Page 14 of Becoming His Muse
George raised a brow at Elion before smiling. “Your room’s ready,” he informed them, and it was only then, when Elion started towards the room, that Olani realized that her hand was still in his.
When they entered the room, she found three stations inside, large plush pillows on the floor as chairs, and supplies. She wasn’t sure what any of it was, but it was inside, so she assumed they would need it. The room was decorated with paintings on the walls and shelves of small trinkets. There was a phone dock to play music, and she noticed four light switches.
Elion led her over to one of the stations, and she placed her purse down on the pillow chair of the third one as she watched him grab a few things. He didn’t have to stop and think about what he needed, and that, for some reason, had Olani biting her bottom lip briefly. Confidence in anything had always been a turn-on to her, and this seemed to follow the trend.
“So, what are we making?” she questioned after a few seconds of silence.
“We can make whatever you want to,” he responded, looking over his shoulder at her.
Olani thought for a moment. She’d never considered herself creatively inclined, and pottery had never been something she’d even thought about attempting until now. Therefore, she had no idea what she wanted to make.
“Since you’re the professional here, I’ll let you choose.” Olani was sure he’d picked something she’d have fun making but alsowouldn’t bore him since she got the feeling he could make just about anything.
Elion approached the chosen station, placing the supplies beside her. “We could make a spoon or a bowl. We can make something more complex if you’re up for a challenge.”
“Something complex like what?”
“We could make a coffee cup with baby owl detailing if you want to,” Elion responded, and Olani found herself smiling.
She’d said in her survey that she thought baby owls were cute. It was something small but personal that she felt would allow whoever she sent the survey to have an understanding of something that appealed to her. Allowing them in on a more personal level when reading facts could usually seem impersonal. The fact that he’d remembered proved how much he paid attention. She had no doubt that he would be able to show her how to make a baby owl mug.
“That sounds like fun,” she responded with a smile.
“Baby owl mug it is, then.”
Olani watched while he set everything up, placing everything in a specific spot. It was almost meticulous, but she was sure he didn’t realize he’d done it.
Once he placed everything she’d need around her station, she had expected him to grab supplies for his station. She had not expected him to sit behind her, long legs on either side of her.
“If this makes you uncomfortable, I’ll move,” he informed her, and she could feel his chest against her back as he spoke. The smell of his cologne, which was sin, danced around her, and she was made aware of the last time she’d been intimate with someone because her mind informed her that if she rose up a bit and slid back, exactly what she’d come into contact with.
“I’m fine,” she responded after a moment, and she wondered if he could hear the lie in her voice. She was not fine.
Elion was not fine. When he’d asked her out again, proposing pottery, he wasn’t intending to end up in aGhostsituation, but here they were. He only made the decision when she’d decided what she wanted to make. He knew taking a hands-on approach would be easier while teaching her.
However, he’d put himself in a dangerous position. Her perfume washed over him and filled his senses. Elion’s arms pressed against Olani’s, her skin smooth and soft against his. His hands guided her as they created, and her fingers were delicate under his. Even with the clay that covered them.
His fingers instructed hers, moving them in the right way to manipulate the clay, mold it, and form it the way it needed to be. He knew that was what they were doing, but that wasn’t what it felt like.
No, their fingers were slow dancing across a canvas of creation. Each move was a deliberate, precise dance step choreographed just for the two of them, for that very moment. And she followed him so pliantly, so willingly that Elion wondered what else she would follow his lead in, allow him to dominate in.
Their hands rode the currents of the mug they were making. Rising from the bottom, dipping slightly before coming up to caress the rim.
Elion shifted their hands, leaning up to speak directly in her ear. “Even though the entire thing spins, we have to be sure to mold it from all sides.”
His fingers slipped between hers, and he found himself caressing them at the same time he did so to the coffee cup. Olani shifted, pushing back into him briefly, and he had to damn near bite his tongue to keep from groaning in her ear. Heknew she hadn’t done it on purpose, but he felt as if the entire situation, the position, was a tempting tease designed to test his willpower, even though he was the reason they’d ended up that way.
Elion vaguely wondered if his lack of bedroom company had left him touch deprived if he was reacting this way from making a cup. Or was it just the woman in front of him that had his body responding in ways he almost forgot it knew how to?
When the cup was shaped, he helped her draw in the owl detailing, his face next to hers, hand under her wrist as she used the picks to carve it all out. If she had trouble with something, he would gently grip her wrist, control her movements briefly before releasing her, and use his middle finger to rub circles on the underside of her wrist.
Elion hadn’t realized he was doing it at first, but she didn’t seem to mind it. He got the feeling that she was pretending to have trouble with certain parts, so he would do it. He had no problem with that and soon found himself continually caressing her wrist.
By the time they’d added the handle to the coffee cup, he knew that the class starting when they arrived was over. It would need to sit in the microwave kiln to harden for a bit, and Elion figured he could talk to her more. They’d talked a bit while they were making the cup when his mind wasn’t on their proximity, her fragrance, the feel of her skin.
He moved from behind her, holding his hand out to help her up. The two approached the small industrial sink, and he allowed her to go first.
“Do you think this is something you’d do again?” he questioned as he watched her.
