overstuffed chair were placed off to the side in full view of the chaise.
Ella felt a trickle of anticipation when she saw the chaise, her first flicker of panic when Jack told her he wanted to sketch her reclining nude on it.
“You do realize that I wouldn’t pose this way for anyone else?” she asked, surprised her voice held steady as he slipped his dark robe off her bare shoulders and down her arms, leaving her naked.
“You’d better fucking not,” he growled possessively, sending another spike of anticipation through her. She chuckled to cover her nervousness while Jake arranged her arms over her head as if they were suspended by invisible tethers, rearranged the line of her hip tilting it forward. Frowning, he sat back on his haunches before adjusting the angle and planting a kiss on the smooth curve of her belly.
“I don’t suppose you’re the airbrush kind of make-them-look-good-so-they-pay-you-a-bundle–so-you-can-make-commissions-from-all-their-friends kind of artist?” she quipped, anything but brave at the moment, which was what she’d convinced herself this was.
“You’re not paying me,” he grinned. “And FYI, airbrushing is for photographers,” he said, peeling out of his jeans and slipping a condom out of the pocket. He sat down naked in the overstuffed chair with a sketch pad propped on his knee and laid the condom on the arm of the chair. He was so nonchalant that she forgot her own nervousness.
“Painted many ‘portraits’ have you?”
“None and I’ve never shown any nudes. You’re my first. Stop moving your sexy mouth, I’m trying to get your lips right without closing my eyes.”
“You’re very talented if you can sketch with your eyes closed. Are you sure you don’t do portraits? What do you mean you’ve never shown any nudes and I’m your first?”
“I took a class in college but nudes were a problem.”
“Wouldn’t they let you get naked to sketch them?”
“Modeling is very boring. I’m trying to be entertaining.” He sighed theatrically. “You really do have to shut up. Think about sex. Think about your darkest fantasy, something you’ve always been afraid to tell anyone else.”
She started to tell him she didn’t have any but closed her mouth when he glared at her.
“Be brutally honest with yourself.”
Something she’d be afraid to tell anyone else. Brutally honest. Darkest fantasy.
Okay. She’d always had a threesome fantasy but she’d never trusted one man with that secret let alone two. Oh what the hell. She closed her eyes, smiled and imagined herself in a toga, a purple color as deep as an eggplant, the silk caressing her as she walked under a moonlit sky through her courtyard on her way to the private bathhouse.
Two men waited for her, one tall, muscular and blond, the other slim, darker, agile. They were lolling in the shallow end of the heated pool of water, candlelight reflecting where the moon couldn’t reach.
“I’m finished with your mouth. Tell me what’s put the smile on your face,” he asked in a voice gone velvety and dark.
She could feel her face heat and she opened her eyes. “I was just about to step into my own private tiled bath where two gladiators are waiting to fulfill my every wish.”
He arched a dark golden brow and continued sketching while he smiled back at her. “Two? And what are these two doing?” he asked in that same dark voice that always sent a lick of heat streaking through her.
“They’re standing at a carved stone table dressed only in loincloths. They’re waiting for me to lie down. The darker of the two unclasps the jeweled brooch that holds my toga up and lets the fabric fall over the belt at my hips. He caresses my breasts, sucking my nipples into his mouth one after the other.”
“And the other one?”
“His large blond companion has already slipped his loincloth off while the other releases my belt and I step out of my toga. He lifts me onto the table. His friend is now
Ella felt a trickle of anticipation when she saw the chaise, her first flicker of panic when Jack told her he wanted to sketch her reclining nude on it.
“You do realize that I wouldn’t pose this way for anyone else?” she asked, surprised her voice held steady as he slipped his dark robe off her bare shoulders and down her arms, leaving her naked.
“You’d better fucking not,” he growled possessively, sending another spike of anticipation through her. She chuckled to cover her nervousness while Jake arranged her arms over her head as if they were suspended by invisible tethers, rearranged the line of her hip tilting it forward. Frowning, he sat back on his haunches before adjusting the angle and planting a kiss on the smooth curve of her belly.
“I don’t suppose you’re the airbrush kind of make-them-look-good-so-they-pay-you-a-bundle–so-you-can-make-commissions-from-all-their-friends kind of artist?” she quipped, anything but brave at the moment, which was what she’d convinced herself this was.
“You’re not paying me,” he grinned. “And FYI, airbrushing is for photographers,” he said, peeling out of his jeans and slipping a condom out of the pocket. He sat down naked in the overstuffed chair with a sketch pad propped on his knee and laid the condom on the arm of the chair. He was so nonchalant that she forgot her own nervousness.
“Painted many ‘portraits’ have you?”
“None and I’ve never shown any nudes. You’re my first. Stop moving your sexy mouth, I’m trying to get your lips right without closing my eyes.”
“You’re very talented if you can sketch with your eyes closed. Are you sure you don’t do portraits? What do you mean you’ve never shown any nudes and I’m your first?”
“I took a class in college but nudes were a problem.”
“Wouldn’t they let you get naked to sketch them?”
“Modeling is very boring. I’m trying to be entertaining.” He sighed theatrically. “You really do have to shut up. Think about sex. Think about your darkest fantasy, something you’ve always been afraid to tell anyone else.”
She started to tell him she didn’t have any but closed her mouth when he glared at her.
“Be brutally honest with yourself.”
Something she’d be afraid to tell anyone else. Brutally honest. Darkest fantasy.
Okay. She’d always had a threesome fantasy but she’d never trusted one man with that secret let alone two. Oh what the hell. She closed her eyes, smiled and imagined herself in a toga, a purple color as deep as an eggplant, the silk caressing her as she walked under a moonlit sky through her courtyard on her way to the private bathhouse.
Two men waited for her, one tall, muscular and blond, the other slim, darker, agile. They were lolling in the shallow end of the heated pool of water, candlelight reflecting where the moon couldn’t reach.
“I’m finished with your mouth. Tell me what’s put the smile on your face,” he asked in a voice gone velvety and dark.
She could feel her face heat and she opened her eyes. “I was just about to step into my own private tiled bath where two gladiators are waiting to fulfill my every wish.”
He arched a dark golden brow and continued sketching while he smiled back at her. “Two? And what are these two doing?” he asked in that same dark voice that always sent a lick of heat streaking through her.
“They’re standing at a carved stone table dressed only in loincloths. They’re waiting for me to lie down. The darker of the two unclasps the jeweled brooch that holds my toga up and lets the fabric fall over the belt at my hips. He caresses my breasts, sucking my nipples into his mouth one after the other.”
“And the other one?”
“His large blond companion has already slipped his loincloth off while the other releases my belt and I step out of my toga. He lifts me onto the table. His friend is now
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