Read Indigo [Try Pink Act Two] Online

Authors: Max Ellendale

Indigo [Try Pink Act Two] (8 page)

BOOK: Indigo [Try Pink Act Two]
ads

"I love you," I told her, sobbing once when tears wet my
lips.

"I know. And I love you, like I've never loved anyone
else." She closed the space between us and her kiss, endless and strong,
assured me, in not only her words, but of our healing. That no matter what, no
matter how much pain or torment, our coming together was all that counted. It's
all that we'd ever have and we'd both die to keep it.

 

Indigo

 

A gasp woke me the next morning though I wasn't sure who it
belonged to. My body rolled through waves of pleasure, arching and trembling
through the orgasm that it felt before my mind processed it. I gripped the
pillows, tearing at them through the onslaught of convulsive ecstasy as if
after going months without made up for lost time.

I dropped back on the bed, panting and gasping, and only then did
I feel Jilly's silky tongue lashing at me from under the covers. When I reached
down, I caught a fistful of her hair and held her to me. My sudden
consciousness only egged her on more. She yanked my hips down further, nudged
my legs wider, and took me again. I pushed the blankets aside so that I could
see her. Lusty, playful blue eyes met mine and I nearly laughed when her mouth
assaulted me. The tangled emotions only served to heighten my senses.

"Jilly," I moaned out her name when she drove me through
a second climax. Every part of me seemed to erupt into undying bliss that she
held me in for seconds longer than usual. When she finally released me, letting
me down easy with gentle laps against my core, I reached for her, panting
heavily. She kissed her way up my body, laughing softly most of the way until
she kissed me hard.

"So yummy," she said, nibbling my bottom lip. "I
missed that."

My cheeks heated and I imagined myself looking like a bashful tomato.
I covered my face and laughed through it. "Jilly."

"Yes, baby?" She kept chuckling at me and yanked my
hands away. "Can I help you?"

"No." I squeaked and she only laughed more. "That
was…"

"Hmm?" She perked, lifting her eyebrows and grinning.

"So good." I covered my face again and she cracked up,
grabbing me into a hug and kissing me all over my face.

"I'm glad. You were having a sexy dream so I figured you
needed a little help."

"I was not."

"Trust me, babe, you were."

"Jilly!" I shrieked and tickled the shit out of her. She
squealed and squirmed about, her face red with laughter until she grabbed my
hands, sitting up on my stomach.

"Tickling is
so
naughty," she said followed by,
"Tsk tsk."

"I can think of something naughtier." My grin nearly
matched hers as my eyes wandered up her naked torso. The life she had in her
this morning sent sparks of excitement through me.

"What?" Her brows lifted upward, leaving her eyes
sparkling with playfulness. I wiggled my hands free and grabbed her knees,
tugging her forward.

"Oh, you'll see," I said and she moved with my urging
until I could turn my head and kiss her thigh. Her entire body shuddered above
me and I smiled up at her. "You like that, do you?"

"
Yes
." Her teeth chattered when she said it so I
repeated the gesture. I kissed along the inner thigh of one leg, over her soft,
bare mound, then to her other leg and back again. Her already dampened core
radiated heat and desire as much as her facial expression. She gnawed on her
bottom lip and tilted her head back. I paused to watch her, letting my hands
caress from her neck, over her breasts, and down her legs. Every inch of her
shuddered under my touch but not in repulsion. She wasn't repulsed at all.
"Jess," she moaned out my name and looked down at me when I stopped.
Her brow furrowed and she nearly whined after. I laughed softly and she gave my
hair a tug.

"Is this naughtier?" I flicked my tongue over her
hardened nub. She twitched and gasped.

"Almost."

With that, I tugged her forward a bit more and slid beneath her,
taking her from under. She had no tentativeness this time when I took her,
devouring her how I used to, and how she taught me. I watched her grip the
headboard, and my body moved with her as she rocked against my mouth. Jilly was
without reserve, without restraint as we finally shared our lovemaking
together. Her hair draped around her shoulders in crimson waves that set fire
to my insides and reminded me of how much I loved to look at her.

