His Work of Art (10 page)

This time, when he pulled her close, his hands drifted over her ass and squeezed. The material of the short dress bunched, and a draft hit her upper thighs, cooling the heat Adam created. His mouth left hers and he kissed her neck, her ears, across the top of her chest. His fingers traced the edges of the tattoo he'd drawn hours ago, and she wanted nothing more than for him to pull the top of her dress down and use his fingers all over the rest of her body.

He ran his hands down her arms until they met hers. Then he stepped away, tugging her with him. “Let's go to my room.”

He didn't wait for her to respond. He just continued to pull her through the crowd of people who were laughing and kissing and clinking plastic cups of beer. He plowed through the door to his room and stopped. “Shit.”

“What?” She peered around his shoulder and saw a mountain of coats and jackets piled on his bed.

“Why did people think this would be a good idea?”

She shrugged. “Hunter told me to bring my coat in here.”

“I'm gonna kill him.” He released her hand and scooped up an armful of coats. “Wait here.”

Reese watched him leave the room, but rather than listen to his directions, she, too, grabbed a stack and followed him. The quicker they got things moved, the faster they would be alone. And right now, her entire body screamed to be alone with Adam.

She struggled out into the short hallway with the coats and crashed into Adam. He must've run to another room to get back this quickly.

“I'll take these. Let Hunter deal with people getting their shit.” He spun and she realized he was dumping the coats on the bed in the room across the hall.

At least he was keeping it simple. She returned to the room to grab more, but Adam was on her heels. He hauled the remaining coats and simply said, “Sit. Relax. I'll be right back.”

Reese stood awkwardly, not quite sure what she should do. Get undressed? Fix her makeup and hair? Lie down on the bed? Before she could decide, the door thumped closed behind her and she heard the snick of the lock.

She inhaled deeply and turned to Adam.

He closed the distance and said, “Now, where were we?”

“I believe we were making a mistake,” she murmured as his lips came down on hers.

T
his was not the slow and patient, almost hesitant kiss they'd shared last week. This wasn't even the crush of lips in the living room minutes ago. This kiss was hot and hard and wet and fast. Their mouths clashed and their hands couldn't move quickly enough to touch each other.

Reese yanked at Adam's T-shirt while he kissed along her collarbone, tugging at the crisscross straps with his teeth. His hands were under her dress, drifting higher, and he obviously didn't want to waste time worrying about straps. Her fingers barely grazed his abdomen when his hand stroked her.

She gasped. He paused. She was set on fire with need for him. She fisted his T-shirt and pulled it over his head, which meant he had to release his grip on her. That was as far as she got, though, because he moved back in, pulling the top of her dress down to expose her boobs. The straps slid off her right shoulder and restricted the movement of that arm, but she didn't care because Adam's mouth was hot on her nipple.

He bit and sucked and soothed. All she could do was hold his head with her free hand. He shoved the hem of her dress up as he walked her back to the bed and pushed her down. She attempted to wiggle around to unzip and remove the dress, but Adam covered her body, kissing and touching her, and she could no longer think.

Adam moved down her body, caressing her as he went. He shoved her thighs wide and ran his fingers over the lace of her panties. She raised her hips, inviting him to take them off, but she heard a tear.

Her eyes bugged. “Did you just rip my underwear?”

He smirked.

“They were my favorite pair.”

“I'll buy you new ones.” He stroked his long fingers over her slowly. “I can't promise not to do that again, though.”

She never thought a guy ruining her panties would be sexy, but this definitely was.

Adam leaned forward and kissed her neck again. “God, you're so wet.”

“For you. You do this to me,” she whispered.

He answered with a groan. His thumb pressed against her clit and he slid two fingers into her. Her hips bucked up. She needed release. Tension coiled in her and her nerves were on edge. She wanted to hold this feeling, but she wanted to speed to the end and explode all at once.

Again he sucked on her nipples, flicking his tongue in rhythm to what his hand was doing. All she could do was hold his head close, wishing his hair was long enough to grip.

