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I pressed my face into her neck, dragging in that honeyed vanilla scent that clung to her. And maybe a little bit of me was mixed with her now.
The thought made me greedy enough to wish I could have her all over again.
Once certain body parts rejuvenated anyway.
I gently pulled out of her, holding the edge of the condom as I rolled off her. Then I sat up and looked over at her. She had her arm over her face, and she was still breathing hard.
Carefully, I nudged her arm away so I could see her. “It’s never been like this for me either.”
She glanced away.
I tugged back her chin so she would look at me. Her eyes were so damn sad. “Is that so bad?”
She rolled onto her side before tucking her hand under a pillow, but she didn’t answer me.
I blew out a breath and went into the bathroom to take care of the condom.
When I came back out, she was waiting for me. I took it as a good sign that she was still wearing my T-shirt instead of changing into her clothes. She touched my chest briefly then slid past me and closed the door behind her.
Dammit, why was everything so hard with her? Couldn’t she see how good we were together? Would it really be so awful trying to make this work?
Maybe I was an asshole.
Padding over to the bench near the dresser in my room, I pulled out my notebook from my messenger bag and sat down. Now that I knew more about her, I could fill in some of the blurrier details. The little mole beside her chin and another on the edge of her collarbone. The hoops she wore.
I didn’t know how long she was in the bathroom, but when I looked up, she was staring down at my drawing.
Her eyebrows knitted as she drank in the details—including the red scarf I’d adjusted on the form. It was an undulating ribbon of cashmere dancing around her curves.
“Are you drawing me?”
“Drew, actually.” I turned the pad around so she could get a better look.
“Naked?”
“Well, it was more of a wish fulfillment thing at first. This crazy-beautiful girl kisses me under the mistletoe—”
“And so, you what? Go for an anime version of me with lusher tits and ass?”
“No.” I looked down at the drawing. “Okay, so it’s a little more of an idealized woman instead of you.”
“Thanks.”
“No.” I growled. “It’s coming out wrong. I just drew you because I couldn’t get you out of my head. And now you’re here, and I wanted to capture you.” I set the notebook down and touched the little mole on her chin. “The real you.”
I traced the back of my knuckles down her neck. “Longer, more elegant neck and finer shoulders. Beautiful, firm breasts.” I cupped her for a moment before sliding down to her hips and the scrap of lace she’d put back on.
I dug my fingers into her hips and drew her closer to me. “The real woman I’m getting to know is the one I want, not the moment’s fantasy.”
She was still frowning, but she didn’t pull away. “It’s a lot, Callum.”
“I’m an artist—for real. It’s how I process things. It was the only thing I could do to figure out how to keep the moment.”
“But I’m naked.”
I huffed out a half laugh. “Well, I’m still a guy. And you’re so goddamn beautiful, you stole my brain cells.” I lifted my hands to cup her face. “I admit it, I’m a little weird. But you have a notebook full of floating heads from magazines that you attacked with scissors and glue.”
She laughed and relaxed a little. “I suppose that’s true.”
