Page 30 of Canvas of Lies
One stroke of his thumb was all it took after those dark, hoarse words. I arched, cried out, and clenched hard around him as the orgasm shook me. Nico groaned, burying his face in my neck. After a flurry of deep, hard thrusts, he shuddered through his own release and collapsed carefully onto me.
“Holy. Shit.” I panted the words, curling my arms around him.
His low rumble of laughter tickled my throat. “I’ll second that.”
As soon as he caught his breath, he shifted off of me, took care of the condom, and drew me back into his arms. Limp with satisfaction, my entire body was infused with soft, relaxing warmth. I draped myself across his chest, one leg tangled in his, utterly boneless and languid in my bliss as he trailed his fingers lazily up and down my spine.
After a moment, I mumbled, “Not that your ego needs the boost, but you are very, very good at that.”
“I’ve had a lot of years to think about it,” he replied, “but reality exceeded every single fantasy.”
For a long while, we stayed like that, cocooned in the quiet and the shared glow of satisfaction. A lifetime of childish daydreams and more mature fantasies still couldn’t prepare me for the soul-deep contentment that seeped from every pore, coating every inch of my body.
This? This was worth the wait. It was wortheverything.
Every moment of neglect, however benign, every second of loneliness, every ounce of rejection—Nico’s careful attention swept it all away, like brushing cobwebs from the rafters.
Whether he’d planned to stay in my life after this was over or intended to slip away into the shadows again, I didn’t care. I wouldn’t let him walk away again, not now that everything had changed.
As the sunlight coming through the window shifted and changed, I had no idea what time it was, only that my empty stomach couldn’t win out against the comfort of Nico holding my naked body against his. I’d stay here and starve, as long as hewas with me. Eventually, I wondered if he’d dozed off, but then he shifted slightly and I couldn’t bite back the words any longer.
“Why didn’t you tell me he took the painting?” My voice was low, my breath warm against our cooling skin. There was curiosity in the question, but I hoped no trace of accusation.
Nico’s eyes flew open. “I—I don’t know. When I think about it now, I tell myself that I didn’t think it was fair to involve you.”
“But that’s not true. I’ve always been involved and you know it.”
“I guess you’re right.” He frowned when I peeked up at his face. “It was a hard time. I was grieving and desperate and felt so, so alone. Everything from that period of my life seems cloudy and distorted, everything but the pain.”
I lifted my head, propping my chin on his chest to look at him. The words hurt before they even left my lips, but I had to say them.
“You weren’t sure you could trust me.”
One corner of his mouth curved upward, soothing that wound before it could fester. “No, that’s not it. To be honest, I wasn’t sure you could trustme. I was angry, angrier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. It had been a long time since we’d seen each other, even longer since I’d been a halfway decent friend to you. How someone like you came from someone like your father, I’ll never understand, but I was afraid, terrified that I would do anything I had to in order to get it back, including turning you into a pawn.”
The irony had us both huffing a soft laugh, but I laid my head back down. “So here we are, only now I’m a willing pawn.”
Nico heaved a sigh. “I still don’t like putting you at risk. Not for my sake.”
“Good thing I’m not doing it for you then,” I replied.
“Oh, really? Then why would you choose to be involved in this mess?”
“I’m doing it for your father’s sake. He was the only adult in that house who made me feel like I wasn’t a complete and total failure.”
Startled, Nico lifted his head. “A failure? Why the hell would you feel like a failure? You’re the smartest person I know.”
I tried to disguise the stab of pain in my chest with a bright smile. “Oh, the usual. Not born male, to start with. Never classy enough, girly enough, or obedient enough for the daughter of a man like Aidan Willoughby. Too cozy with the household staff, which I’m sure is how he viewed you, even though we both know that was a giant crock of shit.”
“Kitten,” he murmured.
Do not cry.My father didn’t deserve my tears, but the tenderness of Nico’s expression threatened to draw them straight to the surface. I shoved them back down and let gratitude for having Nico and his father in my life fill in the crumbling gaps of my resolve.
“Oh, and my mother leaving me with him was definitely a point against me, though who knows howthatbecame my fault. After she moved out, he told me she trapped him intomarriage by getting pregnant with me. Since he was caught cheating on her with a dozen witnesses, she took him for every penny she could get. I don’t think he ever got over that.”
“Christ, I’m sorry. That sounds so inadequate, but it’s true. I knew you weren’t exactly happy there, but I always thought your father’s disdain was directed at me, not you.”
I shrugged.“C'est la vie,I guess. I got the hell out of there as soon as I could, and I made a life for myself. I don’t need his approval or his permission, not anymore. Your dad, though . . . I always felt appreciated when I was around him, like he valued all the quirks my father hated.”
