Page 31 of Paint Me Love
That’s what this is, I think. I want him, and I won’t let him go until I have him. Until he’s like me, until he’s part of my world, too far gone to go back to his. He can’t win, today was proof of that. He fell into my web of his own accord, and now he will play by my rules until he can’t live without me in the same way I can no longer let him go.
“He’s perfect, isn’t he, dear?” Marge comments, patting me on the arm. “You picked your man very well, I have to say.”
Adam strokes my jaw. “You better not be eyeing him, Marge.” He chuckles. “Derek is an impossible man to tame.”
“Oh my, you two! What have you been up to?”
That’s where I tune out, not interested in the conversation any further. We move on to another person not long after, then greet a dozen more before we make it to our table. Abstract art and home décor is what we are bidding for according to the pamphlet, and the items look just as disappointing in person as they do in the pictures. There is no thought put in their creation, no idea, it’s just random patterns and shapes that pretentious people like us like to pass as art.
It’s nothing like Daniel’s paintings. It lacks soul. Nothing from the lineup touches me, it’s all just static in the background. Meaningless, meant as a way to launder money or save on taxes.
I want to see him. Now. But I can’t, I have to be patient. To take my time with him so he willingly gives himself over fully.
He will call me in the morning, I know it. He will think of me when he goes to bed, when he touches himself and wishes I was there to fuck him again. He has it in him, what I have been searching for—that need to please, to be used.
I’m hard, painfully so. My body craves him like I’m the one being trained, like he already owns me. It’s exhilarating.
“Derek,” Adam clips, squeezing my thigh. “Get yourself under control.”
Our gazes clash, two alphas locked in an eternal battle. He and I could never work out. It’s all a pretense, a game we are playing because it suits us. How can’t people see it? How can they buy the bullshit we are feeding them?
The answer is because we are good. Because we are both predators aiming for the top. We are a different breed, unscrupulous, morally deficient, merciless.
We win two paintings by the end of the evening, both paid for with my credit card, of course. One looks like someone has shat paint over the canvas, while the other one comprises pieces of wallpaper and magazines glued together into a ball. They are garbage, both of them. There is no technique, no skill involved.
“We’ll place those at the front, where Cecil’s stuff was,” Adam informs me as he waves one of the packaging people to give her the gallery’s address.
Cecil is the daughter of someone… I think maybe that insurance guy, what was his name, Diego? I don’t remember which art was hers, but clearly, we’ve sold it. “We actually sold that crap?”
Adam gives me a look, his green eyes unimpressed. “Last week, to a half-royalty from Saudi Arabia,” he clips. “Youwerethere.”
Was I? I jiggle my memory. Ah, I do remember the guy. He had too much jewelry hanging on his neck and hands. How does he even walk, isn’t it heavy?
Once we’ve sorted out the logistics of the two paintings, Adam drags me to the afterparty. Fortunately, there is hard alcohol there. I take to the bar and order a few glasses of whiskey on the rocks as I let him do his thing, observing the people around and wondering what the artist I can’t stop obsessing over is currently doing.
Is he painting? Does he have work tonight? Is he sleeping already? Or is he maybe thinking about me and wishing he could see me already?
A text wakes me up at nine in the morning. My head throbs from all the alcohol I consumed, but a painkiller thankfully fixes that problem. Stretching as I drape myself over the couch in the lounge in my boxers, I open the message. It’s from Daniel.
Daniel: I can’t stop thinking about yesterday…
I smile, heat flooding me.
Me: Me neither. You were such a good boy, taking me so well even though it was your first time. How are you feeling?
Daniel: Good. And…
I wait. A minute passes with no continuation. My nerves flare.
Me: And?
Daniel: I want you to train me again. Tonight.
Fuck. I grin at the phone, sucking in a breath as my cock perks up. Anything he asks me for, I’ll give him. He has that much power over me. But I can’t let him know that, not yet.
Me: I have to go out with Adam tonight.
I wait. How will he react?
