Page 31 of Allure
“What about it?” Syra eyed him, noticing he couldn’t keep a smile off his handsome face. His eyes were bright as he took in her messy hair and the paint-covered shirt that had belonged to him. She spent more time in his clothes or naked than she did in her own clothes.
“My best friend connected me with an art collector, and they want the painting.” He put down a container and came to stand next to her to grab her hands.
It wasn’t unusual for people to buy her paintings; she had a small social media presence and used that to sell some work and custom jobs. But something in Marco’s excitement made her stomach tighten.
“Your friend who’s in Turkey?” Syra mumbled.
He nodded. “Yep. He put me in front of Michelle Strand. He was looking for your painting. His assistant had seen it pop up when they were scrolling the interwebs for something, and Michelle wants it. He also wants to help curate an art show for you.”
Syra opened her eyes, pushing the memories of the past back into the neat little box they kept escaping from. What ifs and traveling down memory lane were never a good idea, no matter how fondly she looked at that time of her life.
She braced herself before she turned to face Marco, knowing seeing him plus the memory of that night still fresh in her mind would knock the wind out of her. But even as she held her breath and slowly turned to face the man who haunted her dreams, it hadn’t been enough to prepare her body from seeing him in a dark gray suit that managed to exaggerate the green of his eyes and make that smile he wore seem even more handsome on his face.
“Estrellita,” he whispered. It came out as a cross between a curse and a prayer that lit her up from the inside.
My little star. A constellation so bright I’ll always look to you to guide me home.
She clenched her hands into fists to stop herself from reaching out and tracing the material of his suit against his frame. How was it that he seemed larger in this lighting? He was taking up all the space and the oxygen in the room, which was a hard feat to do considering the size of the place. She felt helpless to do anything but breathe him in and let his sandalwood scent drown her. He was an ocean wave engulfing her and dragging her back out to sea with him. She knew it was a wasted effort to fight against the current but she tried anyway.
Marco wasn’t wearing a tie like the rest of the men, and the top of his shirt was unbuttoned, giving her a peek of the olive skin she had spent many nights running her tongue across. It was ridiculous how she always had this desire to consume him. It was as if her body was addicted to the sight and taste of him to the point she had no control over her need, no matter what lies fell across her lips.
“I’m leaving, Marco. This has been fun, but it was never meant to be more than us fooling around. We’re not in love, and you always knew there was someone else.”
Those words had haunted her from the moment she spoke them. They had always been a lie she wished she could take back because they were in love. At least she was starting to fall for him and the life they could have, but Joel’s hold on her had been stronger. Her young mind felt like she owed him something that was never really his.
Marco’s eyes traveled the length of her body, and she loved the way his nostrils flared when he caught sight of the skin peeking out at the side of her dress. The low rumble that tore through his throat made her knees weak. He couldn’t control his need for her either. She felt flushed and ached and desperate to climb him and let him inside of her. Her early reservations about the dress and how she looked in it easily fled from her mind. Even at her lowest, Marco knew how to make her feel like a goddess.
“Asli left you alone?” Marcotskedunder his breath as he took a step closer. He reached out and gripped the side of her neck, tilting her head up toward his and she let him. All the talks about keeping things separate between them slowly started to fade. They felt like nothing more than a smoke screen to give her the illusion that she moved on from him.
“A little lamb left for the wolves to play with.” His chuckle wrapped around her and pulled her in further. “You look good enough to eat, estrellita.”
Then feast on me. The thought whispered in her mind, and when his gaze dipped toward her lips, she thought she has spoken out loud.
“Mi tentación,”he murmured as his grip on her neck tightened.
She felt herself falling under his spell again. She felt her body melt into his and open up under his gaze. She bit her lip to keep herself from begging him to touch her. Some sort of self-preservation still existed, but she wasn’t sure how much longer it would hold out when he stared at her like she was the only person who mattered in his world.
Someone brushed up against them, effectively pulling them apart. Marco dropped his hold on her, and she instantly felt a chill run across her body, missing the warmth his touch provoked. He kept his gaze on her but remained quiet, and she was filled with a nervous energy that made her shift on her feet.
She glanced around the room, looking for something—anything—to distract her from her nerves and to stop herself from throwing her own rules completely out the window. She wanted to pull him into a dark corner of the main room and let him bring her to a climax she knew he could give her with ease.
“How come the men aren’t wearing masks?” Syra blurted out when she saw a man and woman walk past her. She noticed none of the guys who were guests were wearing masks but all the women were. She meant to ask Asli earlier when hers broke, but she had been preoccupied looking at all the women she had come across in various outfits who either exposed enough skin to know the color of their nipples or left some things to the imagination.
It had been almost as natural as breathing for her to compare her body to those around her. All the women here looked beautiful and confident, and while that normally would have set off the nasty thoughts in her mind telling her she wasn’t enough because she didn’t look like them anymore, she’d been able to take comfort in the beauty that surrounded her.
“How do you not feel judged or judge other women?” Syra asked Raven. They were going over the details of a painting she wanted commissioned.
“Same way you do it when you paint them,” Raven murmured. “People come into Lush looking for sexual freedom and safety. No one is coming in here to judge someone in the way society has taught women to judge each other. I mean, sure, they’re looking for someone to spice up their sexual activities, but attraction is more than just looks.” Raven smiled. “Energy and a person’s vibe go a long way.”
Raven had been right. Syra always tried to pull the person’s energy into the paintings she’d done. It was what had given her artwork that extra oomph when she switched over to erotic self-portraits, and she was going to remind herself of that tonight. It didn’t matter that she had stretch marks, cellulite on the back of her legs, or put on weight as she got older. She was beautiful in her own right and felt good—especially when Marco’s eyes were on her.
Marco chuckled. “That’s just one of the rules tonight that was voted on. Did you miss that part when they made you sign your waiver?”
She ducked her head trying to remember everything she’d been told. It was a lot to take in, and she focused on the safety aspects more than anything else.
He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a black mask. Her eyes widened, taking in the gold and silver thread weaving around the eyes. She reached out and felt the material, surprised at how soft it was when the one Asli had handed her felt hard—like the ones at the Halloween stores.
“This is beautiful,” she murmured.
