Art Lovers Romance Series Read online

As I approach the door, I can tell she’s nervous. I see her blurry outline shift her weight from one foot to the other through the frosted glass in the door.

  I open the door and forget to breathe for a minute or two. She’s dressed in a form-fitting white dress that hugs her curves in all the right places. Her hard nipples press against the material as her eyes roam up and down my body. A slow smile spreads across her face before she meets my eyes and blushes.

  “You look just as handsome in jeans and a t-shirt as you do a suit,” she says softly.

  I smile and step back, inviting her in with a gesture. “And you look just as . . . delicious as you did the first time I laid eyes on you.”

  Her blush deepens and I resist the urge to tear her dress from her body and take her right there.

  And then I decide, fuck it. Dinner can wait. I’m hungry for dessert. She gasps as I press her against the wall, my lips crashing against hers. She moans as my tongue dances with hers. I slide my hands down and around, taking her luscious ass in my hands and pulling her tight against me.

  I break the kiss and nip her jaw. “I can’t wait any longer. I fucking need you. Now.”

  Before she has a chance to respond, I sweep her off the floor. She squeals. “Oh my god,” she says breathlessly. “Put me down. You’ll hurt yourself.”

  I chuckle. “Oh. I’ll put you down all right.”

  I carry her into my bedroom and toss her on the bed. Immediately, I pull my shirt off and kick off my shoes. I nod at her. “That dress looks great on you. It’ll look even better on the floor next to the bed.”

  A slow smile spreads on her face, her eyes flashing with hunger as she stares at my muscular chest. She quickly slides out of her dress and I can’t help but groan. She’s wearing a bra and panties that are lacy and as white as freshly fallen snow. She looks so fucking pure and innocent. And I can’t wait to corrupt her.

  I unbutton my jeans and let them fall. Skylar gasps as my thick cock stands tall, bobbing in the air toward her.

  “Fuck me,” she says softly.

  I join her on the bed. “That’s the idea, beautiful.”

  Chapter 11

  Skylar

  Holy hell. Logan’s long, thick cock fills my vision as he crawls onto the bed, looking at me like a predator look at prey. And I can’t help but imagine that throbbing shaft filling something else. If it’s able to. It has to be too big. I mean, I’m not a virgin but I never imagined a cock this big existing outside of porn movies.

  Logan takes my legs and raises them in the air, resting my ankles on his broad shoulders. He kisses my left ankle, and then my right, alternating as he slowly begins working his way up. I tremble as I watch him, his eyes never leaving mine. The soft but insistent press of his lips against my skin makes me shiver in the most delicious way.

  As he works his way higher, he slowly lowers his body, until his magnificent chest is against the mattress as his slow trek up my legs continues. I bite back a gasp when he gets above my knees and a wicked smile slowly appears on his lips. When he reaches my thighs, his tongue joins the party, lightly flicking against my skin as he moves closer and closer to my center, which is now throbbing with an irresistible need.

  I moan as Logan’s mouth finally reaches its destination, my eyes devouring his muscular shoulder and back as he licks my juices from thighs.

  “So fucking good,” Logan moans before running his tongue up my slit from my ass to my clit.

  “Oh god,” I gasp, grasping the cover on the bed with shaky fingers as he slowly runs his tongue up and down my pussy lips.

  I reach down and run my fingers through Logan’s dark hair as his tongue traces an agonizingly slow circle around my clit and moan his name when he slowly slides a finger inside me.

  “I want to taste you again,” Logan says before wrapping his lips around my clit and sucking it into his mouth.

  My fingers tighten in his hair, my nails scraping his scalp, as heat built deep in my core. “Logan,” I gasp, panting heavily. I groan as another finger enters me, his fingers moving faster. The tip of his tongue attacks my clit as he continues sucking it between his lips. “Oh god,” I groan, my orgasm approaching like a runaway train. I arch my back, raising my hips, pressing my pussy against his face, as I come. Logan moans, moving down slightly, catching my essence with his lips and tongue.

