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Katherine gives me a concerned look. “Hello, have we not met? Let me introduce myself, I’m Katherine. I’m a writer. Not a model.”
“Look at this,” I say pointing to my sketch of her, “I did that from memory, and we both know it’s damn good. But it’s just a start.” I run my fingers through my hair.
“How can I put this? You’re a writer, and I’m sure you’ve written dozens and dozens of outlines, but those outlines aren’t a completed manuscript. Well, this drawing isn’t a painting. It’s just an outline and I want – no…Ineedto bring it to life. Please, you've got to sit for me while I paint you.”
Chapter 15
Katherine
My lips mechanically move to the mug, and my brain only kicks in when the liquid touches my lips. I cringe. I hate lukewarm or cold coffee, but it’s the only thing within reach.
I feel his eyes on me. They caress my face, my lips, hover at my v-neck tight fitting blouse and keep going. It’s as if he is slowly undressing me from head to toe.
Not now, I tell myself, but lust is creeping through me like weeds creep through the garden. How can he do this to me?
Part of me wants to rip my own clothes off before doing the same to him. But we can’t be having sex all the time, can we?
“You don’t like it?”
Was that worry in his voice?
I smile. “Don’t be silly. I love it.”
Words, I’m an expert with words, and here I’m struggling to come up with the right ones. Maybe I should write to him.
The idea is so silly I laugh.
I catch his eyes and see he is not sure what to make of my reaction.
I put my coffee down and walk over to him. A dangerous move, I know, but I feel like reassuring him the only way I really know how.
When my lips move off his, his hands stay on my hips.
“I know I’m a writer and words should come easy to me,” I hesitate. “I just don’t know what to say.”
Something moves across his face. Hurt? Anger? Disappointment? I’m not sure.
“The way you have captured me on paper,” another hesitation as the genius in me gropes for something to say to make him feel how I feel when I look at the artwork, “No one, and I mean no one has ever looked at me like this.”
I take the picture and move away from him. It takes great effort to resist his physical charm, but I must let him know how I feel about his work before things get out of hand.
“Look at the tiniest of a hint of a dimple in my right cheek. Only someone who had looked at me really closely would be able to reproduce it.” I continue to stare at myself on the paper. For some reason, tears well up and I quickly bite my bottom lip.
Tears are the last thing Blake will want to see.
I feel him beside me again and I glance at him.
“I think I almost look beautiful the way you have captured me.” I pause again. “I look serene. You’re an amazing artist.”
My emotions tell me to stop talking and get on with kissing him and ripping his clothes off so my hands can get creative with his body.
His left hand reaches under my chin and lifts my head, so I have to look at him. His touch is so gentle. A wave of desire engulfs me.
As I struggle with my emotions, he leans in toward me and kisses me ever so lightly on the tip of my nose.
“Did you see I even captured the lonely freckle on the right side of your nose?”
His hand is stopping me from turning my head. I have to take his word for it. I had not noticed it.
