Painting Sky (38 page)

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his time, Keith hadn’t given me any warning. I had no time to shower or put on a robe, like a professional would do. He rushed me upstairs and into the attic. The first thing I noticed were the covered paintings, as he’d left them from the last time. The bed was made, so maybe he’d expected me to come back here—or hoped, at least.

Keith turned on the small lamp on the floor and turned off the main one, like last time.

I hadn’t had enough to drink to take the edge off, so I was feeling very self-conscious in the middle of the room. Did he expect me to strip in front of him? He answered for me.

“Leave your underwear on, for now.” He turned to set up the material for the painting. Apparently, this time, he was going to use canvas and paint, instead of pencil.

I hurried up before he turned again: I didn’t want him to see the clumsy way I needed to jump on one foot to take off my skinny jeans. I didn’t know how people could make taking their clothes off sexy. I always made a spectacle of myself with jeans or stockings, and I had no idea how people took off skinny jeans without making fools of themselves. Keith turned and stopped for a second, eying me—or rather, my body. He had a way of looking at me that made me feel pretty, like I was more beautiful than his hook-ups.

“Sky.” His voice cracked and he tried again, this time looking around to avoid my eyes. “Can you sit on that stool, with one foot on the floor and the other leg bent with your right foot resting on the bench? Try to look relaxed.”

Yeah, right; that was easy for him to say. I fidgeted on the stool. There wasn’t much space for my butt and foot, but Keith came to me and helped by scooting me back and placing my heel on the stool. My other leg was slightly bent, so just my toes were touching the floor. I kind of felt sexy, but relaxed. I understood why he hadn’t asked me to strip naked or to sit on the bed: the atmosphere was sizzling too much to do so. The way he looked at me seemed different than the last time.

He did something unexpected, next. Just before he sat on the floor, where he placed the canvas on a box to draw me from a lower angle, he took his shirt off. Sure, it was warm in the room—he had turned the heating on right when we’d gotten home—but I suspected he had other reasons, like making me blush, or making my eyes shine and darken at the same time. His crooked smirk told me how right I was.

Keith needed to rush this painting, because the position was tiring. My leg fell asleep halfway through it. It took him almost an hour, and, just as I was about to beg him to hurry, he put the brush down and stared at the painting, tilting his head, like he’d done all through the sitting.

“Help me down. My leg fell asleep,” I said, not daring to move and risk falling on my head.

Keith jumped to his feet and rushed to my side, placing one arm under my knees and the other behind my back. I squealed when he lifted me up and moved me to the mattress. He got up to turn the canvas to us and sat beside me, pulling my sleepy leg over his. He started rubbing from my toes up to my thigh, while staring at the painting.

Everything seemed so automatic to him that I didn’t know if he realized what he was doing: touching me in a lot of places. At first, it hurt, because my leg was still tingling, but the massage quickly helped, and I almost jumped up when he spoke.

“What do you think?” He turned to face me, as if he was seeing me for the first time since the painting ended. He then looked to the canvas, and I realized I hadn’t even looked. I was so enthralled by him that the cause for my discomfort, just a few feet from us, had been long forgotten.

The painting was beautiful, but I’d never doubted him. He captured the shadows like an expert, as he always did. This time, however, the colors made everything more magical. Although I wore a simple white bra and matching panties, even the white against my skin looked sexy. He’d painted my hair in its bun, but I hadn’t noticed that a few stands had fallen over my face and neck. I looked kind of sleepy—kind of... turned on. Oh, that had been the exact reason he’d taken his shirt off. He’d wanted me to look at him like that. That could only mean he knew how I felt.

I tensed in his hold and he noticed. “What? What’s wrong?” It was freaking beautiful and perfect, and he saw me, Skylar Keaton—not plain Jane. His hands rested on my bare thigh, while he looked between his painting and me. A frown marred his beautiful face.

“Keith,” I said, my rough voice calling his attention to me. “It’s perfect.” His eyes shot to my lips.

He didn’t respond, but his attention shifted from the painting to me, and I couldn’t bear the stare. Instead, I started tracing his tattoos. Without conscious thought, I had leaned closer. He pulled me flush against him, leaving just enough space for me to keep tracing the dragon’s head on his shoulder.

