AllFreeNovel
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“Are you sure you don’t want to take the lead?”
Fucking hell.
If I were taking the lead, she’d be in my lap, her delicious ass bouncing against my thighs. Then she’d be on the table, letting me taste her.
I clear my throat, trying to adjust myself in my trousers. “No, please, go ahead.”
She grabs a brush from a glass jar, tracing her fingers over the bristles. With a sharp, metallic pop, she lifts the lid from a paint can, revealing the gooey paint within. “What do you think of this one?”
“Red?”
“It’s crimson,” she clarifies.
“It’s great.” I run my hand along the cool metal tubs. “Whatever you want is great.”
Molly gets quiet, staring down at the paints. Then she rolls her shoulders back and flashes me a smile.
“You know what?” she says, and her entire demeanor shifts. “You’re right. It’s our last night here. I want to make a mess.”
“Me too.”
Molly gathers the colors like they’re speaking to her.
A carnal hunger fills my veins. She’s a work of art, every curve and contour perfectly sculpted. She bends over slowly, and her dress lifts. I should look away, but I can’t help myself. Her lace panties stretch tight across her skin, outlining the lush curve of her ass.
The need to lay her on this table and hear her moan my name again is overwhelming. Or scream it. Growl it. Anything.
I’m a wild animal, imagining all the ways I want to touch and taste her.
Take her. Possess her.
“I’d like these.” Molly opens her arms over the tubs of paint she’s arranged, showing off a rainbow of saturated pinks, purples, reds, oranges, and yellows. “They’ll look like the sky here, and I’d love to remember it.”
“Great idea.” I grab two cans and make my way to the canvas I set up. Molly follows me, a tub of paint in one arm as she drags a chair with the other. “Hey, hey.” I rush to seize the chair and paint cans from her. “Don’t you worry about a single thing. Let me take care of this.”
“Thank you.” She runs her hand across her forehead. We settle the tubs on the ground and open them. Molly passes me a brush. “What now?”
“Let’s jump off the deep end together.” I dip a brush into the vat of purple. “Here.” We share the brush, our fingers locked around the handle. Globs of color drop onto the floor. My free palm rests on the curve of her lower back.
As her brows lift, she gives me a sweet, innocent look that’s hard to resist. “We’re doing this? Just going for it?”
“Count us down, darling.”
She nods. “One, two, three.” We lift our arms and flick our wrists, sending a spray of color across the canvas. “Okay, so fun.”
An orchestra of giggles, breaths, and snorts pours out of her. My chest warms.
Over the years, I’ve become an expert in making her laugh, even during casual office conversations that seemed insignificant. It’s a gift I haven’t fully appreciated until this moment.
She hands me a brush drenched in red paint.
“Ready?” Her pupils widen.
For the next hour, our movements synchronize as we toss paint onto the canvas, watching colors blend and mix, creating new shades and patterns. Paint stains our skin, Molly’s dress, and my pants.
It’s beautiful, the picture we’re creating together. I’ll have to ask Lolita to ship it to me when it’s dry. I want to hang it in my house, above the mantel of my fireplace. Or maybe I can give it to Molly as a parting gift after we split her trust. The thought dims my mood slightly.
Suddenly, Molly grabs one of the half-empty vats, cradling it in her arms.
