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“Not nearly as much as I love you, Stella.” I press a kiss to her head. “Thank you for putting up with me and not leaving me. I’d be lost without you.”
“I’m not leaving yet,” she teases.
Tickling her side, I say, “Oh, is that right?”
“Yeah, I mean, you did stand me up at the coffee shop this past week before yesterday.”
“Babe, you know that wasn’t by choice. Thomas has been riding my ass.”
“I know. I just like it better when you ride my ass,” she pouts. She’s so fucking adorable. “So, are you going to let me see your drawings?”
“Stella…” I groan.
“What? You’re the one who brought this on yourself. I didn’t even know you drew anymore. I hadn’t seen you pick up a pencil and draw since practically before we were married.”
“I do it in private,” I tell her and suddenly feel embarrassed confessing that to her.
“What else do you do in private?” she asks, wagging her brows up and down.
Putting my hand over her eyes, I say, “Stop it with that!”
“I let you draw me in the nude. In the fucking nude, babe!” she says, getting up on her knees and pressing her boobs together, moving them around and up and down, making me laugh.
“Fine! Shit, I forgot how immature you could be. You played your role as a mature adult well.”
“That, my sweet Nolan, is rude.” She drops her hands and then walks her fingers over to my semi-hard dick. “Show me, and maybe I’ll give you a blowie.”
“Pfft! You’ll give me a blowie either way.”
“That’s awfully cocky of you.”
“I’ll show you cocky…” I say, moving to straddle her middle. I pause though, looking down at her, at the smile on her face. “You are the most beautiful creature on this earth, Stella Ray.” Her eyes soften and fill with tears. “That is why I wanted to draw you. You are what I draw in private too.”
Getting off the bed, I walk to my bag and pull out my sketch pad, tossing it on the bed next to her. She looks at me in question to make sure I’m okay with her looking. I smile and nod at her. “I’m going to shower.” I kiss her on the head. “Take your time.”
Stepping in the shower, I let the hot water beat on my tired muscles. I’m not as young as I used to be, and long sex sessions aren’t the norm as much these days. I’ll be feeling all of this in an old-man way tomorrow. Just like I did last month. But it’s all worth it. Nothing a little Tiger Balm can’t help.
I feel her small hands on my hips before I hear her. She wraps her arms around my middle, her front to my back, and kisses my wet skin.
“Those were the best love letters you could have ever written to me. Nolan, those are beautiful.”
Not turning to look at her yet, I put my hands over hers. “I had a beautiful model.”
“No, Nolan. It wasn’t me that made those so amazing. It’s your talent. And more than that, it’s that I can see all of your feelings poured out on those pages. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen you draw before. How long have you been doing this?”
“A while,” I mumble.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I turn then to look at her. She just asked the million-dollar question, and I still don’t have an answer really.
“I honestly don’t know. I guess part of me was embarrassed. You know my dad always mocked me for liking art and wanting to draw. He always wanted me to ask for footballs and jerseys growing up, not drawing pencils and sketch pads. I figured you’d want that too.” I shrug.
“Nolan, no. I’ve never thought or felt that way at all. I always loved that you were this sexy, broody artist when I met you. It’s part of what made me fall in love with you. Besides, that was years ago.”
“Really?” I ask, surprised, though I guess I shouldn’t be. She always did support my hobby.
“I can’t believe this shocks you so much. Yes! I loved it then, and I love it even more now.”