“It’s so amazing, the way the artist captured its essence. I would love to have one, but I would never be able to decide on something I wanted inked on me forever.” Keith’s skin was warm and soft against my fingers.

“If you want, I can draw you one. I did mine.”

My eyes shot up to his, and surprise was evident on my face.

“No,” He chuckled, “I didn’t ink it. I sketched it on paper, and Fred did them. He’s the only one I’ll let near me with a needle. A tattoo needs to mean something. You just ink your body with something that touched your life.”

My fingers traced the dragon’s head and teeth, and I was about to ask what it meant, when my finger bumped a light scar on his shoulder, exactly where the dragon’s canine was sinking in and pulling at the skin. I knew without asking that this small, round scar was the reason for the enormous dragon hugging his torso. The question was on my lips, but Keith’s face shut down and he was pulling away from me emotionally, tensing under my touch.

“I won’t ask. Don’t end this just yet,” I whispered, letting my hand fall onto his back to lightly scratch him with my short nails. He almost purred at the touch and I brought my other hand around his neck to do the same. He relaxed again and shifted to pull me closer. I ended up straddling him, because that was the only way I could keep scratching his back. I felt him harden under me, but I tried not to squirm at the sensation.

“What is this?” he asked after what seemed like an eternity. His eyes were clouded and dark and his own fingers tightened above my hips, pulling me to him, even though there wasn’t an ounce of space between us as it was.

“I don’t know. I just don’t want it over yet. You feel good.” I guess that was both the wrong and right thing to say, because he groaned and pulled me against him with sorrowful eyes.

“Sky, we should stop,” Keith said without moving a muscle, except to grind against me again. I felt my own desire build up. If he kept going, I would end up embarrassing myself by coming just from sitting on his lap.

After a couple of minutes in silence, I leaned against his neck, resting my lips there. “I don’t want to.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “You don’t mean that. You want a rebound. I’m not the guy for that.”

I kissed his neck and ran my nose behind his ear, which smelled incredible from the cologne he’d put on earlier. His fingers dug into my skin and he pushed me back enough for me to face him.

I didn’t have an answer for him. He couldn’t know that the rebound had been meant to keep me from doing exactly this—he would run like the devil was chasing him. I didn’t answer, and, when I felt like he was about to end all of this and send me to my room, I kissed him.

I crushed my lips against his and he returned it with equal passion, pulling me against his warm skin. His tongue mixed with mine in a frenzied dance and I couldn’t get enough of him. I lifted myself up and sat back down even closer to his hard-on. He moaned my name and shifted to be on top of me. He was the one doing the grinding, now. It felt so good that I threw my head back and curved my body to meet his.

“Sky,” he pleaded, as if I was the key to his self-control. I had none, so I wouldn’t be able to help him out. My hands reached his neck so he wouldn’t talk, just kiss.

We made out for a while and it should’ve calmed us, but the more we kissed, the more I needed him—all of him. I’d never felt this way with Cody. Sure, we’d fooled around, but he had never ignited this desire for more. I needed it to feel complete—for my sanity.

“I want you, Keith. All of you.” His head jerked back so his eyes could fix on mine.

“You’re not thinking straight. You’ve been saving yourself. You deserve much more, Sky,” he said, as sadness poured from him. He’d hinted so many times before that he didn’t think he deserved me.

“I’ve been waiting for this. You want me, don’t you?” I asked, sheepishly, as self-doubt grew inside me. I felt his attraction, but maybe that was just a reaction to the half-naked girl on top of him.

His smile was shy and sad and he leaned forward to touch his forehead to mine. “Like a man wants water in the freaking desert—but that’s not the point. You deserve more. You just want me because I’m here. I can make you feel good and end at that.” While he spoke, his hand reached the latch on my bra and unhooked it, letting the fabric fall from my body.

He wouldn’t be seeing me for the first time, but I still felt unsure. He was used to slimmer girls with big assets—nothing like me. His eyes darted down and the gleam there destroyed any doubt. He liked what he saw. He kissed my neck and licked down my body, lingering at my breasts for a while.

