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Feeling the cool air between my legs I open my eyes and scramble on to my elbows lifting the top half of my body up to look at him, he’s hovering over me and smiling wide. Bastard. “What are you smiling about?” I pant and frown at him as he chuckles knowingly as he did exactly what he said he’d do.
My eyes close to him again as he answers my question. “I enjoyed my second breakfast. I’m rather full now.” My head hangs back on my shoulders as I get my breath, shaking my head at his blatant remark. I open them back up just in time to see him crawling over me to kiss me. I move to sit up, but he stops me. Instead, I prop myself up on my elbows to meet his lips as he leans down.
“That, my angel, will teach you to mess with me.”He grabs my hands and pulls me to sit up.
Pushing to the edge of the island, I wave him off as I push my feet to the floor.“Fuck off!”
“I think I prefer the way you screamed it at me.” Laughing loudly, he yanks me against his chest, winding his arms around me and rests his chin on top of my head. “You are fucking perfect. You know that right?”
Enjoying his warmth and the playful mood he’s in today, I draw him closer, wrap my arms around him and hug him. Who would have ever thought Troy Parker, businessman extraordinaire, would be playful.
“I need to go to the bathroom.” I sigh, not wanting to release him.
He smacks my bare arse and pulls back slightly. “Go on then, I’ll tidy the kitchen up.”
By the time I come back after cleaning myself up, it’s clean and there is a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the table waiting for me. Troy is dressed in shorts, Nike trainers and a t-shirt. I smile at him as he scrolls through his phone, doing something people do every day. I’ve been so set on seeing him as this successful, untouchable businessman, I forgot that he’s only human. That is until he gives me an orgasm, and I swear then he’s unstoppable. While I was upstairs, I went into my old art room and found the apron I used to wear when I painted and threw it over my t-shirt.
“I think I’m going to paint for a bit.” I tell Troy as I lean my shoulder against the door.
He looks up and lifts his eyebrows. “I wasn’t sure you still did?”
“I haven’t for a while now. Not for about a year, I've been too busy getting the gallery off the ground.” A feeling of regret hits me. Painting is the one thing I do to wind down, de-stress and like everything, it gets lost in everyday chores and I end up not having enough time to get around to it.
“Okay,” he nods but his gaze stays trained on me. “I need to answer some emails and then I’m going for a run.” He gets up from his chair, picks up my cup and comes over to me, holding it out for me. I take it from him with a returned smile, he closes his hands around my face and dips his head, kissing me so softly it makes my insides melt. “Enjoy your painting.” He whispers, rubbing his nose against mine.
“Enjoy your workout.” I add as my hand finds his hard stomach, and with a satisfied smile I wink.
“I did enjoy my workout this morning, but this is just a run to release some tension.” His eyes flash with desire and he kisses me way too quickly. “Unless you want to help with that tension?”
“I think I’m putting you on rations, you’re way too greedy, Mr Parker.” Turning around with my coffee in hand I strut away putting a little sway in my hips.
“Only with you, Ms Lancaster.” He retorts after me. That makes my little traitorous heart happy and with a smile plastered on my face, I climb the stairs again and go into my art room, closing the door behind me.
Placing my coffee down, I move my easel in front of the window so I can see outside. This house is surrounded by woodland and greenery, some of the best and most beautiful scenery in England, a perfect setting for an artist.
Setting up my paints and my stool just in front of the stand, I look around at my surroundings. I feel like I’ve gone back in time. Nothing has changed, apart from me. I’m older, a little wiser, well, that’s to be determined with what I’m doing with Troy right now. Although, apart from screaming for more, my vagina is pretty happy with our situation. It was starting to think it would never get any action again. All I’ve done the last couple of years is either have some self-play, or stumble upon a one-night stand, which have been mediocre to say the least. Maybe that’s because I still yearned for Troy - why I would yearn for a man that had sex with me and walked away and blatantly ignored me, I don’t fucking know, it’s like he was waiting for me to turn eighteen so he could say he got me out of his system – but clearly not. I’m just speculating really. I like to think I have all my ducks in a row, and I know what I’m doing but really, my ducks have wandered off and have left me feeling a little lost. I guess it’s how the saying goes, ‘everything happens for a reason’, fate and all that bullshit. I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to get the real story behind that. I mean it’s all well and good blinding me with great sex, no great isn’t a good enough word; absolutely fantastic, mind-blowing sex is probably better, but we can’t live off that forever. One day it just won’t be enough, or will it?
Do I want the truth?
Do I want to throw a spanner in the works when everything I’ve ever wanted is working in my favour? They say ignorance is bliss, but is it really?
Exhaling a long and heavy sigh, I realise that sitting here and pondering on everything isn’t de-stressing me either, so clearing my mind of all things Troy Parker, I pick up my brush, dip it in the colour I want then swish it across the page, glancing through the large window to look at the still before recreating my vision.
A light knock on the door to my room stops me briefly. Leaning back, I look at my masterpiece for a second. “Come in.” I call out. As I stare at it, I feel like Mary Poppins when she stepped into the picture on the pavement with Bert. I can feel the serenity it brought her when she was surrounded by everything she loved.
“That’s amazing.” His hands land on my shoulders massaging them, his fingers digging into the very spot where I’m stiff from painting for the last… I look at my watch and I’m shocked when I see I’ve been in here for three hours now.
“Thank you.” Tilting my head back, I rest it on his abdomen as I look up, our eyes meeting with a smile.
“You've been gone so long, I thought you’d gone out or fallen asleep.” He says leaning down and pressing his lips to my brow.
“Do you not remember how I used to lock myself away for hours on end?” I ask him, lifting my brow in question.
“Now you mention it, I do.” He spins me around on the stool and squats down resting his arms on my knees. “I thought you were just hiding though.”
“Most of the time I was.” I admit sadly. “Mainly from Dad and his moods and some of the time from you, but the remainder of the time it was because painting made me escape into my own little world. No one could hurt me there, or shout at me and tell me that my dreams were worthless.”
Glancing away, he drops his gaze to the floor like he’s apologising for everything but not actually saying the useless words because he can’t change anything. He sighs and lifts his head. “Why don’t I take you out. I know a really nice restaurant…” His lips quirk, “you can get dressed up. What you think?”
