Becoming His Muse, Complete Set (19 page)

“I don’t want to, but it’s a secret from everyone. Or it
was
.”

“Look, you wanna play with fire, that’s your business. I don’t really know what all you girls see in the guy.” Jonathan drops his pants now and stands Greek-god-like in his boxers. He hops up onto the platform but I don’t even have my canvas on my easel yet.

Looking down on me, he says, “Though I damn well know why he wants to mess around with you, Ava. You sounded
hot
last night.” He gives me a long, cool stare and I feel a new blush rising for a very different reason. I give my head a shake. This is Jonathan, my best friend’s ex-boyfriend. I will him not to flirt with me.

“Ruby,” I say. “She’s okay?”

“Sleeping soundly with an empty stomach. I’ll check on her again after this. How do you want me?” He poses with his arms flexed, body-builder style. “Like this? Or this?”

He plays around on the platform as I set up and try to think about what I want to do with him this morning. Painting-wise. He’s got my mind swimming in all directions with his recent revelation that he heard me outside Mick’s. Did anyone else? It freaks me out to think that. But even more disturbing is this tiny flicker of excitement, of having been almost caught in public. I hear it’s not an uncommon fantasy, but I didn’t think it was one of mine. I just wanted Logan so much last night. Was that desire more piqued because I couldn’t have him to myself then? Because I had to steal a few moments in the dark outside? The more I think about it, the more arousing is the idea of seducing him in some other public place. But where? I’m feeling damp and tingly. I have to get my mind on my work.

Jonathan’s doing yoga poses now. Warrior 2 and Triangle pose. At least he’s keeping warm while I set up.

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you? About last night?” I squeeze out generous amounts of Cadmium Red, Yellow Ochre, Titanium White and a touch of Ivory Black. I will be painting a lot of skin this morning.

“I can keep a secret, Ava. Don’t worry,” says Jonathan.

He slips out of his boxers now. I can’t help it; my breath catches.

“And if you ever need other forms of secret inspiration… Just let me know.”

He stretches out in a perfect half-reclined position, staring off into the distance in all his gorgeous glory. I rein in a few inappropriate thoughts and then I dip my brush in a gob of paint and get to work.

Jonathan’s right. I can’t keep a secret this big from Ruby.

After my classes I swing by her dorm room. She’s looking pale and in need of a hair wash.

“Hey, Ava, come on in.” She climbs back into her rumpled bed sheets. “Thanks for the visit. Jonathan just left. Hope it wasn’t too much of a surprise that he showed up this morning instead of me. But as you see, I’m a bit of a mess.”

“Crap about being sick. Can I get you anything? Ginger ale, saltines?”

She points to her tiny bar fridge. “Jonathan already took care of that.”

“Speaking of Jonathan, he was kind of weird this morning. Kind of flirty.”

Ruby shrugs. “He’s sexually frustrated. My fault I guess. I already told you I don’t care if you two hook up. You could ease each other’s frustrations.”

“Um, yeah. About that.” I need to tell her about Logan, but not right away. I have to put in a good word for Jonathan. It’s the least I can do. “Thing is, I think Jonathan thought you two might get back together last night.”

She smirks. “Turns out the idea of that literally turns my stomach.”

“Rubes, that’s awful.” I swat her duvet-covered knee.

“You know I don’t mean it. It was bad timing last night, but good timing too, I guess. It would complicate matters if we hooked up again.” She looks away for a second and then looks back with a sly grin. “I’m kind of seeing someone. But you can’t tell anyone!”

It’s as if she’s stolen my line. “Who?”

“This guy from my lit class, you know, the one I broke the Jonathan-seal with?”

“Him?”

“Not him. That was just a one-time thing. But he took me to this club that night and there was this bouncer who worked there and he was really cute and I ran into him at Subway the other day and we swapped numbers and, you know, we’re exploring some options…”

I swat her again. “That’s the most evasive euphemism I’ve heard from you in a long time.”

“Okay so we’re fucking each other’s brains out. There!”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“You’ve seemed so preoccupied with your art stuff and we haven’t hung out as much lately. It’s only been a couple of weeks though, and honestly, it’s been kind of fun having a secret.”

I play around with the zipper on my bag. “Actually, I have a secret too.”

