A Favor (11 page)

The deal I made with Taylor comes back to me and I’m biting my lip, Sam is not going to like it when he finds out about it. Rubbing my eyes I push back the thought, I can only take it one day at a time, what if Sam gets bored before it even comes to that? I can’t even go to that thought, it’s painful. If he’s still here when it came to that time, we’d deal with it then. That thought dealt with I run to get dressed.

With the hopes of a long day of nothing but sleeping and sex I find a long skirt, loose and in pinks and purples and match it with a loose pink top that slides off the shoulder.

I’m in the laundry room removing the clothes from the washing machine to the dryer when Sam finds me. I don’t hear him until he’s almost on me and then he’s backing me up against the dryer for a long kiss. In a daze we both pull away and I know what he’s thinking before he says it and shake my head.

“Two minutes and we’ll go back to bed, two minutes.”

He nods and backs away and I load his shirts into the washer, the other load had been his jeans and cargo pants and underwear. “What are you doing? Are those my clothes? Why the hell are doing my clothes?”

I set the dryer and lead the way to the bedroom, “Because you’re a guy and didn’t do it yourself. Sam, you shouldn’t wear clothes off the rack, they put chemicals on them and sometimes they sit in dusty warehouses for ages. It isn’t a big deal.” I bend over the bed and push out my ass towards him. “I’m not wearing panties, you’ll find that out when you lift up my skirt.” I hear him tear open a condom packet and sigh with regret, I do so love the feel of him. Seconds later he pushes into me and I’m so wet he’s home in an instant.

We both groan and he starts slow, too slow for me. His hands pull off my top and his hands toy with my breasts, teasing and light and then tweaking and punishing. I plead for more and he quickens, he can feel my orgasm building and his hands move to my hips holding me in place for his pounding thrusts. Harder, I beg and he gives me what I need and I break apart under him, my whole body shaking and he’s right there with me. I fall onto the bed and crawl over, to give him room.

The water turns on in the shower and I allow my eyes to drift close. He’s back sooner than I expect. He slides into bed and pulls me into his arms and falls asleep quickly and although I’m not tired I drift to sleep with him.

I wake up and spot the clock, I’ve been asleep a little over an hour, his clothes should be done. Getting out of his arms isn’t easy, I don’t want to wake him up but every time I inch away he pulls me close. For a long minute I consider laying there with him until he wakes up but he needs a lot more sleep and the idea of the clothes sitting and waiting are making me crazy. Slowly I roll out of his arms and make it to the edge of the bed. His big hands are on my waist.

“Where are you going?” He mumbles and something in me twists, he’s obviously exhausted.

“I’ll be right back, sleep and when you wake up I’ll be right here.”

With a yawn he pulls the pillow I was on close to him and falls back to sleep.

I’m in a fog as I hang his pants and put his shirts in the dryer. I know I’ve done a day like this in the past with Charles and Troy, weekend sleepy sex in between chores and errands but today, now, feels different. The edges of the day sharper, more vivid, but yet sweetly lazy as if it was the first time. It’s a little scary and I’m trying to figure out what’s so different about this day. After a few minutes I can’t put my finger on it and my head is beginning to ache from trying. I give up, what does it matter why it’s different, it just is and I know it’s not bad, it’s just different so I shrug and tell myself to not worry about it.

At the open door into what is now our room I watch Sam sleep for a moment. I want to crawl back into bed but I had just used all my laundry detergent and it reminded me of all the shopping I need to do. At the kitchen table I make a list and then I go to the refrigerator and look through the things Sam had bought and make a note of them to buy more.

In the garage I’m about to hit the button but stop, my room is right near the garage and it’s loud when the garage door opens, loud enough to wake Sam. I look out the front window and see Sam has blocked me in anyway. Just for that I’m using his truck. His keys are on the kitchen counter next to mine and I head out the front door.

I hate shopping any kind of shopping but the grocery can be the worst. I hate it even more on the weekends when it’s all crowded and chaotic and I never remember to bring the stupid reusable bags and always have to shell out for the damn bags from the store. Usually, I run my errands after work when it’s less busy but this week I had been rushing home to be with Sam. As I unload the truck for the second time I’m huffing and cranky, it’s so humid today.

