Happy Sunday, gentle reader!
I hope you all had a happy and fun-filled Fourth of July! Sadly the weekend is drawing to a close and tomorrow we’re back to the daily grind, but let’s make the best of this Sunday afternoon shall we?
Here’s a sample from Everything She Never Wanted, The Lust Diaries: Book Two. In this scene, Julian and Elijah are meeting for the first time and Julian has agreed to do a one of a kind portrait for Yves’s memoirs. Elijah purchases the portrait, thinking that it’s amazing gift to Yves, she thinks otherwise, but is quickly convinced of her misstep.
“So what do you need up front?” Elijah asked.
“The usual deposit of fifteen percent.”
Before I realized what he was doing, Elijah took out his wallet and counted out the bills from his own personal funds.
“Hey—” I protested.
He held up a finger to silence me. “And the rest to be paid at completion, I presume?”
“Just one second and I’ll get you a receipt,” Julian said.
When Julian was out of earshot, I pulled Elijah aside. “What are you doing? Why are you paying for this?”
“Don’t sweat it. It’s a gift,” he said, then gave me his best disarming smile.
I shook my head no. “We didn’t discuss this—”
“Later.” He shifted his attention to Julian who was approaching him with the receipt in hand. “So how long will this sitting last?”
“Usually an hour or so, but considering the urgency of this project I’m willing tah go longer.”
“Okay, before we get started, I just need to step outside and talk to Elijah for a minute.”
The two men shook hands again while I went out into the breezeway to wait for Elijah. I was trying hard not to be angry about this thing, but I couldn’t make sense of it. Why would he pay for the painting when I already decided that this was something I wanted to do for myself, for my book? We never discussed it, but I also never assumed that he would do something like this. Elijah came out, all smiles.
“That went well!” He pulled me into a hug that I couldn’t bring myself to return. I was too angry. After a moment, he became aware of my stiff posture and backed off.
“Why did you pay for the painting?”
“I told you. It’s a gift. Don’t sweat it.”
“This is not about me sweating it. This about you assuming responsibility for something that I didn’t ask you to do.”
Elijah sighed. “Look. You don’t have to play tough with me. You quit your job. I know you have to live off of your advance this year.”
“The fifty thousand dollar advance that is more money than I made in the last year? You make a lot of assumptions about me. One being that I need your help because I can’t handle shit on my own.”
He grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me away from Julian’s open doorway. Half a second pulsed between us when I feared he might slap me. The look in his eyes said he could. My racing heart pumped adrenaline to my extremities, preparing me for the worst.
Elijah did the exact opposite of what I was expecting. He clenched his jaw and pushed his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know why you would jump to this conclusion, but let me make my intentions clear. I know you came up rough. I know you’ve been struggling to make ends meet these last few years, surviving off of your words, and I wanted you to enjoy that money that you fucking earned. Now you shit on those honest and good intentions by accusing me of being domineering, which is not the same as being dominant. Not at all. It’s rude and inaccurate and you owe me an apology.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered quickly, feeling like a bratty little shit. I should have divined that those were his intentions instead of jumping to conclusions. God, why were all of my relationship expectations so twisted and warped?
He stepped closer, took one hand out of his pocket, and pushed it into my hair. “I know you can take care of yourself. You do it very well. Almost too well, in fact. It leaves me with little to nothing to do to show you how much I care for you.”
“I’m sorry. I thought…I don’t know what I thought.”
“It’s okay.” He glanced toward the doorway before brushing his lips across mine. “I can’t believe how beautiful you look in those portraits, Yvie.”
“Julian’s very talented.”
Elijah shook his head. “It’s more than that. The way he captured your expressions and the tension of the moment…”
“I know. I was awed by it too.”
“It might be hard to duplicate.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because it was his memory of the intimacy that you shared.” He frowned. “Can you do something for me?”
“Think of me while he’s sketching you. Think of me and what we shared this weekend and how close we were.”
He hadn’t made any deep admissions this weekend and neither had I, but this was the first time that closeness was acknowledged between us. A soaring giddiness rose in me.
“Then I want you to think of me and him fucking you. I want to see it like I saw your want for him in those paintings in there. I want to see this portrait and know that you’re thinking of the both of us having you.”
I frowned. “Are you serious?”
“You wouldn’t even ask me that if you saw what I saw in you that night.”
“Elijah, that is—”
He came at me hard. My head banged against the wall behind me while his tongue forced its way into my mouth with a rough, claiming kiss. He wasn’t touching me anywhere but my mouth but my body responded like his hands were under my clothes. I was still swooning when he pulled away.
“Call me to let me know how it goes, okay?”
“Okay,” I echoed in that sex-drunk voice that was becoming all too common for me.
I tried to gather myself as I watched him walk away. But watching his long-legged gait round the corner didn’t help much. How is this my life? The fine fucker I spent the weekend with just encouraged me to fantasize about being fucked by the young, gorgeous artist waiting for me inside. It felt too good to be true. I took a deep breath, pushed myself off the wall, and stepped into the doorway. Julian was inside, prepping camera and tripod. He looked up at me and smiled.
“I think so.”
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