Page 18 of Riley

I bet he would make a fantastic model to draw.

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, Cinderella. I said a lot of things,” he teased, taking a sip of his drink. When he pulled back, I could see the faint hint of whip cream on his lip, and before I could say anything, his tongue darted out and swiped at it.

I wished I could say I wasn’t so easy, but the truth of the matter was, I was as easy as pie.

The sight of him, licking any sort of frosted goodness off of those pouty lips was... sexy.

It made me think about him licking other... things...

I crossed my legs immediately as the image flitted through my mind, my cock twitching in agreement. I cleared my throat, burying myself in my own drink.

Pure, bitter, black coffee fixed everything. Especially unruly erections and existential crises.

“About having fun,” I said, straightening my stature. I looked at him, his relaxed state, and I wished I could be like that.

Cool and sexy.

Instead, I was awkward at best where flirting was involved, and my life revolved around my job. Eric’s suggestion that we actually hang out was intriguing to me not just because I wanted to get to know him, but also because I truly wanted to do something that was different. I didn’t want to be a pumpkin anymore.

I wanted to be Cinderella at the ball, where she meets the prince of her dreams.

“Ah, I see. So, you thought you’d call me up and see what kind of trouble we could make together, is that it?” he said, flashing a grin, and I got the feeling trouble to him was much more than staying out late on a school night.

“I mean, unless you have other plans,” I said, biting my bottom lip.

I watched as Eric drank from his cup again, spreading more of that delicious white cream all over his perfect lips.

Now is not the time, Riley!

Eric let out a laugh, the sound just as smooth as hot fudge on a sundae.

“Tell me, Riley, what do youwishyou could do? What do you like? And I swear to all that is holy, if you sayI don’t know,orit’s up to you,you will eat those words.” His tone was as aloof as it was dark, and I realized as his tongue darted out once more, sliding over his lips, that he was not just being cheeky. He was legit flirting with me.

Which made me even more self conscious.

“I, uh...” I cleared my throat again, trying to find the words. The truth was, I didn’t know what I wanted to do.

Jasper Springs was a small town and there wasn’t much to do there in general, and being as I didn’t really spend my weekends traveling or visiting the city, I wasn’t entirely sure what there was to do.

Or what normal folks did for fun.

My idea of fun involved getting messy with my canvas while I tuned out to my Spotify.

To just let go and... feel.

“Well, normally, Iliketo stay in and paint, but...”

“Painting, huh? Didn’t peg you for an artist.”

I knew I should have been offended by his comment, after all, artists didn’t have alook. Everyone was an artist, the mediums just differed. Some were more literal, like me and paint with traditional tools, while others painted digitally in Photoshop, or with words when they wrote. Some painted with flour and butter and sweet frosting, and others painted with cotton swabs and microscopes and proteins.

Everyone was an artist, because we all created something.

But something about his words felt less accusatory.

“I am. I teach art, actually.”

I watched Eric’s eyes widen, as if he was genuinely surprised, a flush of scarlet grazing his perfect complexion.

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