The Wright Brother (25 page)

Stomach fluttering thinking about what he must have looked like that night, like some avenging angel of death, she couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m glad he didn’t go there, but I’m happy he cared that much.”

Chastity was silent for a moment. “Hey, I’m really sorry you didn’t get a chance to show off for Amsler. I know how much you—”

Waving her hand, she twisted her lips. “It wasn’t meant to be. To be honest, Chastity, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be an Olympian—that’s so much stress. To be doing school, while competing at that level, I would have never had a life, much less any time for Julian. I think I mostly just wanted to do it to see if I was good enough, but not because it was a dream or anything.”

“Well, at least it looks like you’ll get to keep your scholarship. I know you were freaking out about that.”

Their bedroom door opened a crack and Julian stuck his head inside. “Need anything?”

She smiled, waving him to her. “Hey, Chas, I’m gonna go. I have a paper due tomorrow and about five pages left to write.”

Julian took a seat beside her, his fingers fluttered up and down her arm.

“Okay, bye,” Chastity chirped and hung up.

Dropping the phone, Elisa opened her arms. “I love you, Jules.”

His confused countenance turned into a bright smile as he let her pull his head to her breast.

At least there was still one good thing in her life, and for that she was grateful.

That year flew by in a rapid blur. Elisa could walk now without any problems. On occasion she’d experience a slight twinge in her ankle if she stepped down wrong, but Julian’s freshman year was now nearly behind them. They had two weeks left until summer vacation and now it was just a matter of trying to decide whether they wanted to go with Chastity and Luke to cabin on the lake they’d rented before going home or not.

Elisa wasn’t much of a cook, but thankfully Jules never seemed to mind that most nights it was salad. At least that was impossible to burn.

Their apartment door swung open and she glanced up with a smile, but Julian wasn’t smiling. He was glowering and tossed his book bag onto the door unceremoniously.

Setting down the head of lettuce, she dried her hands on a dishtowel and asked, “Hey, mister, what’s up?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked several times before he answered. “I’m going to fail my fucking art class, that’s what.” He sat on the couch, tossing his head back and staring at the ceiling with a hard, cold stare.

Shocked to hear him say that, she walked over and tapped him on the shoulder until he’d look at her.

“What do you mean you’re going to fail?”

“Final assignment of the year is clay in color.”

She frowned. Not that she knew a lot about art, sadly, but that didn’t seem so hard. “Jules, I don’t understand, that’s easy, just put a little color on it.”

He gave her a droll look.

Sighing, she arched her brow. “You know what I mean, just pick some colors, it shouldn’t matter if—”

“But it does matter. We’re supposed to approximate it as close to ancient Greek pottery as we’re able.”

She grimaced. “Babe, did you tell him about—”

“Of course.” He gestured angrily. “But he said if he makes an exception for one, he’d have to make an exception for all. This fucking assignment is worth thirty percent of our final grade.”

“What a dick!” She clenched her jaw. “This isn’t like you asked him for a damn extension.” Angry now for him, she frantically wracked her brain for ideas. “Report him. He can’t do this to you, there’s the handicap—”

A rumbling grunt tore from his throat. Julian did not consider himself handicapped, and in fact, neither did she. He was more able-bodied than even his brothers. Julian was brilliant in so many ways.

“Baby, I’m not calling you handicapped, please don’t misunderstand me, I’m just saying you have avenues.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how I’m going to do this, Smile Girl, but I’m going to do this and shove his stupid rules down his fucking throat.”

She smiled; she had no doubt he could. Then an idea came to her. One completely and totally so out there it would either be brilliant or stupid.

“What colors are predominant in Greek pottery?” she asked quickly, heartbeat racing as her stupid, brilliant idea grew.

“Reds. Browns. Blacks. Yellows. Umbers. Sometimes blues, why?”

Holding up a finger, she kissed his cheek. “Hold that thought.” Then, turning on her heel, she raced for his art room.

Feeling slightly dumb as she kicked off her clothes, she giggled softly to herself. This might or might not work, but at least he’d be happy by the end of it.