She slipped and slid against me, dampening my lips further when
she cried out. Her orgasm erupted as violently as it had the first time, and
she bucked, hard and fast, as I left no part of her unattended. Once, twice,
and again until she heaved and gasped. I gripped her hips to prevent her from
tumbling and her body collapsed as she melted down on top of me. Her moaning
didn't cease until her face was buried against the nape of my neck and I held
her, both of my hands clasped on her firm rear. I kissed her shoulder, licking
and nipping afterward, until she took my earlobe between her teeth. A shiver
ran through me and she chuckled, her voice sounding husky and aroused.

"There's my Jilly," I whispered and she squeezed me
tight.

"Always your Jilly," she said, and it made me smile.

She fell asleep in my arms after that, a contented expression
smoothed her features as she snuggled into the pillows. I stroked her hair and
stayed with her until I was absolutely sure she was comfortable before I
slipped away, padding quietly across the hall to the box-filled loft. I didn't
know for sure what was in them but, knowing Jillian, I had my hunches.

I opened the smaller boxes first and found dozens of paint tubes.
Acrylics of all colors sat next to a set of oils. One by one, I unpacked the
boxes. An easel followed, then canvases, giant ones and smaller. Brushes,
linseed oil, and other thinners, and finally, an unassembled wooden stool that
matched the easel. I set everything out, staring at it after tossing the boxes
over the railing, and took a deep breath.

First, I built the stool which took all of ten minutes, then set
up the easel. With the mess I'd made, the loft began to resemble the studio
that Jillian imagined. By the time I'd filled a palette with paint, the blank
canvas in front of me seemed slightly less intimidating. Sometimes, the only
thing I saw in the white space was Jillian. My hesitation in painting her
portrait remained, so I brushed some blue paint and smeared it in a line down
the center. Red followed and before I knew it, I was making a giant mess of
color.

"What…are you doing?" Jilly said suddenly, startling me.
I chuckled a bit nervously and set the palette down.

"Just mixing," I said, wiping my paint-covered hand on
my shirt.

"Aw, honey, you made a blob." She hugged me from behind
a bit roughly and I laughed as I leaned into her. "Good job."

"It's an interpretive abstract. What do you see?" I held
on to her arms and she rested her chin on my shoulder, swaying side to side a
little.

"I see… purpley-blue. And you naked in bed, and me waking you
up with orgasms." I felt her cheeks lift into a smile.

"What else?" I continued to laugh softly while I
listened to her.

"An indigo sky and we're under it."

"Where?"

"Right…" She reached toward the canvas and poked her
finger in the middle of the paint. "There," she said, swiping at it
and making a streak. I squeaked a second later when she smeared it on my face.

"Jilly!" I swatted at her but it was no use. By the time
I broke free, she had a hand covered in paint and mashed it all over me. Her
face was red with raucous laughter but I wasn't far behind. I made for the
palette and globbed a good handful of paint. She shrieked and bolted around the
easel. I gave chase, both of us in hysterics by the time we hit the floor.

In that moment, I knew that our togetherness was no longer
bruised, but a cosmic mix of blues and purples that shaded our past and
informed our present. It swirled and morphed together like a melty Rorschach on
a hot day, turning our white, voided lives into a perfect indigo. The kind
that, even in the brightest rainbow, is hard to see. But when you do see it,
when you look close enough and hard enough and long enough, the indigo is the
most vibrant of all. It outshines the yellows and the pinks any day and I take
comfort in knowing that, even when I can't see it, it's always there.

 

ADS
15.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
READ BOOK DOWNLOAD BOOK

Other books

Pandora's Keepers by Brian Van DeMark
The Lunenburg Werewolf by Steve Vernon
Simple Simon by Ryne Douglas Pearson
Griffin of Darkwood by Becky Citra
Decision and Destiny by DeVa Gantt
Shadow of the Osprey by Peter Watt
A Lady's Point of View by Diamond, Jacqueline
Just a Wish Away by Barbara Freethy
Ghost Undying by Jonathan Moeller