Page 33 of One Wild Ride

THIRTEEN

Aria

Present Day

“Naked bodies everywhere,” Alex said with a smile that was wide, wonderful, and caused me to blush.

Me. Aria Dixon. Blushing because a man said naked bodies. Not just that, but what he wore could burn the inside of a glacier. How was I to concentrate when Alex Hawthorne, the man full of sculpted muscle and corruptible sexuality, wore a pasted on black T-shirt, jeans, and bare feet?

“What do you mean naked bodies? There are two, maybe three if you count the cherub.” I turned to him, my face serious. “I understand if you want to scrap this whole thing.”

His amazing, sexy gray eyes widened and for that moment, I wondered what his O-face looked like.

Ever since Mrs. Hawthorne asked me to pop her son’s cherry a week and a half ago, I couldn’t stop thinking about sex when it came to Alex. Everything turned sexual and it’s creeping me out.

Don’t get me wrong, I like sex but when I work, I focus on the art. Now I can’t concentrate. Not when he’s standing next to me, heat rolling off his body as my sex-starved skin gobbled it all up.

Now I’m thinking about his skin. Not any skin, but a certain part of his skin wrapped about something that grows long and hard.

“Why would I want to scrap the mural? Aria, you’re talking nonsense. It’s even better than I imagined.” His hand landed on my shoulder and it burned. “You are unbelievably talented.”

I told Mrs. Hawthorne that I wasn’t the one to take Alex’s virginity. It’s one thing for it to happen naturally between a man and a woman. But to be told to do it, by his mother, well, there was something terribly wrong with that.

“That’s very kind of you, Alex, but I think the real point here is that this wall doesn’t need a mural. Maybe just some new wallpaper. Or a splash of paint. I think the painting you bought of mine, joking aside, would look wonderful in the center of a deep blue wall,” I said and nodded encouragingly.

Alex kept calling me but I ignored him until I accidentally answered his call last Thursday. I told him I needed time to work with Tiffany to create the print outs, which was mostly true. I had needed time but by Thursday I was done.

I stalled coming up with a way to get out of the mural mess. Get away from his screwed-up family. I ran away long ago from one crazy family, and I wasn’t about to be wrapped up in another.

Yesterday I came up with the perfect idea. Alex needed to fire me.

These were the reasons why having one-night stands were much better than getting into a relationship with a man. Because you never just date the man, you also have to deal with the man’s family. After what I had seen and heard about this family, I don’t want to be near any of it, no matter how incredibly sexy and sweet Alex was to me.

“You mean the clown painting?” Alex threw his head back as his eyes widened.

“Yeah.”

“Aria, I love your work and I bought the clown painting because it belonged with the collection. But waking up, or worse, falling asleep to a clown staring at me is not something that will make me happy.”

I threw my arms in the air. “I’m just spit-balling here. Maybe my painting titled Beauty.”

“The guy has a gun to his head in that one.”

I never realized how dark my paintings were.

“Then don’t use my paintings. You have a Warhol I presume, as you seem to have every other famous artist.”

He nodded. “Yes, I own one Warhol.”

“His paintings are colorful and have a brightness to them. Nothing about them should make you scared or sad. Use this wall for a Warhol.” I waved my arm in the direction of the mural I traced out in pencil using Tiffany’s printouts.

He grabbed my arms, bringing me close to him. “But I don’t want a Warhol or even one of your paintings I already bought. I want something unique.” Alex shook his head and dipped it closer to my neck. “I want something exceptional. Something never seen before. I want the only thing you can give me.”

I turned my head, brushing his cheek with mine. It sizzled and the sparks scattered down my arm and through my chest. Alex was making this difficult. Maybe if he hated me then he would fire me.

I pushed him back. “Only a rich snob would want something no one else has.”

I was pushing it but he needed to hate me.

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