Brush Strokes (5 page)

Joe waited for her, never moving. No
explanation. No apology.

The moment her lips caressed his, she
realized her lesson in taste had begun.

Chapter Four

Joe didn’t know how else to
kiss her. He watched her lips, the swipe of her pink tongue and
gave in to his desires. Thoughts of
coward
stole through his mind, but he
ignored them. So what if he took advantage of her closed eyes to
press his luck? If she acted repulsed in the least, he would back
up without a second thought. But, oh thank you God, Tanya leaned
forward, molding her mouth against his.

Her lips pressed to his, her breath
mingling with his. It sent all traces of doubt, all apprehension
skittering away. He wanted to lose himself in that kiss. Drown in
her embrace.

He parted her mouth gently, teasing
his tongue over her softness, pushing gently inside. He would
devour her with his need if he could. Only the knowledge that he'd
sworn to himself he wouldn’t rush her forced him to keep his hands
at his sides, to not press himself harder against her. Yesterday
they’d gone farther than either intended. Every new day with her
brought unexpected erotic surprises, but he wanted so much more
from her. Not just an orgasm. Not even mind-blowing sex. At the end
of it all, he wanted Tanya.

He didn’t know how she felt about
dating men outside her race and he'd been too timid to ask. He
assumed—more like hoped—it wouldn’t be an issue for her. The soft
little moan that vibrated into his mouth gave him a little hope
that maybe it wasn’t. And that was so very, very good.

She drew back a little and his heart
sank. He opened his eyes to find hers less than an inch away. In
them, he found a smile waiting. Her full lips echoed her amusement.
“Taste, huh?”

It took his mind almost a full minute
to return to the land of reality and realize he was supposed to be
engaged in a conversation and not just savoring the taste of his
artist. “Uh,” he cleared his throat, “yeah. You describe food well,
but that’s not what you paint, is it?”

Her gaze dropped to his lips. “No, it
isn’t,” she murmured and brought her mouth to his.

She kissed his bottom lip first. Then
the top. Her mouth traveled to each corner of his, pressing a
whisper of a kiss on each side. She touched her lips to his nose,
to each eyelid. Tanya learned his face, explored him through
velvety contact. She traced the frame of his hairline, nibbled on
each earlobe. She tasted...oh how she tasted him.

As much as he enjoyed her attention,
he forced himself to find some semblance of control. He brought his
hands to her arms and tugged until she stopped honoring him with
her precious caresses. “You’re supposed to be telling me what you
taste.”

Her moist mouth lifted at both
corners. As always, his spirit soared at the sight. She elevated
herself on her knees, facing him. “I forgot,” she said with a
shrug. “I’d better start over.”

Tanya kissed him again, a long,
passionate sweep that used her tongue, her teeth. He had the vague
sense she indeed tasted him, memorized how he felt against her. By
the time she stopped, the tight confines of his jeans strangled his
growing erection.

“
I taste apples,” she said
matter of factly.

She brought her hand to his face, used
a thumb to wipe his lip. He dropped a quick peck onto it. “What
else?”

Her head tilted as she pondered it.
“Mmm...maybe a trace of bananas.”

“
You tasted more than my
mouth. What else?”

She rose higher, touched her tongue
against his hairline before dropping again. A twinkle sparked in
her eyes. “Soap, there.” A shiver stole down his back when her
fingers stroked his jaw, his ears. She added, “And something more
than soap here. Probably aftershave or shaving cream you failed to
wipe away.”

He canted his head when she touched
the pulse in his neck. His eyelids fluttered close, the glide of
her touch heating him through despite her cool palm pressing there.
She used both hands to trace the outline of his Adam’s apple, his
throat tightening against the impulse to snatch her hands away,
roll her beneath him and make her come, screaming his name, by any
means possible. Instead he bore the torture, his jaw clenching
tight during his struggle to remain still.

This was killing him.

Tanya hummed a soft noise when she
kissed first one side and then the other side of his neck. She used
her tongue on his skin, the lick too brief, too stimulating for his
roiling senses. His dick grew impossibly harder, as if a direct
line connected it to where her moist caresses seared a memory onto
his skin.

“
And there? What do you
taste?” How he managed to speak over his dry throat, he’d never
know.

“
You know what’s
odd?”

“
Hmm?”

“
This side”—she dragged her
tongue along his neck—“tastes different from this side.”

He smiled, another shiver overtaking
him. Men weren’t supposed to shiver from a woman’s touch, but there
it was. He shivered. “Are you sure you're not just finding excuses
to take this tasting thing a little further?”

This time she laughed, a sound that
never failed to make his heart do a somersault. “No, really! One
side tastes different from the other.”

“
Different how?”

She frowned. “One side is clean, kind
of like you just stepped out of the shower. It's almost tasteless
in fact. But this one,” she said, touching the area she indicated,
“it’s a little headier. If I had to define masculine as a taste,
it’s right here.”

“
Are you calling me
dirty?”

Quick as a flash, she replied, “Baby,
I knew you were dirty from the second you suggested this little
technique of yours.”

“
But it’s
working.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it’s
working.”

His heart pounded a little faster. “I
wonder if you have two distinct tastes on opposite sides of your
body.”

The look she exhibited suggested she
knew exactly where he was headed with this line, but played along
anyway. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

“
I guess,” he murmured
before his mouth descended on hers.