When I started squirming, he stopped, and I gave him a disappointed groan. Keith chuckled, but looked at me, maybe asking for permission to slip my panties off. I lifted my butt from the mattress as an answer and the gleam in his eyes intensified. The unsure feeling was back, but it didn’t stay long.

I was extremely turned on, and Keith’s hand moved between my legs almost immediately. He didn’t need any more reassurance that I wanted him there. I came quickly as his fingers played with me, and his smirk was quick to show.

“Someone was eager.” He kissed my stomach and slid up to my face. He kissed me again, slower and sweeter. I didn’t really want sweet right then, though. I might’ve come already, but I wasn’t done. I still felt wound tight.

I whispered to the silent room, “I want you. Please.” I wasn’t beyond begging. I understood then why girls couldn’t control themselves around him.

“Sky, you don’t mean that.” He saw my complaint coming and cut me off. “Say what you like about me, and then we’ll see.”

I searched around in my foggy brain for words that could describe what I felt right then, but I came up empty. I tried for trivial things, instead. “You’re hot, you’re gorgeous, you make me melt with your kisses, and you have incredible fingers.” I smiled, but was faced with an annoyed Keith. He pulled away from me and I clung to his shoulders. “What?” I asked, not understanding.

“Everyone feels that way with me. I wanted to know why it would be different with us. I guess it isn’t.”

He was the one feeling self-conscious, now. I understood exactly what he meant. He’d told me before that girls also used him—it wasn’t just the other way around. He felt that I was being one of them.

I pulled him tighter against me. “You know you mean much more than those superficial compliments. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. You’re always worried about me, my brother, and even yours. You are an amazing cook,” I smiled when I felt him relax. “If I’m not careful, I’ll end up gaining weight here.”

I paused, because the list was still missing the biggest reason.

“And you see me—the real me. You’re the only one. You see my doubts about art, about myself, and about my parents’ approval. You see the loneliness and the girl who never fit in anywhere. You see me, and I think I’m starting to see you: the broken boy, searching for his own place in the world, who had been ignored by his father and who feels shadowed by his brother. You jump from girl to girl, looking for the one who will touch your heart. You drown in your work to fill the void. You dropped everything to take care of your dying grandfather.”

I wanted to say much more, because I had much more to say, but my chest felt heavy. His eyes shone with more than passion—my intention hadn’t been to make him cry. He stared, and, after what seemed like an eternity, his mouth crushed against mine in a heated and frenzied kiss. I knew I had him. I needed to be sure about this, or we’d both part, hurt. There was no turning back.

His clothes were on the floor when he stopped and turned to me. “Are you sure? We can stop whenever you want. Just say the word.”

I nodded and smiled at him. I wanted him to be into this, too—I didn’t want him to just be doing me a favor. He relaxed and leaned over the mattress to the bedside box and fished out a couple of condoms. He stared at them for too long, making me chuckle.

“I don’t think they have instructions.” I teased. Things were becoming too real, too fast.

He returned to me and nuzzled my neck. “I was checking the expiration date, smartass. I’ve never brought a girl up here.” I was divided between feeling special that I was the first one he’d brought up here and feeling crushed that there had been other girls—something I knew too well.

He put the condom on and was over me again. I might’ve been holding my breath, because he stopped and looked me in the eyes. “Are you sure, Sky? You can’t go back from this.” I didn’t know, at this point, if he was asking for me, or for him. Keith was all I wanted in the world right then, though.

I kissed him back and he slowly entered me. I was waiting for the pain the girls at school had described. I knew it wouldn’t be good the first time, but it wasn’t that bad. For the first couple of minutes, it stung, but I quickly recovered, and the pleasure was more evident than any pain. Keith was moving slowly and he lifted his head to look into my eyes. I felt so at ease, as if this was where I was supposed to be: in his arms. His eyes met mine and I knew I wasn’t just a notch in his belt. He felt this, too.

“You feel too good. I’m not gonna last, baby.” The term of endearment melted my heart.

“Let go. Don’t hold back,” I said, digging my fingertips into his neck. He shut his eyes and leaned against my neck, murmuring my name as he came. My heart swelled with pride. I had done this. I had made him lose control like this.