Her orgasm spiked and she came with a long moan. As Adam pulled back, she tried to reach up, but her arm was still trapped by the stupid straps. She never had this problem with a T-shirt.

She struggled to sit up. “Can you help me get this off now? I feel like I'm in a straitjacket.”

He chuckled and the low sound shot through her. While her hands fought to find the zipper in the back, she leaned forward and kissed him, sucking his lower lip into her mouth. She sank her teeth in just enough to stop his laughing. He hissed, but didn't pull away. His arms snaked behind her and unzipped the dress.

The bunched-up material eased away from her, and Adam pulled it free. She shimmied to get it off her body and she sat naked in front of him. He stared until she pointed at him. “It'd be nice if you took your clothes off too.”

She scooted back on the bed and watched as he undid his jeans and shoved them down. His boxer briefs were tight enough to outline his erection, which turned her on more. She hopped up on her knees and kissed his chest, trailing her wet mouth across his smooth skin. Like he had done to her, she flicked her tongue over his nipple as she slid her fingers inside his waistband.

His heart thumped against her lips as her fingers circled him and stroked. He was thick and hot. The thought of him being inside her set off another round of pulsing need. She ran her hand over the length of his smooth, taut skin. She'd made him as hard as he'd made her wet. She felt great satisfaction in that.

Adam pushed her gently back on the mattress and then leaned over to the nightstand. He put a condom on and crawled back over her body. Reese wrapped her legs around his hips and said, “Now, Adam.”

He grabbed himself and rubbed against her, sending jolts of pleasure every time he bumped her clit. She was closer than she thought, but she wanted more. When he finally pushed into her, she sighed with relief.

Adam buried his face in her neck with a groan. He didn't move, so she enjoyed having him pressed against her, feeling all of his skin gliding along hers.

He began to move, in slow, patient strokes, restraining himself. Reese dug her heels in his ass and pushed up. The movement was enough to spur him into action. His pace picked up and he braced his arms on the sides of her head. As much as she wanted to continue to look up at his face, fierce and tense with pleasure, her eyes fluttered closed in her own enjoyment.

Adam reared up and grabbed her ankle, pulling her leg high to rest on his shoulder. The change in angle along with his hard thrusts made her second orgasm greater than the first. Behind her closed eyes, she saw shooting stars brighter than the one she wore on her chest. Her muscles tensed and air locked in her lungs as she rode the wave of her inner muscles contracting and pulling at Adam.

With a hand gripping her hip and another still like a vise on her ankle, he drove into her. “Ah, fuck,” he murmured as his flesh slapped against hers. Then he groaned and held still again before releasing her leg and collapsing on her.

They both lay there, panting, and the sounds of the party began to filter back to Reese. She'd never had sex with a house full of people on the other side of a door. She giggled. “You left the party to have sex.”

Adam rolled off her. “So did you.”

“But it's your party. Aren't people going to look for you?”

He lifted a shoulder. “They haven't yet.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. She interlocked her fingers with his. They both stared at their joined hands. She loved the contrast he brought to her life.

“That dress should've come with a warning. Do not wear unless you want to be fucked senseless.”

She swallowed hard. The dress. They'd just had amazing sex, and all he mentioned was the dress. She swallowed again before trying to speak. “Well, it's Julie's dress. I'll be sure to tell her.”

His long fingers traced a pattern across her ribs. She imagined him drawing on her again.

“Maybe you should keep it.”

“In case you didn't notice, it's not really my style.” She kept her eyes closed and tilted her head away from him.

“It was definitely your style tonight.” He nuzzled closer to her, his breath fluttering at the fine hairs on her neck.

She should take the compliment for what it was. He thought she looked hot. At least for tonight. In a borrowed dress. It was what she'd wanted, for Adam to notice her, to act on the attraction she knew he felt. All it took was for her to dress like she was a different person.

Why exactly did she think that would be a good idea?

Because now she was lying in bed next to him, after having some great sex, and feeling like she wanted to cry. She blinked a few times to clear her eyes before sitting up. “I should get going.”