Putting the groceries away isn’t as quick as it normally is and I hope none of it goes to waste. I hate cooking or rather as Sam had said cooking for one just didn’t seem worth it. My meals were usually bought at work and brought home to heat and eat or frozen from the store. Sam had purchased a large amount of fresh fruit and vegetables and now most of them were almost gone. I had done my best to replace them, along with other items that were only partially used.

The buzzer goes off on the clothes and I’m surprised, the trip had taken almost an hour, I had thought they would be done by now. Yet, as I go through the shirts they are nicely toasted and dry without being overdone. Then again it’s a high efficiency set, clothes were never overdone. Usually, I had to override the setting to get everything dry completely. Now that everything is done I take two trips and hang them up in the free space I had created for his things and they fit, a bit snug but it all fits.

Sam shifts but he’s still asleep, he looks so peaceful I’m envious. After the chaos of the store and the humid heat of the day the idea of simply laying in his arms is too appealing to pass up. So even though I had downloaded a book I really wanted to read this afternoon while standing in line at the store, I undress and settle back into bed and onto Sam. Laying my head on his chest, I can hear the steady beat of his heart and the sound lulls me back into sleep.

I’m not so deeply asleep that I don’t notice when Sam moves from me but I’m not sure what it means until the moment I feel hot breath against me, then just a second later I feel his lips pressing into the mound of me and his name comes out as a sigh. Instantly, I’m awake and I look down and he smiles up at me with a wicked grin.

“Did I wake you?” His question is light and I laugh.

My hands go into his hair and I press him back down, “Yes, but you can make it up to me.”

A finger trails along the seam of me and then opens me for his tongue and for a long minute I can’t breathe. His tongue is reaching deep into the heart of me and I’m mindless, lost in the feel of what he does to me. He is lingering, his tongue gentle as he brings me to the edge and then he is there, sliding into me with one fierce stroke and now he isn’t lingering. His thrusts are demanding and my orgasm hits me so fast I scream from the shock of it. Sam’s mouth is on mine and his kiss is soothing as he continues to move inside me and then he groans into my mouth as he comes inside me.

He only allows a few minutes of laying on me before he rolls off and his chest is heaving to take in air. I’m still dazed but I don’t want to be away from him and roll close to him. His arm is around me and pulls me close. Groaning he sits up, “I need a shower. Be right back.”

I nod and my eyes slide back down. I’m dozing when Sam comes out of the bathroom and pulls off the sheet.

“Up, sweetheart, we need to get going or we’re going to be late.”

My mind doesn’t take it all in, just him nearly naked with the towel around his hips is distracting. “What?”

Sam laughs and pulls me to the edge of the bed. “We have to be in Fredericksburg by two this afternoon.”

“Why are we going to Fredericksburg?”

“To meet with that gallery owner, he can see you today at two. We’re cutting it close but it will work. It will take awhile to prep the paintings for moving. Come on, he said to bring six. I have the stuff to wrap them up in my truck.” He pulls on a pair of underwear from the standing drawer, where both of our underwear is sharing space. From the closet he pulls out a black polo shirt and jeans. “Come help me pick them out. I’ll wrap them up and you can get ready.”

I sit up but I don’t follow him. I’m still sitting there where he left me when he comes back. His hands come around my arms and he pulls me up off the bed and against him, where I all but sag against him. “Zoe, being late for something like a job interview is a bad idea. And from what I’ve read, prepping paintings for a move isn’t easy. Hey, what’s the matter?”

I try to burrow into him but he won’t allow it. His hands on my arms pull me away from him so he can see me.

“Zoe, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“What if, what if they aren’t good enough?” It’s a whisper of sound from my tight throat.

“Hey, look at me.” His finger slips below my chin and brings my eyes up to his. “I’m not an art fan and I don’t know a Van Gogh from a Picasso but I know what I like and I like what you’ve done. I’m not saying it to make you feel better or because I love what we do together and I’m worried you’ll stop if I say I don’t like them, I like them. They are beautiful, they have a movement to them a person wouldn’t expect, they’re soft and calming. Kind of like you. If he doesn’t like them, someone else will. If someone can like a fucking can of soup, someone will like what you’ve done. It might take time but you’ll find the people that do.”

