She Shouldnt, But She Will (2 page)

Thia grinned. “I see what you mean. He looks awfully young to have such a view of women.”

“Not so young.” Fran shrugged. “Not so old, either. He’s forty-two. Old enough to have some experience and young enough to know how to use it to make a woman happy.” She sighed with appreciation, and Thia did the same.

“He likes to greet people and make sure they know where his work is hanging, so he’s probably near the front door if you’re looking for him.” Fran leaned forward and confided, “Don’t tell him you bought the paintings or he’ll think you did it to get to him.”

“Thanks.” Smiling, Thia picked up a glass of wine and casually wandered toward the front of the gallery, pretending an interest in a few other paintings she saw along the walls. She hadn’t picked up a stranger since she’d been a teen, but based on July’s description of Aaron—and the wicked grin on her face when she’d promised Thia would have a good time—Thia was prepared for a hot night. If Aaron couldn’t deliver, maybe Derek would.

Was that the way men thought of women when they went to bars? If one didn’t work out, another would do just as well for a night of fun? She’d always hated the feeling of being inspected, but now she pushed the guilt of doing the same thing from her mind. She deserved tonight, damn it.

Finally, just as Fran predicted, she found Derek near the front door greeting patrons of San Francisco’s avant-garde art world.

She inched her way to his side. “Derek, your paintings are fantastic. They really stirred my emotions and pulled me into the scene. I thought I was there, watching what was happening to the slave girl.”

“I’m glad you like them. Do you think you might want to acquire one?”

“I’ve already spent my discretionary money for this month.” She looked up through her lashes and sighed.

“I understand. It makes me ecstatic to hear that someone appreciates my work. I’m proud of what I do, but I think most people buy my paintings because the colors match their furniture rather than because they enjoy the subject matter.” Grinning, he added, “Which is okay since money also makes me happy. Do you live in San Francisco?” Placing a hand at her lower back, he guided her along an aisle where there were fewer people.

“Yes, over near
Fort
Mason
. I love San Francisco. I don’t think I’d like living anywhere else as much. Do you live near here?”

“My studio is on

A couple stopped nearby. Derek looked at them then turned back to Thia with a question in his eyes.

“Go ahead. I’ll look around and you can find me when you’re free again.”

“Thanks, this won’t take long.”

Thia walked around, drinking wine, smiling, making small talk. Each time she looked at one of the other paintings, though, her mind returned to Derek’s works. They stirred something deep inside her. If his art did, surely the artist would stir even more. The other paintings on display just confirmed the depth of Derek’s talent. She smiled to herself. His paintings were the only ones that made her horny.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t get your name.”

She turned to face the voice she already knew belonged to the man who had captured her imagination. “Thia,” she told Derek.

“Short for Cynthia?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Thia, someone bought all of my pieces.” He looked down at her with a twinkle in his eye. “Do you have any idea who it might have been?”

“Why do you think I would know?” She hid a smile.

“When I asked Fran, she said a beautiful woman picked them up right away. Since I’m looking at a beautiful woman with a smile indicating a secret…”

Thia laughed. “Busted.”

With a sheepish expression, he shook his head. “She probably told you not to tell me, too.”

“Something like that.”

“I’m sorry. She thinks I should get out more and I’m always analyzing people’s motives. However, you seem to have a good understanding of the work, so I’m glad you got them.”

“That’s interesting. My assistant feels I don’t get out enough too. She fixed me up with a blind date I was supposed to meet here. That was him on the phone earlier, explaining why he couldn’t make it.”

Derek leaned down. “His loss.”

She felt her cheeks flush.

“It’s nice to have friends who care, but at my age I almost wish they cared a little less,” he confided.

“I know exactly how you feel,” she said.

“Do you want more wine?”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Do you don’t mind hanging around a bit longer?” He glanced around at the remaining crowd.

“Not at all. See to your business.”

He flashed her a smile, caressed her arm and left. That’s how it went throughout the evening. Derek guiding people to his paintings and Thia mingling, watching as he worked. As the ebb and flow of people changed, they came together, each time a bit closer until she recognized his aftershave and turned before hearing his voice.

