The Magnum Model

“I don’t need any money.”

He sighs. “Fine. I’ll let you use my boat this summer.”

My eyebrows perk up. “All summer?”

He grunts in frustration. “One week.”

“Nope.”

“Fine! All summer.”

Now he’s talking. Malcolm has a hell of a nice boat and I’ve been working so hard the past couple of years. I could use a break for the summer, lounging on that beauty all day.

Plus, I’m the kind of guy who has to stay busy and with nothing to do for the next there weeks, I’m going to drive myself insane.

“She’s not going to ask me to get naked, is she?”

Malcolm swallows hard as he tightens the strap on his glove.

“Malcolm…”

“No, no,” he quickly says. “Just your face. Nothing else.”

“Okay,” I reluctantly say. “Fine. I’ll do it in exchange for using your boat all summer.”

The boys skate over for a line change. I toss down my water bottle and leap over the boards.

“Just my face, right?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“Just your face,” he repeats as he lands on the ice. “So, don’t go breaking it out here!”

This place is nice. I check the address on the paper again. It matches up.

Whoever this artist is, she’s been pretty successful to live in a gorgeous townhouse like this in this ritzy part of town.

I walk up to the door and bang on it three times. No answer.

There’s loud music coming from inside, so she probably won’t be able to hear me knocking no matter how hard I hit my knuckles on the door.

I peek in through the huge window beside the stairs and my heart nearly stops when I see the beauty inside.

She’s stunning. Absolutely mesmerizing.

My mouth must be hanging wide open as I stare at her in awe.

I’ve never seen a woman like her. Ever.

Her brown hair is tied up in a ponytail, which bounces around as she moves through her studio, swaying her hips to the U2 song blasting through the speakers.

I can’t take my eyes off her. My heart is hammering in my chest and banging in my ears.

She’s got on these big baggy overalls with only one strap fastened over her bare shoulder. The other one hangs down, the button probably long gone. Under that she’s wearing a blue bra that matches her gorgeous eyes. Eyes that are so alert and focused as she dips a paintbrush into some red paint and then drags it along the huge canvas.

My body jolts with every inch of delectable paint-dotted skin I can see. Her arms, her shoulders, her neck, her hands, that mouthwatering cleavage… It’s all splattered with different colors of paint, giving her a magical, otherworldly look.

She sits on the stool and focuses completely on the canvas, those sexy blue eyes narrowing as she dips her brush into more paint and carefully applies it.

My breath is caught in my throat as I watch her gorgeous face all twisted up in concentration. Her dark eyebrows pulled together, her forehead scrunched up, her delicious-looking lips pursed into a kiss.

I want her. I need her.

I’m not leaving this house until she admits that she’s mine. Until she says that I can have her. All of her.

I’ve never had this feeling before and I’m not ready for the intensity of it. It rocks me to my core as I stand here spying on her, trying to keep my fucking hands from shaking. I can barely breathe. I can hardly think. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

I’m the guy who’s gone his whole life without a girl. The kind of freak who turned down one beautiful girl after another because none of them held my interest. Now, after a decade and a half of being on my own, I’m staring at the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with. The girl I was destined to be with. The girl I won’t ever be able to forget.

Her fierce blue eyes suddenly dart over and widen when they see me.

I gulp as I’m hit with the full stunning force of them. They’re magnificent. She’s magnificent.

She grabs a bobby pin off the table and quickly does up her broken strap as she hops off the stool. I keep my eyes locked on her as she wipes her hand onto her hip, leaving a colorful streak of red on her overalls.

My heart starts really hammering when I hear the music turn off and then the soft thud of footsteps as she runs to the door.

Holy shit. I’m about to meet an angel.

The lock clicks, the door opens, and suddenly she’s there, standing in front of me like a goddess in the flesh.

I can’t even fucking speak. I’m just standing here in her doorway, staring at her in awe.

She looks just as stunned to see me as she slowly drags her eyes up my body. I’m a big, tall, muscular guy who often gets that stunned look when meeting people for the first time, but there’s something different in her eyes. A fire? Desire? Nah… It must just be my size. Hoping that an angel like her would be interested in me is just wishful thinking.