It hits me now what most appeals about and kind of scares me about Sam. His eyes tell me everything that is going on inside him and he’s always looking into my eyes, unflinching, not hiding. He isn’t lying to soothe me and telling me what he thought I want to hear.

“Okay.”

His kiss steals my breath, his tongue sweeps in, commanding, demanding and the taste of me on his tongue is intoxicating, Sam is intoxicating. When at last he frees me, my arms are around his neck, and he smiles as he pulls them down. “Let’s do this, baby.”

I nod my agreement and move to throw on a shirt.

It takes almost an hour to pick out and wrap the canvases for transport. Of the fourteen finished Sam picks his three favorites and I pick three. Sam begins to take them out to the truck and I run for an extremely quick shower and to do my hair and change out of the shirt I had thrown on. After a few minutes of indecision I pick a black maxi dress, sleeveless with straps. I pick out a long turquoise necklace and make sure I have my gloss for when we are close to the gallery.

I’m coming out of our room as Sam comes in from outside.

“Why did you put your hair up in a bun? I don’t like it, take it down.”

“It looks more professional. I’m not taking it down.” It had taken forever to smooth it and put it into a tight bun.

Sam stalks me and dear lord, am I some kind of freak to be turned on at the leashed power in his body as he pulls me close, his hands holding my head in place and his mouth comes down on mine. It’s pure domination, my mouth is his, my body is his to do with as he pleases and he pleases me so very much. Then his hand is in my hair and the covered elastic holding up my bun is gone and my long hair tumbles down around us. Only then does he let me go, his eyes running over me with satisfaction.

“The black is bad enough, with your hair up you look like you’re going to a funeral. I don’t like your body on show but the black works, your cock aching curves are outlined just enough to please without grabbing attention.

Let’s go, or we’ll be late. We still have to stop and grab something to eat for the road. I’m starving.”

We make it into the small town with about twenty minutes to spare. Sam’s navigation system directs him to the gallery and he pulls into the back and we are right on time. Sam urges me into the gallery, he would bring the paintings in.

The gallery owner is an older white haired man with the jeans and checked shirt appearance of a cowboy in from the range but the diction of an English aristocrat. He’s thin and his handshake firm. He invites us to call him Dale and walks us into a large open area for storage where he had set up six easels. Sam is carrying a painting in each hand and promises to be in with the others. Dale is careful as he cuts away the bubble wrap that had cushioned the paintings on top of each other and below the bubble wrap is plain brown paper that protected the paint.

I can only watch, my nerves tightening as Dale studies each painting and set them on the easel. When all are set up in place, he flicks a switch and a bright light shines down from above in a line. Throughout the whole process the man said nothing. Sam pulls me tight against him and I lean into his warmth.

“I can see your progression, these two, they are the earlier ones. Yes?”

I nod.

“Hmm, I thought so. You showed promise here but you appear to work better with oils than acrylics, it looks like you figured that out and it appears you are coming into your own, here and here.” Waiving a hand at my last two paintings he seems the slightest bit smug. “I’ll take four. I’ll put them up and we’ll see how you do, we’ll give them a four week rotation. Twelve hundred each piece, standard gallery commission of fifty percent. If they sell, I’ll want to see more. If they don’t sell, well, we’ll go from there. Those, two, the one in browns and yellows and the bluebonnets can go.”

Sam squeezes my waist as I sag against him in relief.

“It was nice meeting with you finally, my dear. Now, I must be on my way. I’ll have Harold come back and help you wrap the ones you’re taking back.”

Dale went through a wide doorway and I can hear him yelling for Harold. I don’t hold back as I hug Sam tight, of the four paintings the three he had picked were among them.

“Thank you, so much.”

“Hey, no thanks for me, you were the one that painted them. I told you they were good. Go have a seat in the truck, you like you’re about fall down. I’ll get these wrapped up and back in the truck.”