“You can't drive. You've had too much to drink.”

“I'll be fine.”

He sat up and held her wrist. “Spend the night. It'll be safer. You'll be sober, and so will all the other drivers on the road.” He lowered his head and stared into her eyes. “Please.”

The urge to cover herself burned through her under his careful scrutiny. “Can I borrow some different clothes? I don't want to sleep in the dress, and people are probably going to come looking for their coats. I'd prefer not to be seen naked.”

His eyebrows wrinkled together. “Sure.” He got off the bed and rummaged through his dresser. He tossed her a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt before pulling on a pair of shorts.

She dressed quickly and scooted back on the bed. “If you need to go check on your guests, I understand.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the closed door and then back at her.

She didn't wait for a response. She turned to her side and pulled the blanket over her. He made some noise behind her and then she heard the
click
of the door.

Adam had been right from the get-go. This was a mistake. She should've listened to him. They had a good thing going, and now she didn't know if she could go back.

The sun glaring through his window woke Adam the following morning. He shivered and reached across the bed, only to find it empty. Reese was gone. He had no idea what had gone wrong last night, but he knew something had. The sex had been good—great, even—so it wasn't that.

Something bothered Reese and he thought by giving her some space last night, she'd get over it and be okay. Instead, when he came back to the room after telling everyone where to find their coats, she was asleep. He reached for his phone and sent her a text.

He kept the phone in his hand and dozed while waiting for an answer. He was right yesterday and every other day when he looked at her and knew that sleeping with her would be a mistake. She embodied complication.

Although she hadn't said anything wrong, he felt like she was distant. He couldn't put his finger on why her texts bothered him or why they didn't quite sound like her, but he knew.

He tossed his covers off and climbed out of bed. Maybe he was reading too much into everything. Maybe she really was just busy today.

Last night didn't have to be some momentous thing between them. They'd both been drinking and things got out of hand. If she hadn't been wearing that damn dress, he never would've made a move.

Liar.
He remembered the sight of her in his sweats, rolled multiple times at the waist to stay up, and he'd wanted her all over again. He drove to the shop to help his mom with organizing the back room and clearing stuff out. Although the shop was open, it was never busy because of the holiday. It had become tradition for them to clean out the stockroom on New Year's Day. Plus, it got him out of the bulk of cleaning from the party.

He got to the shop and his mom already had boxes stacked behind the register. He started sorting through the random toys and back issues of comics. Every five minutes, he thought he felt his phone vibrate, so he pulled it out.

“Who are you waiting for?”

“Huh?”

“You've checked your phone at least ten times in as many minutes.”

He shrugged. “I thought Reese might call.”

She buried her face in another box, but he caught her smile. “So you like her?” she asked without looking up.

“We're friends.”

“I've never seen you check your phone that often for Free.”

He sighed. Of course she was right; she usually was.

“For what it's worth, I like her too.”

“We're friends and business partners. That's all.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” She pulled some action figures out and kicked the now empty box aside. “I was thinking maybe we should get some shelves over here just for the toys. I think these will sell if we have them out. What do you think?”

“Sounds good.” He was too preoccupied to consider toys. All he could think about was the repercussions of not keeping his dick in his pants last night. He hadn't wanted to hurt Reese, but he didn't even know what he'd done wrong.

He kept replaying the night in his head. He remembered telling her that it was a mistake, and she brushed it aside because they both wanted it. She knew the score. It looked like he'd have to have one of those stupid conversations where they needed to go back to being strictly in the friend zone. If she was able to do it with her ex-boyfriend, she should have no problem doing it with him. They hadn't dated and they only slept together once, while they were drunk.

Not really drunk.
It was sad that he was looking for excuses for his behavior.

He pulled out his phone and called Reese's number. Of course, it went to voice mail. She was dodging him.

“Hey, Reese. I just wanted to talk about last night, make sure things are really okay with us. We were both drinking, and like I said last night, we shouldn't have done that—not that it wasn't great. It was. I just don't want to complicate things. Let me know when you're free to work on the next story together. Call me.”