  I release his hair from the death grip I had it in as he slides up my body, covering my hips and tummy and breasts with kisses until his hips are between mine. I moan as the thick head of his cock slides between my pussy lips.

  “I need you,” I whisper.

  “You have me,” Logan says, his gray eyes staring intently into mine. He slides one hand down my side, sending a shiver of desire through me, and then raises that leg up, resting it on his broad shoulder. Before I can ask about this new position, he slowly presses forward, his thick cock stretching me wide.

  I moan, long and low, my brain short-circuiting as pure pleasure courses through my body. I feel fuller than I’ve ever felt in my life, and still Logan presses on. I wrap my arms around him, digging my nails into his back. I squeeze my eyes shut as the pressure builds in me, like a balloon about to pop. Logan growls as he finally slides himself fully inside me, and that simple sound of primal satisfaction sends me over the edge.

  Before I even have a chance to recover, Logan begins sliding his full length in and out of me. My toes curl and I drag my nails down his back as another orgasm follows the last one. “Coming,” I gasp. “Coming, coming, coming.”

  I scream his name as his pace increases. I feel his full balls slap my ass. For a second, I realize we didn’t use protection. And then I come again and I don’t give a fuck. I’d gladly have this sex god’s babies.

  Without slowing down, Logan leans down, pressing his lips to mine. I can taste myself on his tongue before he pulls back, a fierce look on his face. “Tell me you’re mine.”

  “I’m yours,” I moan, his thick cock driving me toward another orgasm.

  “And I’m yours,” he growls, slamming into me with a final thrust as he spills his seed inside me.

  The orgasm I had been holding back, waiting for him, escapes from me and my mind shatters in bliss.

  Chapter 12

  Skylar

  I snuggle against Logan’s chest, my body still basking in the glow of our lovemaking. And that’s what it was. I thought I’d be content with one night. But now I know one night will never be enough. His arm is a comforting weight that holds me close to him. I could wait until he falls asleep and sneak out. Run from flaws once again. But I can’t do that. Just the thought of being without him makes me feel empty inside. And I want more than one night with him, I have to risk losing everything. I have to tell him the truth.

  I sit up in bed, pulling the sheet over my bare breasts, which seems silly after what we just did, but I can’t help it. “I have a confession to make.”

  “You’re going to run away again as soon as my back is turned?” He smiles, joking, unaware of how desperately I want to do exactly that.

  “I’m broken,” I say. I look at him, nibbling on my bottom lip nervously.

  Logan loses the smile and sits up with me, reaching out and taking my hand in his. “You’ve mentioned that.” He squeezes my hand. “What makes you think that?”

  I close my eyes, the moment that changed my life flashing through my memory. I open my eyes and look at him, momentarily getting lost in his steel-gray eyes. “I have a question . . . but I’ll only ask it if you promise just to answer it. No questions or anything about it.”

  Logan nods. “You can ask me anything.”

  “Are your eyes really gray?”

  His eyes look into mine. He pauses for just a second, and then I see a flicker of something. I’m not sure what, but it almost looks like he just realized something.

  He smiles. “Yes, they are.”

  I nod, relieved, unable to keep the small smile off my face. It’s nice to know I’m seeing the actual color w
hen I look at him. I nod again, bracing myself. “I’m Umbra.”

  He nods, that flicker of understanding appearing in his gaze again. “You have achromatopsia.”

  I blink. “How . . . just how?”

  Logan smiles. “When I’m not hanging around art galleries, I run Brighton Medical, a medical tech firm.”

  “Oh. Wow. My mom has one of your artificial heart valves.”

  He nods. “The company explores a wide range of medical disciplines.” he reaches out and caresses my cheek. “Were you born with it?”

  I shake my head. “When I was in elementary school, around the Fourth of July, some jackass threw a firecracker at me. Maybe he was being a dick, maybe it was an accident. Either way, it exploded right in front of my face. I was completely blind for about a month. When my vision came back” — I shrug — “I saw a world without color.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re broken.”

