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She sat back with a happy sigh and admired her handiwork. When she fi
rst started sculpting, a piece like that would have taken her five tries. It would have collapsed on itself or been lopsided. She would press too hard and her thumb would puncture the side. Now, a perfect piece could be created in minutes. She wished everything in her life was that easy.
“I’ve never gotten to watch you work before.”
Julianne leapt at the sound of Heath’s voice. She turned around in her rolling chair, her heart pounding a thousand beats a minute in her chest. She brought a hand to her throat, stopping just short of coating herself in wet clay. “You shouldn’t sneak up on a girl like that.”
He smiled sheepishly from the doorway. “Sorry. At least I waited until you were done.”
Heath was leaning against the door frame in an old NYU T-shirt and a pair of flannel plaid boxer shorts, and for that, she was thankful. She would lose her resolve to resist him if he came down in nothing but a pair of pajama pants. As it was, the lean muscles of his legs were pulling her gaze down the length of his body.
“Did I wake you?” she asked.
“I don’t recall hearing you get up, but I woke up for some reason and realized I forgot to plug my phone into the charger. I left it in the kitchen accidentally.” He took a few steps into the workshop. “I can’t believe how quickly you did that. You’re amazing.”
Julianne stood up from her stool and took her metal spatula out of the drawer beside her. Uncomfortable with his praise, she lifted the metal plate and moved the wet vase over onto the shelf to dry. “It’s nothing.”
“Don’t be modest,” he argued. “You’re very talented.”
Julianne started the wheel spinning again and turned away to hide her blush. “Would you like to learn to make something?”
“Really?”
“Sure. Come here,” she said. She eyed his large frame for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to do this. “Since I’m so short, it’s probably easiest if you stand behind me and reach over. I can guide your hands better that way.”
Heath rolled the stool out of the way and moved to her back. “Like this?”
“Yes.” She glanced back at the position she had deliberately put them in and realized how stupid it was. Perhaps she would be smarter to talk him out of this. “You’re going to get dirty. Is that okay?”
He chuckled softly at her ear, making a sizzle of awareness run along the sensitive line of her neck. “Oh, no, I’d better change. These are my good flannel boxers.”
Julianne smiled at his sharp, sarcastic tone and turned back to the wheel. No getting out of this now. “Okay, first, dip your hands in the water. You have to keep them good and wet.”
They both dipped their hands in the bucket of water, then she cupped his hands over the clay and covered them with her own. “Feel the pressure I apply to you and match it with your fingers to the clay.”
They moved back and forth between the water and the clay. All the while, Julianne forced herself to focus on the vase and not the heat of Heath’s body at her back. The warm breath along her neck was so distracting. Her mind kept straying to how it would feel if he kissed her there. She wanted him to. And then she would realize their sculpture was starting to sag and she would return her attention to their project.
“This feels weird,” Heath laughed, gliding over the gray mound. The slippery form began to take shape, their fingers sliding around together, slick and smooth. “And a little dirty, frankly.”
“It does,” she admitted. On more than one occasion, she’d lost herself in the erotic slip and slide of the material in her hands and the rhythmic purr of the wheel. That experience was amplified by having him so close. “But try to control yourself,” she said with a nervous giggle to hide her own building arousal. “I don’t want you having dirty thoughts every time you see my artwork.”
Heath’s hands suddenly slipped out from beneath hers and glided up her bare arms to clutch her elbows. The cool slide of his clay-covered hands along her skin was in stark contrast to the firm press of heat at her back. It was obvious that she was not the only one turned on by the situation.
“Actually, the artwork isn’t what inspires me....”
A ragged breath escaped her lips, but she didn’t dare move. She continued working the vase on her own now, her shaky hands creating a subpar product. But she didn’t care. If she let go, she would touch Heath and she wasn’t sure she would be able to stop.
Easing back, Heath brushed her hair over the other shoulder and, as though he could read her mind, pressed a searing kiss just below her ear. She tipped her neck to the side, giving better access to his hungry mouth. He kissed, nibbled and teased, sending one bolt of pleasure after the other down her spine.
She arched her back, pressing the curve of her rear into the hard ridge of his desire. That elicited a growl that vibrated low against her throat. One hand moved to her waist, tugging her hips back even harder against him.
“Jules...” he whispered, sending a shudder of desire through her body and a wave of goose bumps across her bare flesh.
She finally abandoned the clay, letting it collapse on itself, and switched off the wheel before she covered his hands with her own. Their fingers slipped in and out between each other, his hands moving over her body. “Yes?” she panted.
“You said the waters would be just as warm tomorrow. It’s tomorrow,” he said, punctuating his point with a gentle bite at her earlobe.
That it was.
