Page 40 of Back to Me

Returning my lips to hers, I caress her mouth with my tongue. A surge of fire burns when my body meets hers, calling my name when she’s reached her peak. My movements are quick, and it doesn’t take long for her to shatter beneath me. Opening her mouth, she leans back, feeling the intense pleasure of me filling her. Her legs wrap around my waist, keeping me close.

Grabbing the back of my head, she pulls me down, pressing my face into her shoulder. I pick up the pace, feeling the pleasure building in my lower waist. Her skin is damp as she turns her head, pressing her cheek to mine and placing her mouth next to my ear.

“You break me, Graham,” she whispers. Her words pulsate in my ear, forcing me off the edge. With her breath dancing across the sensitive skin of my ear, I thrust myself into her one last time. Lifting my head, I gaze into her eyes as I come apart.

Her glassy green eyes shine against the ever-changing colors emanating from the TV, and as I continue staring into them, I fall in love with her all over again.

Burying my face in the crook of her neck, my hot breaths dance across her slick, damp skin. Her fingers run through the hair on the back of my head, and my body relaxes, feeling her warmth wrapped around me.

When my breathing returns to normal and my pulse calms, I pull away from Sara and shift, so we’re lying beside each other on the couch. Resting her head on my chest, she turns away from the TV, keeping me her main focus.

“Hey,” she says, drawing me to look down at her. I place a gentle kiss against her hair when she adds, “Despite everything that went on at the showing, I’m really glad you came. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

With her body wrapped around mine, my stomach turns, followed by a loud grumble. An enormous giggle erupts from her throat, and she pushes me away, nearly pushing herself off the couch and onto the floor.

“Oh my God, is that your stomach?”

I sheepishly shrug, pulling her back to me. “Maybe,” I laugh.

Groaning, she pushes off me and stands. With her naked body facing me, she places her hands on her hips. I grin, sitting up just enough to place my hands on the back of her thighs. Kissing her thighs, she runs her fingers through my hair.

“Why don’t we order some Chinese and get some work done?” she asks with a shaky, desire-filled voice.

Digging my fingers into the flesh of her hips, I press my lips to her delicate skin once again. “I am working.”

Giggling, she tugs on the ends of my hair, forcing me to look up at her. “I meant we work on our paintings in the loft.”

“Sure,” I say, winking before placing my lips on her thighs once more.

An hour later, Sara and I are sitting cross-legged on the floor in our loft, eating Chinese food in our underwear. She’s holding a carton of Lo Mein, her fingers pinching a pair of chopsticks. I’m sitting across from her, my knees pressed up against hers, crunching on a piece of Crab Rangoon. Swallowing the warm cream cheese filling, I admire the woman sitting across from me. Her blonde hair is tied up into a messy high bun, and she’s wearing my white collared shirt from earlier. She only buttoned one button, and the fabric hangs loosely on her, revealing the sides of her bare breasts and the top edge of her red lace thong. Her face is painted in shadows of golden yellows, beaming in from the city lights outside our apartment.

“So,” she says, drowning out the sounds of our silent chewing. “What were you thinking about doing for our next piece?” Raising her hand, she points with her chopstick to the other side of the room where the canvases are propped up along the wall. “I feel like we’re heading toward some kind of nature theme, seeing how the two we’ve done together are a flower and a tree branch.”

Following her arm, I turn my attention to the paintings. I shrug, shoving the rest of the crab Rangoon in my mouth. “I’m not sure.”

Suddenly, she straightens her back, perking up, her eyes widening as she quickly finishes her bite of food and swallows.

“I have a great idea. It’s a little different from what we’ve been doing, but I think if done right, we can pull it off.”

Getting just as excited as her, I straighten my back as well, eager to hear what idea she’s come up with. “What is it?”

“I’m thinking the Dallas skyline. I’ll do all the skyscrapers in charcoal, and you can paint the sky. But I think the sky should be a different color than blue. Maybe some reds?” She waves her hand toward me. “Color really isn’t my thing. I’ll let you decide the colors.” Reaching out, she raps her fingers against the bare skin of my knee. “What do you think?”

The corners of her mouth are curled into a wide grin, her eyes shining against the lights, and I can feel her excitement flowing through me. Her knee rapidly bobs up and down—she’s so excited, I’m not even sure she realizes she’s doing it.

“I love it.”

“Really?” she asks, placing her Lo Mein carton beside her. “Do you think Mr. Price would go for it? I mean, it’s quite different from what we’ve done so far.”

“I don’t see why not.” Taking a sip of my beer, I remember something I haven’t told her yet. “Speaking of Mr. Price, I ran into him earlier.”

“Where?” she asks, keen to know how my coincidental meeting went.

“After I left the gallery. I was almost to my car when I saw him standing on the sidewalk. Did you know he’s friends with Allison? Apparently, he’s known her for a long time.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “She’s never mentioned him before.”

“Anyway,” I place both of my hands onto her knees. “He said he likes what I’ve sent him so far and can’t wait to see what else we’re going to come up with.”

“That’s so great, Graham.” She breathes out, he shoulders relaxing with relief.

“See?” I say in a smooth, deep voice. “I told you everything would work out.”

---