  I start to object but his lips capture mine as he lays me back down. His hand slides between my legs. “You think you’re broken because you only see black and white?” His fingers slowly slide up and down my suddenly wet slit. “You think maybe you don’t have talent because you’re somehow ‘cheating’ with what you paint?” His thumb presses against my clit as he slides a finger inside me. I moan as my inner muscles clench around the intruder.

  “Your way of using shades of black and white to capture a scene is unique,” he says, beginning to slowly move his finger in and out of my tight channel. “I’ve seen others try but none come close to capturing the depth and detail that you do. It’s a rare talent.” His finger moves faster. “You’re very talented.” He leans over me and flicks his tongue across a hard nipple. “You just can’t accept it . . . but you will.”

  His tongue traces a slow circle around my other nipple, and then his finger begins to slow down. I gasp, squeezing my thighs against his arm as he pulls back until just the tip of his finger rests within the walls of my throbbing pussy.

  “No,” I whine, desperate for release. “I need you. Don’t stop.”

  Logan’s thumb ghosts lightly over my clit. I arch my hips against him, moaning.

  “Please, Logan,” I gasp. “I need to come.”

  He smiles, sliding just a bit more of his finger inside me. “And you will. Just as soon as you say you’re not broken.”

  I groan, trying to slide down against his hand, trying to capture more of him, but his finger retreats with every forward movement I make. “Logan,” I gasp. I shake my head, desire and doubt warring inside me.

  Without any warning, Logan’s finger pistons in and out of my hungry pussy three times hard and fast. Just three times. And then he stops.

  “I’m. Not. Broken,” Logan whispers, his thumb sliding slowly up and down my slit.

  I grab his arms, my nails sinking into his biceps. I know I can’t hurt him but I squeeze tight anyway, leaving little half moons in his skin. My body’s on fire, my pussy throbbing, desperate to be filled, to be fucked. I’m panting like I just ran a mile. I’m right on the edge, just needing the slightest touch to send me over. I’ve never needed to be fucked so bad in my life.

  “I’m not broken,” I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

  His finger begins moving in and out of my hot channel. Slowly. So excruciatingly slow. “Louder,” he says.

  “I’m not broken,” I gasp out, just a little louder.

  I groan when his finger slows down.

  “Not enough,” he says.

  “I’m not broken,” I shout at the top of my lungs. “I’m not broken, and I need to come. Please, Logan, make me come. I’m not broken. I just need — fuccck!”

  With a sexy smirk on his face, Logan begins fingerfucking me like a man possessed. His thumb brushes over my clit as he slides another finger inside, curling them up. I can’t hold back a long low moan as he applies just the right amount of pressure to my g-spot.

  “You’re not broken,” Logan says, his voice ragged and harsh, thick with lust. “You’re talented. And you’re beautiful. And you’re mine, Skylar. All mine.” His mouth captures mine in a hungry kiss as I come around his fingers. I moan loudly into his mouth, my orgasm still racking my body as he slides between my legs, his thick cock sliding in, filling me, giving me what I need.

  Epilogue

  Skylar

  One year later . . .

  “Sky! Come see.”

  I walk quickly down the hall, anxious to see. I enter the room that used to be an empty spare bedroom, adjusting my glasses on my nose as I slide them on.

  Logan is standing at the far wall, dressed in paint-spattered jeans and a white t-shirt that clings to his muscles. He’s holding a paint roller in one hand, looking at me with a big smile on his face. “What do you think?”

  I look at the sunshine-yellow streaks on the wall and smile. “It’s perfect. The sun will shine through the windows in the morning and make the whole room bright and cheery.”

  It’s fitting because it captures perfectly how I felt when the pregnancy test said we were expecting. I pull the glasses off and set them on the chest of drawers against the wall. They were a wedding present from Brighton Medical. I don’t wear them all the time, even though I could. Although they let me see color, I’m used to my world of blacks and grays and whites. However, there are times when it’s nice to see color, like when your husband is showing off what color the nursery will be. It will be especially nice to not have to ask what color our son or daughter’s eyes are.

