuff we've been working on recently such as your fear of abandonment and how that plays into certain dynamics with Ava. Did you experience any of that on this trip to Barcelona?"

"You mean like when I called you from that dinner party at four in the morning your time?"

"Yes."

"I'm still sorry about that. I was in such a state I forgot the time difference."

"Well, now that you’re calmer I want to get into more depth regarding what that was about."

"It's really simple . . . I mean like stick figure drawings-simple. There was a room full of fuckers that wanted to fuck my girl. Any man in love would have had some serious issues that evening with these men hitting on his woman. When that waiter brushed up against her breast I imagined doing a Luis Buñel on him and sliding my butter knife across his eye."

"That's very violent, Max. Do you understand how violent that is?"

"Of course, but that's how I felt. It doesn't mean I would do it. I mean, I didn't do it, don't I get points for that?"

"Do you see a scoreboard here in my office?" She waves her hands towards the wall. "We aren't keeping score, Max."

"Well, we should because I would’ve won the fucking game that night. I was restraining myself all the fuck over the place. Remember when Ava and I first got together and I went nuts when she met with that editor that wasn't even hitting on her?"

"Yes, I remember that vividly."

"Well, compared to that I showed a Grand Canyon full of restraint that night. She had men all over her, and I didn't go after even one of them."

"Tell me more," Cara prompts.

"See, Ava doesn't understand, which of course is part of her allure, that she’s the most beautiful, desirable woman in the world. She walks into a room with her cream-dipped skin and maraschino cherry lips parted just so and men fall over themselves. It's all they can do not to bend her over the dessert table and take her immediately while the fruit tarts cascade to the floor."

"Men?"

"Yes, all men."

"Can you consider, Max, that when you talk about bending her over the desert table you’re really taking about the beast within yourself?"

"Well, that's a given Cara, but I'm talking about the rest of the men too."

"Does it occur to you that everyone may not think the way you do?"

"Well, I sure as hell hope that not everyone thinks like I do or this would be an even crazier, fucked-up world. But these men made their intentions quite clear."

She taps her pen on the edge of her pad. "Give me an example."

"Sure, let's take Prince Fuckwad. He sat next to my baby, and I could see the heat rise off of him every time he looked at her."

"You could
see
the heat?"

"Yes, it was curling swirls of red. I do believe that only I see these things at times, but the swirls were perfectly defined to me. I sat across the way so I had a perfect vantage point to see it.”

"Was Ava showing any interest in this Prince that would cause you to feel insecure?"

"No, she was just being polite. Which certainly helped me restrain myself. I knew she’d be furious at me if I caused a scene."

"I'm sure you're right."

"The thing is, my girl is so damn smart. She's so much smarter than me, and she knows how to be professional in the most trying of circumstances."

"So, do you see that she sets a good example for you?"

"Yes, but the Prince was just the beginning. Meanwhile, the museum's curator, Diego the Dick, suddenly becomes touchy feely Octopus man. Every chance he got he was stroking Ava's arm or resting his hand on her shoulder."

"How did that make you feel?"

"I know you’re asking if I felt threatened because he was invading her space and trying to stake a claim. But let me be a bit more caveman clear about this—I wanted to pull his fingers off, one by one."

"I find all of these violent thoughts fascinating, Max, because you don't have a history of violent acts."

"Cara, if I acted out half of the shit that goes on in my head I'd be locked up by now. Instead I sit in here and tell you about it." I give her a big smile.

"Anything else?"

"Well, the icing on the cake was when I find our P.R. lady, Paloma, giving Ava a rubdown and asking if she can come with her to her room. Even though we didn't get the full-on lusting lesbian confirmation until the next night, it was clear to me that Paloma was hitting on Ava too."

"You’re making it sound like Ava got more attention than you did. Considering that it was your show, did that bother you?"

"I was too busy freaking out to let that bother me. But I can tell you that when Paloma put Ava in that car back to the hotel, I jumped in with her. I was so mad I couldn't even talk for several blocks."