As the hour got later, the crowd thinned. She heard Derek tell a woman since his work had sold out, he could give her a private showing of other works. Not before you give me one, she thought, moving to him instead of waiting for him to come to her. The woman took his card and promised she’d be in touch.

“Thia, I don’t think we’re going to get many more people tonight. Would you like to get a cup of coffee?”

“Do you think the wine has gone to my head?” she teased.

His lips curved up. “Not so much, but I’m not ready to go home and there’s a Starbucks a couple blocks down

She tipped her head in agreement. “Coffee would be nice.”

Derek called out goodnight to Fran and led Thia into the night. The air was cool and damp, thanks to the fog rolling in.

“Do you have more paintings like the ones you showed tonight?”

“Yes.” He placed his hand on the small of her back. “Fran asked me to join this exhibit because she needed a few more works to balance out the opening. I only brought enough to fill the space she had available.”

“May I see them sometime?”

He studied her as though trying to decide something. Then he spoke. “I have coffee at my studio. If you like we can go there.”

She didn’t know Derek, but she’d come out tonight thinking the long intermission of having only a vibrator between her legs might end. Even if she didn’t have sex with Derek, she’d still have an interesting time. If they did have sex, well, she had a feeling being shot out of a cannon wouldn’t compare. There was just something about him.

“I’d like to see your studio.”
What the hell am I doing?

“Did you drive?”

“No.”
There’s still time to back out.

“I’ll flag us a cab.” In a matter of minutes they were in the back of a city taxi, leaving behind bright city lights and moving into the darker, shadowy streets of warehouses and lofts. They stopped before a metal door covered with iron scrollwork in front of a long brick building.

“Here we are. It’s not the best part of town, but the old American Can building has large, reasonably priced spaces and is secure.”

Inside, they took the elevator to the top floor. After they entered Derek’s studio, Thia watched him use his key to lock the deadbolt and then put the key in his pocket.

Was this a mistake?
Well, duh.

She wanted to walk on the wild side, but she also wanted to be alive in the morning. “You aren’t going to hurt me are you?”

“I hadn’t planned on it, but I’m open. What did you have in mind?” He smiled as he stepped into a kitchenette and prepared the coffee pot.

“Nothing.” She sighed. “It’s the wine.”

He measured grounds into the filter and poured bottled water into the pot. “They don’t allow people to actually live in the building, but I spend so much time here they may think I do. Don’t take this the wrong way but I can’t imagine that suit is all that comfortable. There are some robes my models wear in the changing room if you’d like to get out of it.”

Derek pushed the right buttons to turn on the coffee pot. And her.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” He quirked his brow and gave her a feral smile. “I like women in as few clothes as possible.”

Hot damn!
She hoped the smile she sent back looked as seductive as she felt. “Then I’ll be right back.”

In a large bathroom, she found all kinds of cosmetics aligned by the sink. Large, bright make-up lights surrounded the mirror. Chenille robes hung behind the door and two were folded on a shelf. Thia stripped to panties, stockings and heels, fluffed her hair, checked her lipstick, and gave herself an appraising once-over.
Not bad, not bad at all.

Staring into the reflection of her eyes she knew a moment’s hesitation.
I shouldn’t be doing this, I really shouldn’t. But…

She picked up a folded red robe and slipped into it before going out to beard the lion in his den. The robe covered her legs to about mid thigh.

She was pleased with the appreciation in Derek’s eyes when he saw her.

“The robe looks good on you. Here’s your coffee, and here’s a book that shows part of my collective works.”

“Thank you.” Thia sipped the coffee while standing at the table. She turned the pages, examining each picture. Many of them were sensual, a few were hot and sexy. The more she looked, the more she wished she had something cold to drink instead of the coffee.

Suddenly, there was real heat coming from behind her. Derek stepped close and put one hand on her waist while he looked over her shoulder. “What do you think of that one,” he said, pointing to the picture of a dark haired woman touching herself.

