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“So how are we going to do that?”
“You need to shake things up a little. Try something different.”
“What do you have in mind?” he asked.
“Paint me,” she said.
“I’m not really one for portraits.”
“No,” she said as she put her hand on his chest. “I don't want you to paint a picture of me. I want you to paint a picture on me.”
Patrick and Nikki had been in the bar for a couple of hours and more than a couple of shots by the time they had left. As they walked down the street Nikki stumbled. She grabbed onto Patrick’s arm almost taking him down with her .
“Oh my God. I am so wasted.”
“That was a lot of tequila,” he said, as he helped her get her footing back.
Then Nikki stopped abruptly. It had begun raining, ever so slightly. A light mist. She put her palms up to the sky. “Are you gonna take me home or what?”
“Come here.”
He led her a few more steps down the street. There was a dark, deserted alley on their right and he led her into it.
“Really?”
“Really,” he said, with a mischievous smile.
Nikki was never one to shy away from something a little down and dirty and in her present state this wasn’t about to be the first time.
Patrick walked her deeper into the alley, far enough so they wouldn't be visible from the street. Then he pushed her up against the brick wall and forced his mouth on hers. She responded in kind. In less than a minute they were full on hot and heavy, making out like maniacs and aggressively pawing at each other.
Then he spun her around and pressed his body up against hers. Running his hands freely over her chest, hips and ass. In no time he had her pants down around her ankles and was pushing himself deep inside her.
Nikki’s head was spinning. She was gasping with pleasure. “Yes, yes,” she shouted as she timed her thrusts with his. “Do me… Harder…”
Patrick wrapped his hand around her mouth to keep her quiet. She liked that too. She liked it all. At least she used to.
Something deep in the back of Nikki’s brain was telling her that this wasn’t as much fun as it used to be. As she slapped her hand up against the cold brick wall of the alley to steady herself, she cut her palm on a small chunk of rusty something. She didn’t know what.
She only knew that the sharp pain took her out of the moment and gave her a chance to get a good look at where she was. Standing in the middle of a dark, dirty, garbage strewn alley with her panties around her ankles while some guy who obviously didn’t really like her had his way with her.
24
The cool, wet bristles brushed over Ant’s bare skin. “That tickles,” she giggled.
He spoke without looking up. “You’re gonna have to hold still.”
After he had agreed to paint her, to paint on her, Romeo had organized the room. He had placed a clean sheet over the couch and laid Ant down on it. Then he gathered what he thought he might need and brought it over to the coffee table.
He had grabbed a few favorite colors, set out a few choice brushes and adjusted a light so it fell softly upon her skin. Then he got down on his knees next to her and asked, “What should I paint?”
“What do you see?”
“I see you.”
“Of course you do. But what else do you see?”
Romeo closed his eyes and thought. He let his mind wander. Soon an image came to him.