"Why were you mad at Ava if she didn't do anything to encourage this behavior?"

"I know, I know, but I'd lost it at that point." I sigh, remembering what happened next. "So you know what my girl does? She makes it a game, and asks me if I'm planning on having angry sex with her?"

"Interesting. What did you think of that?"

"Are you kidding? I was so aroused that I considering taking her in the back of the car."

"Ava is getting very adept at using distraction as a technique for handling your elevated episodes."

"Well, I was distracted all right. We could barely get upstairs fast enough. I had to peel her off me in the elevator."

Cara shifts in her chair. "So what happened upstairs?"

I pause. This is crossing the line for me. I don't talk about Ava and my sex life in therapy or anywhere. It's too sacred to me. Making love to Ava is my religion . . . our bed is my altar.

"You don't have to get graphic, Max, Just tell me if you were comfortable with what happened between you two."

I close my eyes and remember the feelings: anger and fierce desire wound together so tight that I could barely breathe. My slacks were straining; I wanted to yank them open and pull her onto my lap . . . but instead she stands before me, her hand on her hip, taunting me.

"
So why are you mad at me, Max?"

"
Because you clearly were not dissuading the people that wanted to fuck you."

"
So you think I wanted them?" She bites her bottom lip as I watch her with fury in my eyes.

She’s playing with fire.
"
Are you sure about this, Ava?"

I look up to see Cara watching me curiously.

"You look unsettled. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Well, it's unsettling when your woman taunts you to punish her. I could’ve never imagined purposely spanking the woman I adore and then realizing that she likes it. The idea of possibly hurting her, even if she asks for it, even if I don't intend to . . . is beyond reprehension."

"I see."

"After the second smack, she begged me to do it harder."

"Did you?"

"Only a bit, but I talked harder. I went all
master
on her, dominating . . . a caveman."

"And how did that make you feel?"

I feel the embarrassment burn across my face as I look up at Cara.

"How did I feel? Primitive, like a man . . . like I owned her and I liked it. I can sit here now and say that is fucked up and wrong, but in that moment it felt right."

"Well, it is important to acknowledge those feelings, Max."

And I acknowledge them all right. Because Ava then demanded to be spanked more, and when I hesitated, she told me that the Prince wouldn't have turned her down."

I don't like the look on Cara's face. We both know how wrong it was for Ava to say that even if she was just trying to provoke me.

"You should have stopped it then," Cara advises.

Cara makes notes on her pad. I can only imagine what those notes say as I remember the look in Ava’s eyes and the fury burning under my skin.

"
Who do you belong to?"

"
You," she whispers.

"
Do you want those other men? Do you think anyone could fuck you like I can?"

"
No, no one could ever do to me what you do, Max," she whispers, trying not to smile.

"
Ask me for it," I demand.

"
Please," she moans.

"
Please what, Ava?"

"
Please, please fuck me."

As I take her the sensation is so overwhelming that I’m high way beyond what any drug could do to me. We are heat and passion, darkness and light. I can tell I'm not going for the long haul. I'm too aroused, and I know that a climax is the only thing that will pull this fury out of me. "Touch yourself," I demand.

Her hand slips between her legs, and it doesn't take long before I can feel her coming undone as her ass grinds into me. The vision of watching her get herself off is beyond words. In that moment I realize the truth—she is my lioness, fierce and proud. As soon as she starts to come I go over the edge. My release is mind-bending, as I take her with everything I have.

I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, trying to regain focus and slow my breathing. My heart is pounding. I can only imagine what Cara thinks.

"How were things when you were . . . done?" Cara asks, looking down at her notes.

"How were things?" I ask, tipping my head. Is she asking about the weather or how hard I came?

"How did you feel? How did she feel?"

"Satisfied," I whispered. "Very satisfied."

Cara looks over at the clock. She looks flustered. "Well, I see our time is up, Max. Are we meeting Thursday at the same time? We can discuss this more then."