Along for the Ride
“Oh ... I see.” She didn’t see.
He gave a deep chuckle; it was mellow and inviting.
“Still interested?”
“Sure.” She swallowed nervously. What the hell am I letting myself in for?
“You lucky cow,” Justine exclaimed when Georgie had related the conversation over a bottle of red wine, later that evening. They were in Justine’s kitchen, keeping well out of earshot of her eager teenage brother. The lad kept loitering around expectantly whenever the two women started giggling, straining to catch the conversation until Justine has blackmailed him with the loan of her new Lara Croft computer game for the evening.
“Oh, I don’t think he meant anything ... literal.” Georgie was kind of hoping that she was wrong, though. Justine pouted at her, sulking. Georgie chuckled. She couldn’t help it. Justine was green with envy.
“Admit it,” Justine demanded, shaking her tousled mop of blonde hair. “I bet you wouldn’t say no.”
“No, I probably wouldn’t say no, given the opportunity.” Georgie tried to keep a straight face. “I’m just not assuming that he meant it that way.”
“He’s a man isn’t he?”
“And so is the Pope!”
Justine laughed and topped up their glasses.
“He said he’d pay me twenty quid an hour.”
“In that case, the next bottle is on you.” Justine shook her head at her friend, laughing. “I would pay him for the chance.”
“Coming from an impoverished student, that’s quite a statement.”
“Too right. Hey, maybe he’s like that Italian geezer -- you know, the one that only painted the women’s eyes in if he’d shagged them,” Justine speculated.
“Modigliani?”
“That’s the guy.” She gestured with her glass. “You could just tell those poor eyeless women were gagging for it. The man must have been hung like an ox to have instilled such longing.”
“Justine!” Georgie chastised mockingly.
“Ha. You’ll be the one posing in front of him; how will you feel then? I just bet you’ll be wondering if he?
??ll be painting your eyes in or not!”
“Do you ever think about anything else other than sex?” Georgie replied, in an effort to distract herself from the implications of being in front of those hawklike eyes, possibly for hours on end.
“Not when there’s a man like Calvin around.”
No Georgie had agreed, silently, and reached for her glass. It wasn’t going to be easy at all.
* * * * *
Calvin rested one hand on the edge of the easel; the other toyed with the new brush he was about to use, his gaze roving over his subject. She was perfect for the job -- shame he couldn’t keep his mind on it. He looked appreciatively at the peaks of her nipples, and lower, at the gentle swell of her belly. The taut line of her thighs led up to the soft dark fur covering her pubis. She was a very sexy lady. He wanted to experience that from the inside. He knew it was only a matter of time until he would. She was up for it, and his cock had been uncomfortably erect inside his jeans for some time, but Cal enjoyed that kind of anticipation. He also enjoyed seeing her squirming, wanting, and restless as a cat in heat. He could be very wicked about such things.
He held the new brush in his hand, the thicket of bristles moving through his beard, absentmindedly. He walked closer, quietly, and stood over her, his arms folded across his chest, contemplating her body with determination.
“Georgie?”
Her eyes opened. She rolled over and looked up at him through the wave of black hair that swept over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry. I must have dozed off.” She laughed and sat up. “What would you like me to do?”
Cal stared at her upturned chin, her lips apart as she awaited his reply. Her cheekbones were wide and full, her eyes dark pools of suggestion, inviting him in to their liquid depths. She had the look of a harem woman, rich with sensuality. He was hungry for a taste of her.