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My entire frame sags as he peels my arms away and lets them fall to my sides. Stepping around the stool, he parts my legs and positions himself between them. With a finger under my chin, he tips my head back and presses his lips to mine. The kiss starts off slow and gentle with light pecks. But with each kiss, it grows more intense. Impassioned and hungry.
We roam each other’s bodies with our hands. A moan spilling from my lips as a growl builds in his chest.
Something slick coats my skin when he palms my breast. I tear my lips away and look down. A hand-sized streak of magenta paint smears my skin. Adds a pop of contrast to my pale, bare flesh. And that is when it clicks.
“Can I paint you?”
Did Devlyn mean he wanted to put paint on my actual body? Not paint my likeness on canvas? By the questioning look in his glass-green eyes right now, I would say yes.
Off to the right, I stare at the tray of paints squeezed out. Dipping two fingers in the dark green, I swirl the paint onto my skin. Then I bring them to Devlyn’s chest, look him square in the eyes, and streak his skin with the pigment.
Hunger and need darken Devlyn’s green irises. Before I make a joke about him asking for it, he strips off his sweats. Kicks them aside. Grabs the paint tray from the table then wraps an arm around my waist and sits us both on the floor.
Time evades us with each laugh, moan and fondle as we paint each other. Our paint-coated fingers roam and clutch and bruise. Our mouths crash together while our lips and tongues taste. After the majority of our bodies are paint slicked, Devlyn pulls a condom from the pocket of his sweats, rolls it on, and eases his thick erection between my legs. I fist his hair as he clutches the nape of my neck. My legs wrap around his waist as his hips rock at a steady, delicious tempo. The paint on our skin swirls in a kaleidoscope of colors and it isn’t long before my orgasm vibrates every nerve ending in my body. Then Devlyn is right behind me, jaw slack and body trembling in ecstasy.
Minutes pass and we don’t move. Our breaths calm as Devlyn props himself up on his forearms, then kisses me deeply.
“Thank you for christening my studio. Work will never be dull again.”
I slap his arm and laugh. “Painting me will never be dull.”
The same hunger from earlier ignites his eyes. “If by painting you, you mean this”—he glances between our bodies—“damn right. Given the chance, I’d paint you every day.”
Heat crawls up my neck to my cheeks, but the paint disguises most of it. “I’d like you to paint me every day. But only if I get to do the same.”
Devlyn drops his lips to mine as his hips start to rock. I am about to mention something about the condom needing to be replaced when I hear a noise from downstairs.
Breaking the kiss, I ask, “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” He kisses my stained skin.
“Devlyn?” a woman calls from downstairs. “You home?”
Above me, Devlyn freezes and goes wide eyed. “Shit.” His eyes slam shut. “Shit, shit, shit.”
A new dose of panic floods my veins. “What’s wrong? Who is that?”
“Devlyn? Are you upstairs?” The woman sounds closer than she did a moment ago.
Devlyn pulls out quickly and I wince. “Sorry.” He fumbles for his sweats, my shirt, and panties. “Here.” He hands me the garments with a pained look. “Give me a minute, Mother,” he shouts. “I’ll be right down.”
Oh. My. God. Oh my god!
Devlyn’s mom is here. Downstairs. Right now. There is no possible way for either of us to skirt past her without her seeing us. And with the paint covering both our bodies, literally, it won’t be difficult to surmise what we were doing.
Kill. Me. Now.
He removes the condom, tosses it in the trash, then steps into his sweats. I slip the shirt over my head and pull on my panties. As I straighten, he steps into me, frames my face with his hands, and presses a gentle kiss to my lips.
“Wait here a minute. I’ll see if I can get her to leave.”
I tuck my lips between my teeth and nod. “’Kay.”
“Be right back.”
Devlyn dashes down the stairs, paint smeared over ninety percent of his body, and greets his mother. I move closer to the landing and try to listen in on their conversation without being seen.
“What in the world, Devlyn?” Her tone blade sharp. “Why are you covered in paint?”
