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She is speaking so slowly, I want to reach in and grab the words from her throat, but I know if I rush her, I’ll lose her. So I stand, fists clenched, in anticipation for her next words.
“Blake, you don’t need me to tell you that this is beautiful, because it is. But it is so much more than that. It’s alive. It’s real. It’s many, many things. But I’m embarrassed when I look at it. And before you say anything, it’s not because I’m naked. No, that’s not it. It’s because you’ve captured something inside me that no one else has ever seen, and you've managed to paint that. My vulnerability. My fears. My...innocence.”
Now I’m the one with tears in my eyes, because she’s put into words what I could not express.
“I can’t let you show this to anyone,” she says.
I almost don’t believe what I’m hearing. “What? Why? You’ve just told me in so many words this is my masterpiece. Why would I not want others to see it?”
“Blake, please, I’m begging you. I can’t be on display like this. It’s too personal and I do not want anyone but you to see me this way.”
Chapter 20
Katherine
“You’ve gotta be kidding,” Blake tells me, his words filled with frustration.
I cannot deny it, the painting, even unfinished is amazing.
The detail sends shivers down my spine. My nipples, I’ve never really studied my nipples as closely as Blake obviously has.
I’m not sure if it is just me but the longer I look at myself, images of our sexual escapades flash through my mind. Will other people see the sex we’ve had?
I can almost see Blake caressing gently between my legs, his tongue on my clit and hands on my breasts.
Sexual desire oozes from the canvass.
“It’s just too personal,” I turn to Blake who is casually leaning on his workbench, his piercing gaze set on me.
He tilts his head to the left.
“Nudes are personal.” Blake says. I see the glint in his eyes and I feel naked even though I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt.
‘You know what I mean.’ I roll my eyes.
I walk to the canvass and point to my neck.
“See the way you’ve darkened my skin there ever so slightly?”
Blake pretends to squint and study the spot I’m pointing to.
“And?” He looks so innocent, like he truly has no idea what I’m talking about.
“Well,” I try and work out how to explain this so he understands where I’m coming from. “It’s really personal. A private thing. Only someone who gets really close to me would notice the subtle change in my skin.”
I fold my arms.
“What can I say, Kat: you inspire me. You bring out the artist in me. This is you. I’m just the painter.”
I sigh.
“No.” I shake my head. “It’s so much more than this.”
Should I go out on a limb and tell him all? The painting reveals so much about me, about who I really am, but at the same time…
“It looks like we have had sex. It looks like the artist, you, wants to jump my bones.”
Blake laughs.
