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“It’s also made with milk.” When had she started shivering? “I’d have to take a shower right away.”
“We can do that.” He waggled his brows and made her smile. “You can do me too. Just don’t paint anything I can’t afford to lose.”
A laugh escaped her as she shrugged out of her smock yet again. “Ditto.” Taking a steadying breath, she strolled to her easel. “How do you feel about red?”
“Why red?”
“Because it’s an angry color and I rarely use it. You seem like you’re capable of exploding into rages if provoked.”
She frowned. Why had she said that? Though she’d been teasing, he probably didn’t understand her humor yet.
He only grinned. “Other ways I explode are much more fun. Let me demonstrate.”
“Why do I believe that?” She came back to him, her backup brush and red paint in hand. “Just a little,” she warned as he moved closer, brush extended. That wasn’t all that had extended. His cock hardened, not all the way but gaining ground fast.
She tried not to stare and realized she’d lost the battle when he chuckled. “Look your fill. I am.”
Before she could comment, he smeared yellow in the valley between her breasts. The cool paint made her tremble and her nipples tightened to obvious peaks. “It’s cold.”
His mouth curved. “I’ll warm you up. Promise.” He painted the center of her torso, twisting the brush so the slightly rough bristles scraped her skin. God, everything he did to her felt so good.
“You know what I’d like to paint?” he asked after adding another couple of experimental flourishes to her quivering belly. He circled her, jabbing the brush into the paint so hard she heard it bump the bottom of the cup. “Your ass. Both perfect round cheeks.”
“Yellow? That can’t be sexy.”
“It is from back here.” He’d already started sweeping the bristles down her left cheek. That she couldn’t see precisely what he was doing added another thrill. “I’d love to see this ass in jeans. It’s made for them. Those really tight ones, with the low-rise waist.”
In spite of herself, she giggled. Actually giggled. “I don’t wear those kind of jeans.”
“You should.”
“Mmm hmm. Maybe with a tube top too, no bra. And my hair all loose. Oh, and high heels. The really high kind I can’t walk in.”
He continued to paint her left cheek. “Slutty makeup. You forgot the slutty makeup.”
“I don’t wear makeup.”
He stopped, craned his head to look at her. “But you’d do all the rest? I like you, Karyn.” He hesitated. “What’s your maiden name?”
“Allison.”
“That’s a first name.”
“It’s a last name too.”
“Karyn Allison,” he said under his breath, resuming his painting job. A moment later, he put the paint back on the tray and washed the brush in the cup of water. “Middl
e name?”
“Colette.”
“Karyn Colette Allison. That sounds like a doll on a shelf.”
“A naked doll at the moment.” She turned and raised her own brush, waving it through the air. “My turn.”
He didn’t move, waiting for her to come to him. And come she did, bearing a brush laden with red paint. While he grinned down at her, his hooded eyes revealing how much he was enjoying this impromptu painting party, she swiped red lines over his chest, stippled the paint over his pecs. She caught her tongue between her teeth and concentrated on her design, only lifting her head when he hissed out a breath.
Teasingly she flicked his nipple with her fingernail. “See, told you it was cold.”
