I stroked her clit more firmly and felt her shudder and splinter for me.
My name mixed with her cries as I took her in the sunlight and when I finally let myself go, my arms were wrapped around her, my face buried in her neck. The peace more drugging than any orgasm.
When she sagged against the table, I saw the painting tacked there.
The skies a mottled gray with a streak of sunlight shimmering on the lake.
The car shimmering in the dark depths.
“When did you do this?”
“Hmm?” She looked up at me with pleasure soaked eyes.
I kissed her nape. “The painting I just fucked you against.” I said with one last stroke.
“Oh.” She licked her lips. “Sorry, I don’t have any braincells yet.”
“Sorry.” I stepped away from her. “Sometimes it’s jarring how much you pull images from my writing into your paintings.”
The tiny lick of warning broke through the peace.
She fixed her clothes as she turned in my arms. “I see it sometimes.”
I frowned down at her.
“The way you talk about the lake. I pick up on it.”
“What do you mean?”
She looked uncomfortable. “It’s no big deal.”
I frowned. “Did you read my book?”
“What? No. I wish you’d let me, but no.”
I froze. “You didn’t peek at all?”
“No, never. I wouldn’t do that. I know you’re protective of your work. I got that loud and clear, Dutch. Believe me.” She eased around me and over to the kitchenette for a bottle of water.
“Then what do you mean?”
“Look, I don’t know how it works okay. I can sometimes feel what you do. I call it vibes, not that the word really means anything anymore. I pick up on emotions. I always have. My family can be a little volatile. Just like you.”
The suspicions faded.
“I’m sorry, Phoebe.” I walked toward her and she held up a hand.
“Look, I get it. We’re both artists. I’m probably the only person who really understands you like that and even I don’t know why you get set off sometimes.”
“I…”
The words were there on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t share the secret I held on to for too damn long.
“I just wish you trusted me with it.”
“I do trust you.”
“No, you really don’t.” She tossed the empty bottle into the recycle bin. “I have to unpack my truck.”