Rational thought fled his mind the
longer he tasted her, kissed her. His sole purpose, the only drive
his body wanted to recognize was the primal urge to be with Tanya
at the most fundamental level. He’d seen her angry, as well as
joyous. He’d been there with her when she'd received disappointing
news that her art didn't meet the standards for a new gallery. He’d
seen the light in her eyes when her creativity took over and there
was no place on earth she would have rather been than in front of
her easel.

He brought forth these memories and
somewhere in the back of his mind, wanted and hoped that he’d be
the reason for some of that joy one day. He wanted his words to
light her face, his presence make her want to stay. Damn if he
hadn’t fallen in love with this woman and relished these few
minutes of touching and kissing. Tasting, and if God smiled down on
him, loving.

“
Yes,” she cooed softly,
her back arching. He took the opportunity to pull her close.
Somehow clumsy fingers managed to slip loose the straps of her
overalls, pushing them over her shoulders. Now only cotton
separated his skin from hers. A very thin layer of her shirt. Her
nipples blossomed to life, their twin peaks coaxing a groan from
the depths of his own chest.

Impatient, he dropped his hands and
pushed down the denim. He wanted to feel more of her skin beneath
his hands. Under his tongue. “Your lips are like
heaven.”

Tanya used the break to turn her face,
her neck exposed to his nibbling pleasure. “What are we doing,
Joe?”

“
Tasting,” he said before
biting down.

“
Yes,” she moaned.
“Tasting.”

He brought his nips down, testing the
firmness of her clavicle before toying with the peak of her nipple
before traveling to the other. She yelped at the pressure he
applied, but her fingers curled into his hair suggested she had
zero problems with the attention he paid her.

Good. He could only focus on one
thing. His one objective at this point. One place his mind, his
body insisted he taste.

She paused, a fraction of time that
made his heart stop, but when she lifted her hips and helped him
push down her overalls, he wanted to high-five someone.

Jesus.
This time, in addition to his heart stopping, his breath held
too. Her long, brown legs. He’d never seen them before and they
started somewhere just beneath her belly button and went on through
next week. And right above them, the most delicate pair of black
lace panties he’d ever had the pleasure of viewing stared back at
him.

“
These are,” he started,
suddenly at a loss for an adequate word. His finger slipped beneath
the hem and toyed with its frilly edge. “Exquisite.”

“
Not what you’d expected,
huh?” Amusement sparkled in her eyes.

She nailed it. They were so
unexpected, so anti-Tanya, that the sight startled him. Then again,
no one else but the woman who made his body ache with need could
have pulled off the contrasts so well. Paint-spattered, worn denim
on top. Feminine, elegant lingerie beneath. He couldn’t wait to
press his mouth there and feel its softness against his
lips.

So he did.

Her scent, her taste exploded in his
mind, a sensation so captivating, so awe-inspiring, he wanted to
lose himself in it. Through the fragile silk, he tasted the essence
of Tanya, the woman of his dreams. The fantasy who kept him awake
at night. The siren who made him look forward to every other day
when he spent a few hours in her presence.

He followed her movement when her hips
rolled, his mouth never losing contact with that precious fabric.
With her.

Through her panties, his tongue traced
her pussy, found the bundle of nerves sure to send her careening
toward orgasm. He worked over her, encouraged by her low moans, her
soft cries. His dick was just about bursting through his clothes,
his mind dizzy with a desperate need for oxygen and blood. But his
instinct, his drive demanded he get her there. Those long legs were
wrapped around his head, her heels brushing against his back, and
the second her muscles stiffened, a rush of power surged through
him.

Her fingers twisted into his hair,
enticing him further. “Joe,” she whimpered. “Yes, Joe!”

He held her there, suspended, his
thunder of a heartbeat the only noise in the room before her
whimper of simple pleasure floated into the air. Such a lovely,
erotic sound.

Reluctantly, he let go, but crawled
his way back to her lips. Those lovely full lips that parted in a
smile. She watched him beneath half-lidded eyes, the contentment on
her face an aphrodisiac on its own. As tenderly as his raging
emotions would allow him, he lowered his mouth once again to hers.
“Taste,” he said softly.

Tanya cupped his face in her hands and
opened herself to him. To his kiss. The scent of her body lingered
in his mouth, but she licked his lips. Pulled on his tongue.
Breathed in sync with him.

He held himself elevated on his arms,
but slowly allowed his hips to descend. She had to know what she
did to him. How badly he wanted her. More than just kissing. More
than foreplay. He needed her like air.

“
Tanya,” he said on an
urgent breath, “I…”

A loud ringing sound filled the room,
the certainty of permanent deafness promised by its cacophony.
Their heads simultaneously whipped to the side the moment the noise
started. Through the clamor, he found his senses long enough to
locate the metal bell trilling its anger.

“
Fire alarm!” Tanya
cried.

Of fucking course.

He sighed. “Get dressed. We’d better
go.”

Joe pushed himself up, freeing her to
escape from the couch. She snatched up the overalls, and balancing
on one leg, slipped them on. “Do you think it’s a drill?” she
yelled.

His heart sank because no, he didn’t.
The first hint of the cloying smell of smoke had made its way into
the apartment.

Chapter Five

Together they hustled down the few
stairs leading to the street. She’d tried to see up the stairwell,
to check on her upstairs neighbors’ progress, but Joe pushed her
forward, their own safety apparently his first concern. It wasn’t
until her feet hit the concrete that realization rushed
in.

She pivoted to him before
turning back to face the doorway. “God, Joe.
My paintings
. I should have grabbed
my paintings.”

The tense look on his face indicated
he’d already been thinking along those lines. “It’ll be fine. Let’s
just wait and see what happens.”