“Don’t tell me. You
have
hooked up with the J-man!” She’s got a funny smile on her face, as if this type of secret would make her really happy or really miserable.

I shake my head. “It’s Logan O’Shane.”

“What about him?”

“It’s him. We’re… you know.”

It takes her a minute to compute. “No! Way! You’re fucking
his
brains out?” At first she’s grinning at having figured it out but then her expression scrunches up with concern.

“What about his fiancée, Ava?”

“He made that up. It isn’t true.”

“Really? He was just messing with us?”

“To keep the hounds at bay,” I laugh.

“Didn’t work very well,” she says, laughing along with me, but soon she stops.

“Still, isn’t it all a bit… delicate? I mean, he’s a prof. What if you get caught?”

“That’s why it’s a
secret
.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have told me.”

“But I wanted to. I can trust you. And Jonathan knows now, too.”

She looks hurt for a second. “You told him before me?”

“Of course not. He heard us outside Mick’s last night.”

A deep brow furrow turns into a wide-open gaze of realization. “Ohhh…That’s why you were gone so long.”

I nod.

“Damn, Ava. That’s kind of dangerous, isn’t it?” But she doesn’t linger on the illicit for long. “So was it good? Sounds hot! Omygod, what’s it like with him? He’s not making you do anything you don’t want to do, is he? I mean, things get pretty raunchy in some of his books. Don’t let him treat you like some whore.”

“He tells me I’m his muse.”

“Huh. Cool. That’s really sweet actually. So maybe you will go down in literary history just like I said.” She seems pleased now.

“It’s been incredible so far. Truly. No more sexual frustrations, apart from the ones that come from wanting someone so bad. That and having to pretend nothing’s happening.”

She nods knowingly.

“But it’s kind of all consuming, too, and it’s actually distracting me from my art. Just a bit. At the same time, I’m inspired, too. I’m just not as productive as I’d like to be.”

“Is he? Is the muse thing working out for him?”

“I guess.” I thought of last night and how he took all that sexual energy back to his novel instead of giving it to me. Not that I wasn’t left feeling satisfied. That had been one delicious orgasm. Witnessed by Jonathan no less.

“Poor Jonathan,” says Ruby all of a sudden. “We’re both gettin’ it good and he’s pining away by himself.”

“Are you going to tell him about this bouncer guy?”

“Dale? No, not yet.”

“Good. Don’t. It would break his heart right now.”

“I know. If this thing lasts until Thanksgiving I’ll tell him then.”

“Are you going to your Aunt’s for the break?”

She nods. “You going home? Dumb question. Your parents would never let you skip out on holidays.”

“They’ll be disappointed you won’t be there.”

“Grieving Aunts come first.” She sighs.

We agree to keep each other’s secrets. I swear Ruby to secrecy forever plus a day, while she tells me to keep her fling on the down low till she breaks the news to Jonathan. Soon after I leave so she can get back to resting.

I wonder if I should tell Logan that I’ve confessed our secret to my two friends, but then I decide against it. I know I can trust Jonathan and Ruby, and shouldn’t a muse have a few secrets of her own?

I’m not sure if I should tell Logan I’ve confided in my friends. It might make him nervous. It kind of makes me nervous. I also wonder if he’s told anyone, so when I sneak into his apartment later that night, I beat around the bush to see what he says.

“It’s a stupid rule,” I say, taking the glass of wine he hands me. “The other profs must think it’s a joke. Don’t they?”

He shakes his head as he pours himself a glass of wine. “They take it seriously because they don’t want to lose their jobs. It’s the kind of allegation that threatens tenure. But some of them think it’s overkill.”

“Do you all talk about it much?”

He gives me a sidelong glance. “Sure, we all sit around during staff lunch taking about the nubile young students we’d like to fuck. Female professors included. You wouldn’t believe how many times your friend Jonathan’s name comes up.”

My eyes widen. Logan smirks. “I’m
kidding
, Ava. Geesh. This is college. Ninety percent of the profs are so uptight I don’t think they’ve had sex in over a decade.”

He settles onto the couch beside me.

“What about Dr. T?”

I watch Logan’s profile. He squints in thought. “No, I’m pretty sure he’s had sex within the last ten years.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s not what I meant. What are his thoughts on the policy? Have you told him about us?”