  Logan comes up and kisses me passionately. I moan, feeling that familiar heat between my legs. “I want you,” I whisper against his cheek.

  “I want you too,” he says, flashing me a grin. “I want you to get out of here.” He waves at the door. “Go on. You’re pregnant with our child. You don’t need to be smelling paint fumes.”

  I give him another quick kiss and let him shoo me out of the room. I flash him a wink as I walk out the door, beginning to slowly unbutton my shirt. “We’ve got seven months before the baby arrives. Feel like taking a break?” I drop my shirt in the hall and disappear around the corner. I smile as I hear the paint roller drop on the floor.

  ◆◆◆

  The Artist

  Cyndie:

  I’m expecting a nice, quiet week while watching my parents’ house and pets while they go on vacation, but that’s before I learn the older man next door looks a lot hotter than I remember him being. He used to be a lawyer but he left that high-pressure lifestyle to be an artist. The short hair and clean shave have been replaced by long hair and a rugged look that makes my heart beat just a little bit faster. Would he be interested in a younger woman with a few curves here and there?

  Derek:

  The girl next door has grown up, and the look in her eye suggests she doesn’t mind that my hair has a bit of gray in it. I can’t help but paint her when I see her working on her tan in the back yard, and I also can’t help taking matters in my own hands. It’s been too long and she’s too beautiful to resist, but then she catches me in the act. When there’s a knock at the door, I know it’s her. I could deny doing what she caught me doing but why deny how she makes me feel?

  Chapter 1

  Cyndie

  The German Shepherd charges at me, all teeth and shiny eyes. It’s enough to make most people run for the hills. I kneel down and open my arms wide. Bruno, my parents’ big fur baby who looks a lot meaner than he is, crashes into me, rocking me back on my heels.

  “Who’s a good boy?” I coo into his ear as he covers me in slobbery doggie kisses.

  Bruno drops and rolls over onto his back, letting me know that he’s a good body and he deserves a belly rub. I oblige the spoiled dog and climb back on my feet. Cleopatra, my parents’ cat, looks at me from the bar, the look on her black and white face letting me know there’s no way she’ll ever stoop to such theatrics. Instead, she waits for me to come to her.

  I pick up my bag that I had dropped to the floor when Bruno greeted me a
nd close the front door behind me. “Still queen of the castle,” I say to the cat as I scratch her behind her left ear. She purrs contentedly.

  I sigh as I look around the house. “Home sweet home.” Not really. At least not for a couple of years. But there was just something comforting about being back where I grew up, seeing the little hash marks on the wall at the edge of the hallway as my parents documented my height through the years. They didn’t have to do much documenting since I only made it to 5’ 1”.

  I casually stroll through the living room and glance out the window into the backyard. A slow smile spreads across my face. It’s not like I was going to tell my parents no when they asked me to pet-sit while they went to Hawaii for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, but the timing couldn’t have been better.

  I had recently gone out with a guy who turned out to be a nightmare. All it took was one date to bring out the ugly, with Mr. God’s-Gift-To-Women confessing that he usually didn’t go for larger girls but he was willing to “give me a try” because he liked my feisty personality. Unfortunately, his fragile ego couldn’t handle me telling him no and he suddenly became Creepy Stalker Dude. According to his last text message, he was determined to show me “a good time” whether I was interested or not. The next text message after that was my mom asking about house-sitting. Easiest choice I’ve ever made in my life.

  I shake my head, sighing. I really should know better. My nice guy radar is all kinds of fucked up. Not too long ago, I set my best friend up with someone I had worked with at an old job. Turns out his idea of a good time was making fun of her because of an accident that left her unable to see colors.

  So, of course, if I can’t pick a winner for my best friend, I certainly can’t pick a decent guy for myself. Serves me right though. That’s what I get for going out with a model.