Fantasy in Lingerie (Lingerie 6)

“I want you.” He grabbed my elbow and gently forced me to turn around. He released me when I faced him head on, my hand still gripping my mug by the handle. He grabbed his mug off the counter without looking at it and took a drink, his eyes on me the entire time.

“You drink coffee after you brush your teeth?”

“What makes you think I brushed my teeth?”

“What else were you doing in the bathroom?”

He gave me his blank stare.

“I’ll pick up a new toothbrush next time I go to the store. You can keep my old one.”

“We both know I’m just going to use whatever one you’re using.”

“Why? Why do you like my toothbrush so much?”

“Because what’s yours is mine—along with everything else.” He grabbed his mug again and took another drink. We stood with my back against the counter, taking up one small area inside my kitchen. His large size blocked me, kept me cornered. He conquered me in size and strength, and his massive chest was level with my gaze.

Sometimes I felt like I was in the company of a giant.

We drank our coffee as we stood there, staring at each other with mutual intensity. I’d just fucked him all night and this morning, but I wanted more. I always wanted more with this man. His sinister and criminal ways seemed unimportant in the face of my overwhelming lust. I also liked this natural connection between us, the way we could be ourselves without explanation. Bones didn’t say much, but I found his silence refreshing. We could coexist peacefully in silence, our eyes doing the talking for us.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Bones spoke. “Sore?”

“A little.”

His eyes flashed in arousal, like he was proud of the pain he’d caused. “Sorry.”

“No, you aren’t.”

The corner of his mouth rose in a smile. “No. No, I’m not.”

I brought my arms up and kept the mug level with my chest.

“If you want me to leave, you’re going to have to tell me so. Otherwise, I’m not going anywhere.”

I wasn’t used to having a choice. Normally, I’d have to deal with Bones the way he was, stubborn and in control. But now I could ask him to stay or leave whenever I wanted. I just had a great night of sex I’d been missing, and now I could kick him out without putting up a fight. I could take advantage of it, but truth be told, I didn’t want him to go anywhere.

I liked this…whatever it was.

When I didn’t say anything, Bones spoke again. “How was your trip?”

“Good…it was nice to spend time with my parents.”

He kept up his emotionless gaze, like that sweet confession meant nothing to him.

“I displayed my paintings at the winery, made cookies with my mother, and spent time with my parents by the fire in the evenings. They love having me around, and they seem so heartbroken every time I leave…”

Still nothing. He didn’t drop his façade of indifference, holding on to his hate despite the affectionate way I spoke of my family. “How many paintings did you sell?”

My heart picked up in speed a little bit, detecting the way he believed in me so naturally. He seemed so confident that I’d sold even one painting, and that belief meant a lot to me…more than it should. “About half…”

“I’m surprised you didn’t sell them all.”

I did my best to fight my expression, but it was out of my control. I felt my eyes soften before they severed the eye contact between us. “Spring is coming soon, so that should lead to more tourists…”

“Then you must have made some decent money.”

“I sold each painting for about three thousand euros…”

He gave a slight smile. “Wow. That means you made at least ten thousand euros.”

“Yeah…about.”

“I told you that you didn’t need to go to university. You’re better than that. You don’t need to train to be an artist. You are an artist.” He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, his lips soft but aggressive.

I melted at his touch, just like chocolate the second it was popped into your warm mouth. My eyes closed, and I felt the heat circulate through me, the warmth reaching every finger and every toe. “Thanks…”

“Don’t thank me,” he whispered. “I’m telling you something you already know.”

But I wouldn’t have reached for the goal if he hadn’t encouraged me to. Now I was living my dream, making art for a living. Not too many people could say that.

He set his mug down and continued to stand directly in front of me, his size backing me into the corner. The microwave was behind my head, and the stove was to my right. Everything about us was intense, from the way we spoke to each other to the way we stood near each other. Anything could happen within the span of a heartbeat.