“You know he’s not a rule breaker. And you made me promise not to tell him, remember? Not that I would anyway. I won’t tell anyone. You won’t either will you?”

I bite my bottom lip and tell myself Jonathan and Ruby don’t count. They are my best friends and would never betray me.

“You look like a spoiled child when you do that,” says Logan, pressing his thumb against my bottom lip to separate it from my teeth. I open my mouth to bite his thumb.

“Maybe I am,” I say with a mock pout. “Maybe I need a spanking.”

Logan’s eyes flash and honestly I have no idea where that thought came from. I’m rather surprised I said that, though the look in his eyes is proving worth the risk. I take his thumb further into my mouth and start sucking.

“Maybe you do,” he whispers hoarsely. He hooks his thumb against my bottom teeth and draws me closer to him. At the same time, he leans in until his lips are a few inches from mine. I smell his wine-scented breath. My tongue is still dancing around his thumb as he withdraws it. My tongue follows and he catches it with his lips, drawing it into his mouth, where it tastes his wine, his breath, his desire. The kiss is long and deep and hungry. His hand, with its damp thumb, is in my hair, at the back of my head, grabbing tightly. We kiss madly, deeply. I’m afraid I’m going to tip my wine glass. I try to pull away. He lets me. His breathing is heavy and ragged. His hand falls from my hair.

“Ava, what am I going to do with you?” he whispers softly as he shakes his head.

I take a deep gulp of my wine before setting it on the coffee table. Then I curl my knees under myself so that I’m slightly higher than he is on the couch. I tousle up my hair, finishing the job he started, and then I lower my lids so they are heavy over my brown eyes and I lick my lips, tasting wine again. I match his intense green gaze, and without blinking say,

“Everything. Logan, I want you to do
everything
.”

I tilt my head down to kiss him, but my words seem to have had a strange effect. He slips away from me, setting his glass is on the coffee table now, which he’s now pushing away from the couch, carefully, so as not to spill the wine.

“Don’t move,” he says to me, and then he leaves the room. I wonder if I’ve done something wrong, gone too far, been too bold. I think the keeping of secrets, the sneaking around, the small lies, have made me feel more daring. I thought he might like that. I thought that might be appropriate for a muse. Maybe I was wrong.

He’s back now, without his shirt. He slaps a small packet on the pushed away coffee table. I glance at the foil square, make out 3 little letters penned on the side. I smile.

“Now what were you saying you want me to do,” he growls as he tugs at his belt.

I look up at him, feeling a little more timid. “Anything?” I gulp. “Everything.”

His green eyes are dark and sexy and there’s a look in them like a fire that refuses to be extinguished. He walks over, stands in front of me. I kiss his taut belly as I start to pull his pants from his hips, but he grabs my hands, lifts them away, and pushes my wrists against my shoulders, which tips me off balance.

“Lean back,” he says. Then he bends over to kiss me, urging me backward until I’m lying on the couch lengthwise and he’s on top of me. He’s kissing me like we’re high school teens afraid to go past first base. Only we’re not, on both counts. I feel his hard length through the denim he wouldn’t let me remove. My exercise clothes are softer, easier to slip under, and soon we’re at second base. I arch my back so he can undo my bra and I feel it slip away. He rolls my nipples between his fingers roughly and then roams lower, to my waistband. Twisting his wrist, he’s under the stretchy fabric and wriggling beneath the bit of lace blocking third base. His fingers slip and slide because as soon as I saw him with shirt off I’ve been wet and aching for a home run.

All this time he’s kissing me relentlessly. My lips are swollen and getting raw but I don’t want him to stop. It’s a crazy feeling, all this desire. His fingers plunge into me. I moan and arch my back. My fingers rake across his shoulders and down. I grind against his fingers and push into his teasing erection. I try to push his pants away, but can’t quite reach. I feel almost on the brink of coming when he pushes up and away from me. His lips are swollen, too. He pushes his wet fingers into his mouth and sucks. All the while, his eyes don’t leave mine.

“You were spoiled as a child, weren’t you, Ava?”

I nod. Compared to him, I was.

He pulls my pants off. Kneeling over me, he starts fingering me again. I rock my hips, imploring him to go deeper. His mouth quirks up into a teasing smile. He stops.

“What’s it like to get everything you want?” he whispers.