Every once in a while Julian would ask her to pose for him, and he’d called her his muse more than once, which she found to be incredibly romantic. So one day while walking past a boutique shop she’d spotted a silky peach-colored robe bursting with exotic printed flowers. She’d bought it on the spot, but had never felt bold enough to actually wear it, as it was sexier than most anything else she owned.

Slipping it over her shoulders, she then grabbed several paint tubes of color—of the nontoxic variety, of course—sticking to the ones he’d mentioned and placed them on the rolling tray beside her. The final thing was to let her hair hang long and heavy down her back.

Just like she loved Julian’s longer locks, he too loved hers being long. It now extended to the center of her back. Shoving her fingers through it to give it a sort of tousled, careless look, she nodded and then poked just her head outside the door, beckoning him to her with a smile.

He wore a confused little frown as he came, asking her what she was doing, but rather than answer she took her place in the center of the room and struck a sensual pose—or at least what she hoped would be one—trying to ignore the nest of butterflies swarming her stomach and telling her he wouldn’t get it and she was just being weird.

But all her nerves were forgotten when Julian walked through the door and his eyes became glazed with passion. A small, crooked grin slowly tipped up one corner of his mouth.

Never taking her eyes off him, she unscrewed the first tube of paint. It was labeled “Blue Regent.” Rarely did Elisa see Julian reach for his colors; usually he preferred sticking with gray and black mediums. It was almost like she could sense how much he wanted to understand color, but how terrified he was of the prospect too.

Dabbing some of it onto her finger she traced a line of that color down from the edge of her eyes to her lower cheeks. Wiping her finger clean on a paint rag, she grabbed the next tube of color. This one was a deep wine red.

Heart racing out of control she sat it back down and untied the knot of her belt with nerveless fingers. The room was silent save for the sounds of their breathing.

His fingers curled by his sides as she allowed the robe to slip in a silken puddle to the floor. Sea-green eyes moved leisurely down the slope of her body, lingering upon her breasts and between her thighs for several tense, breathless seconds before finally meeting her own.

Still fully dressed, Elisa might have felt embarrassed with anyone else, but not with Julian. He had a way of looking at her that let her know no matter what she did or didn’t wear, he always saw her. Saw beneath her flesh to her soul.

Smearing the red paint onto her finger she drew a heart slightly off center and partially on her left breast.

He licked his lips and her stomach curled with tendrils of heat as she sucked in a stuttery breath.

There were many different levels of silence in life. This was the type of silence that echoed like the crescendo of drums. Gentle and melodious at first, but slowly rising to a beat and pattern that left one breathless and entranced, unable to look away, to move, to even blink for fear you might miss its climax. That to hear it would forever change you, but to not hear it might just kill you.

Elisa knew as she spread bands of yellow, gold, brown, and black paint upon her forearms and thighs that this was one of those moments in life she’d never forget. That by doing this she was cementing Julian even deeper into her heart, that ten, twenty, even thirty years from now when she looked back on the memories of her life this would be a vignette she would visit often. Regardless of time or distance or what may come for the two of them, Julian Wright was inexorably bound like a string on a loom to the tapestry of her life.

The thought made her hands shake.

He seemed to sense the sudden heavy turn of her thoughts, because his nostrils flared as he took a tentative step toward her, closing the already scant distance between them.

Summoning her courage, she pointed to her cheeks. “This is blue like the tears I sometimes cry.” She pointed to her chest next. “Red. My passion for you.” Her arms. “Gold. Brown. Black. The different shades of flesh.”

She’d made sure as she painted the colors on her body to show enough of a contrast between them that hopefully he’d be able to tell them apart regardless of the fact that he’d never know exactly what he used.

“The point of color, Jules,” she continued, “isn’t to drown out the art, but to make them have different sensations on the eye.”

Elisa lowered her hands then, shaking like a sapling as she wondered what he’d thought of her impromptu art lesson. She was no teacher, and she knew nothing of art.