“It’s, well, it’s erotic.” Thia studied it, then whispered. “I can almost feel her orgasm.”
Damn! Why did I say that?

He slid his hand along her waist, ending over her stomach. He pulled her tighter against him. “I’m glad. That’s the goal of anyone who paints, you know, to make the viewer feel what the painting expresses.”

His erection pressed against her butt and Thia worried suddenly that she might get what she’d gone there for. Not that Derek might fuck her—God, she wanted him inside her in the worst way
—
but that she might not live up to his expectations. She didn’t have much experience.

With effort, she tamped down her insecurities. “Well, you did an excellent job, then, because um, what she’s feeling comes through very well.”

“Thanks.” Derek’s other hand smoothed over the chenille to meet his first hand at her waist. He dipped his head to nuzzle the small spot of skin above the collar of the robe.

The warmth of his breath sent shivers down her spine and heat straight to her pussy. With a shaky hand she set her cup beside the photo album and then leaned into him.

He untied the belt and slid his hands against the bare skin of her stomach. “You’re so soft.” His mouth against her ear, the low rumble of his voice rolled through her.

Taking a deep breath, which not only gave her courage but plumped her breasts, she shucked off the robe.

Message received, his hands skimmed up her torso to massage her breasts. She moaned her feelings out on a sigh. Her nipples pebbled against his palms and her skin absorbed the fire coming from his lips, his mouth, and then his teeth as he nipped the skin on her shoulder.

Her thoughts ran wild.
Ohgod, ohgod! I shouldn’t be here, I should have used common sense.

Turning, she edged onto the table and let him look. His eyes homed in on her nipples, and then he gave her a long, slow smile.

“Perfect,” he said.

She tried to smile back. “Am I?”

“Oh, yes.” Without shifting his gaze, he pulled his shirt out from his waistband and unbuttoned it. He unzipped his trousers. The bulge hiding just beneath the material was unmistakable.

When he lowered his trousers and briefs, her heart leapt, her breath quickened. He was thick and long. Pre-cum glistened on a large reddened crown that topped several inches of red-veined shaft. A rich thatch of blond hair bristled around the base. He was beautiful, vibrant, strong, and she had to have him inside her.

Before she could say a word he stood naked before her.

Bracing her hands behind her on the table, she lifted her hips, allowing him to pull her panties down. For a brief moment, he stared at her bush. Already the scent of arousal filled the air.

“Leave on your stockings and shoes.”

Thia nodded.

“Lie back.”

He came forward to pull her close to the edge. Little did he know she was already there emotionally. His arms slid under her thighs, giving support at the same time they spread her impossibly wide. The fur of hair on his stomach mixed with her curly pubic hair. His fingertips stretched far enough to nudge her elbows, and she placed her hands beside her head.

Fiery hot, his mouth nibbled at her breast. His tongue swirled around her nipple and flicked it hard. He gave the same treatment to her other breast and she flung her head back, arching her back, offering him all she had.

Like a trail of fire, his kisses traced down her stomach. She almost shot off the table when his tongue lapped her labia before circling her clitoris. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she held him in place, not wanting him to stop. Her mind was awash with sensation as his tongue flicked down to the entrance to her pussy.

“Oh, my God, please. It’s been so long.”

Her plea seemed to fall on deaf ears. He took his time, plunging his tongue into her passage and pulling out. In and out, in and out, in and out, in a relentless drive.

His thumb pressed her clit, making firm little circles on her nub, throwing her into orbit. Her head twisted side to side. No rational thought penetrated her senses, only the need to feel, to let go, to—

She sucked in a breath and held her body still. Tremors shook her. Her pussy quivered and flooded with moisture. She was lost but he kept on, lapping, rubbing, caressing, until she thought she’d never stop coming.

Finally, he raised his head. She looked down the length of her body to see his glazed eyes peering back. While she watched, his tongue swiped and cleared the cream surrounding his mouth as though he’d just enjoyed the finest meal ever.