Page 142 of Forgotten Comeback
He wraps his arms around me with a grin. “You’re the only woman I want. I love being in a committed, exclusive relationship with you. See, I don’t have to flirt with every woman in the Tri-State area, Philly included. How am I doing on the reassurance?”
Keeping my face neutral, I lift a disinterested shoulder. “Meh.”
“Red’s your color, but green is a close second.” Gavin smirks, picking me up by the hips and placing me on the bar. “My dick, my tongue, or my fingers?” he says against my ear, nipping my lobe with his teeth.
My body arches, baring more of my neck, and he runs his teeth along my fluttering pulse. “All of the above,” I whisper.
Reassurance, ultimate boss.
“But in the break room.”
Thirsty bitches—male or female—aren’t going to live vicariously through me tonight.
Chapter
Fifty-Four
Taylor
“Here’s my thumbnails where I’m exploring composition,” I tell Lily over our video call. “Don’t worry about the sloppy drawings, because at this phase, it’s more about playing around with space and the edges before I start painting.”
“They’re pretty small,” she says diplomatically.
“These sketches are miniature on purpose; the finished painting will be much bigger. I like looking at it from a tiny lens, because it shows us all the standout shapes and themes,” I explain.
“Gotcha,” she says, examining my designs.
“There are a few subtle differences, and you tell me which one you like best. Labeled number one, the hand feeding the pomegranate is pretty prominent. Number two, the lips are a bit more prominent. Number three, a dark figure is behind her, feeding her. Number four, the expression’s a bit more sensual, and number five, sensual plus more emphasis on the lips.”
“Love number five,” she says decisively.
“Number five it is. As soon as I get your deposit, I’ll get to work.”
“Oh, my husband should’ve already dropped it off in your mailbox.”
“Let me check; one moment.” Popping outside, I find the envelope, and ripping it open, I do a little happy dance. My first commission check!
But the celebration is put on pause when I realize I’m on the radar of her scary husband, the Parisi family’s feared muscle man. But does it matter? At this point, I’m on the radar of every psychopath in the Tri-State area.
Maybe not Philly. There’s the silver lining.
“Received the check, thank you. I’m excited about this piece!” I tell her when I return inside to the call.
“Me too!”
We end our virtual conference, and I get my space cleaned up and walk upstairs to get ready for tonight’s fight.
Gavin’s seated cross-legged on a yoga mat in the living room, his hands resting on his knees and his eyes closed, deep in meditation.
There’s so much more to this man than I initially thought, and I’ve only scratched the surface.
His eyes flutter open, landing on mine.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” I tell him.
“It’s alright.” He gives his neck a roll. “I was almost finished anyway.”
“Can I make you something to eat?”