It was like someone had suddenly flipped a switch inside of him. Julian grabbed the edge of his shirt and practically ripped it off him. She sucked in a sharp breath at the beauty of his body.

Julian ate like an athlete and it showed. His abs were prominent ridges, tapering into a tight vee that led down to the waist of his jeans. Gaze greedy, she couldn’t find just one spot on his body to focus on. Because all of him was so beautiful. From his strong and defined pecs, to his wide shoulders, and his square jaw—Julian would have made Michelangelo weep.

If she could have dreamt up her dream man, she doubted she could have done better. Never in her life could she have imagined falling for a guy with pierced nipples, a pierced lip, and with gages in his ears. Julian was the antithesis of everything she’d ever thought she’d wanted. And yet…he was everything she wanted now.

She even loved his tattoos that now crawled up the sides of his neck. He didn’t move, letting her study him as he’d studied her. When her gaze finally reached his again, he must have seen in her eyes that she wanted more. Undoing the buttons of his jeans, he shoved them down his legs and then shucked them off to the side.

He wore no underwear beneath. She bit her bottom lip at the sight of his jutting erection. His legs were long and strong, and covered in a fine dusting of black hair.

“You’re so beautiful, Jules,” she signed.

Julian took two big steps, lifting her easily into his arms as he strode over to his sliding stool, refusing to release her when he took a seat.

She pushed at his chest. “Jules, I’ll make you dirty.”

But he didn’t seem to care. His lips claimed hers almost punishingly and she melted into his body, wanting nothing more than what he was offering.

Elisa wrapped her short legs around his waist, rubbing her aching center along the length of his erection, moaning with relief even as her eyes burned with heat. Fearful, but not because she was unhappy.

She’d never been happier in her life.

His fingers tapped out words on her body, talking to her even as he slipped deep inside.

Elisa hugged his head to her breast, undulating and writhing on top of him. Closing her eyes she lost herself to the sensation of his body. The springy hairs of his thighs tickled her own smooth ones. Pressing her toes into the floor to gain better leverage, she took her time, easing slowly up, before moving down, increasing her pace as their breathing grew more ragged.

She was lost in his smell of soap and mint, in the words of love he painted upon her skin. So focused on the feel of his thickness inside her that she could hardly make out what he was saying.

All she caught was smile and falling, but it didn’t matter, because her soul understood. Elisa wanted to get lost in this moment. In the feel of their bodies coming together, their sweat mingling, the smooth sensation of his tongue dragging from one nipple to the other. Shuddering from the exquisite agony of his fiery touch, she tilted her neck back and smiled into the colors of light that burst behind the darkness of her closed eyelids.

She saw blue, and red, bursts of brilliant gold, and the hypnotic sea green that she loved so well.

“Are you close?” he tapped out on her spine.

Nodding, needing him even closer than he already was, it was her turn to take his mouth. Dipping her tongue between his lips like she was lapping at the sweetest of honey.

He made the most adorable mewling noises in the back of his throat as his fingers dug hard into her hips. Julian hadn’t been her first, but he was the best.

And even though she sat on him, and had the position of dominance, he reversed it by digging his fingers into her hair and jerking her head back, exposing the long line of her neck.

Desire built like a tightly winding coil inside her he licked and nibbled the hollow of her throat. Her orgasm came swift and furious, and his followed soon after…

~*~

Summer went by in a blur. They spent every waking moment together. Recognizing that this was their final year. Elisa was determined to push the thought of that truth to the back of her mind.

She didn’t want to think about what would happen once the year was done. It was agony to even consider it. Sometimes she’d wake up in the middle of the night with her heart pounding violently in her chest, woken up by a dream of them living on opposite sides of the world. She’d be pining and miserable and he’d be laughing and clinging onto someone else’s body, worshipping someone else’s curves, and feathering words of love upon someone else’s skin.

Elisa hadn’t shared with him what her dreams were about, but he’d wake up and reassure her with kisses and tender affection and for a time she’d forget. But now the year was half over and she felt the desperation of time slipping through their fingers.