Forever Baby (25 page)

“Okay, stop that…or I will never get to the painting part.” He smiles and kisses my forehead. “Let me help you take off your clothes, so I can start painting that perfect body of yours.”

I lift my arms as he pulls off my T-shirt. He runs light kisses down my shoulder as he unbuttons my pants, letting them fall to the floor. His kisses make their way up to my neck, and he unfastens my bra. He cups my breasts with his strong hands and starts kneading them before pulling at the nipples.

He grunts, “God, you are so fucking sexy.” He steps back and takes a few deep breaths. He sighs, “Okay. Do you want to go and lie on that couch?” He points to the outdoor sofa.

“Sure. Do you want me to take off my underwear, too?” I ask.

“No, go ahead and leave them on. They are hot,” he says as he admires my lacy black thong.

I walk over to the sofa. “How should I lie?”

“However you are comfortable.”

I lie on the sofa on my side, letting my arms fall to the soft cushions below me. Andres has seen me naked many times, so I don’t know why, but lying here has me feeling so exposed. I watch as he takes his paintbrush in his hand and starts working on the canvas. The blue of his irises is piercing as he concentrates on painting, his stare flickering between my body and the canvas. He is so deliciously attractive as he works. My face flushes as I watch his tight forearm flex while he makes strokes against the canvas. I am hopeless.

I can feel my breath quicken, and my blood pressure increase as I lie on the padded cushions. Closing my eyes, I try to relax. Lying here, bare, and having Andres study me with that steamy stare is such a turn-on. I can feel my desire deepen, the wetness increasing between my legs. It is so erotic, here in the open like this, while being examined and painted. Keeping my eyelids shut, I attempt to relax, focusing on my breathing. I don’t know how long this will take. It is a real possibility that I am going to incinerate right here from this burning need that I have for Andres to be inside me, now.

The sun heats my skin, and the sofa is very comfortable. My mind wanders to calming thoughts, and I concentrate on my breathing. Relaxing, I can feel myself starting to drift off.

Smooth lips on mine awaken me. I can taste his minty breath on my mouth, and I open my tired lids.

He grins at me. “I’m done, baby.”

“Mmm,” I manage as I wrap my arms around his neck.

“I’m done,” he says again in a hushed voice.

“I want to see it,” I whisper through my sleepy fog.

Andres takes my hand and leads me over to the painting. The girl on the canvas is breathtaking. The work of art is sexy but beautiful and classy at the same time.

I don’t think it resembles me. “It is stunning, Andres. I love it. But is this how you see me?” I ask, confused.

Andres stares at me, perplexed. “Yes. This is what you look like, Liv.”

I stare at the painting. “Hmm…I don’t see it.”

He wraps his arms around me from behind as I continue to observe the girl on the canvas in front of me.

“Trust me, baby. Believe me when I tell you, this is you—simply gorgeous.”

His inviting breath on my neck tickles. He turns me around to face him, and his mouth is on mine, igniting the pull in my belly. He kisses me so tenderly, and my lips shiver against his. He trails his kisses down my neck to my breast, slowly sliding his tongue across my erect nipple. He pulls my nipple into his mouth with more intensity, and I grasp at his hair with both hands as I gasp with pleasure.

I push Andres back. “I think you have me at a disadvantage here, babe,” I say as I pull his shirt off over his head. “It is only fair that I get to see your fine body, too. Don’t you think?”

I suck on Andres’s neck, tasting the salty sweetness of his skin, as I unbuckle his pants and guide them to the ground. I can feel his desire pressing into my skin as I run my fingers through his hair, pulling him into a deep kiss. He kisses me senseless as he smooths his hands over my back, branding me with his touch, drawing me in.

I pull away, panting at the loss of connection. Through audible breaths, I say, “You know what else, babe?”

Andres peers up through hooded eyes as his hands continue their exploration of my sensitive skin.

“I only think it is fair that I get to paint you, too.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “You want to paint me?”

“Mmhmm…”

His hands find my butt cheeks, and he squeezes. “Whatever you want, baby.”

I lead us to where the table with paint stands.

“First, I think I will start out with a little red.” I dip two fingers into the red paint.

A cute, puzzled grin graces Andres’s face, and I find myself smiling back at him. I take my two fingers and run them down his chest. Giving extra attention to his nipples, I rub my fingers in a circular motion across each taut peak, moving from one to the other. His cheerful expression goes dark, and his lips part as he inhales.

I dip my hands in the green paint and trace loopy designs up his arms, admiring the curvature of his lean muscles. When I get to his shoulders, I massage them while I lean in and give Andres a delicate, sweet kiss. I insert my tongue into his mouth for a moment, but I withdraw it before he can entwine it with his. Andres groans.

I rub yellow paint on my hands and use them to trace the outlines of his defined abdomen muscles. I outline the inverted V at the base of his torso, and it almost does me in. Andres takes my arms in his.

“Uh-uh. Not yet, mister. I am not done with my masterpiece yet.”

“Baby, you’re killing me here.” His low, gruff voice sends riveting pulses to my stomach, causing me to tremble.

“Just a little more, babe. Your back needs some color.”

Dipping my hands into purple and blue, I work my colored palms over Andres’s back muscles. I trace paint from his shoulders, down his back, and up to the sides where I rub his lat muscles. I trace my hands around to his front again, admiring the myriad of colors blended on his chest. Andres’s face is resonating pure lust, and it’s a color that is so erotically inviting on him. I drop to my knees and take his length into my mouth.

“Fuck!” Andres moans, throwing his head back, as I work him in and out of my mouth, holding his hips with my painted hands. “Oh God, Liv. Yes,” he says through gritted teeth.

He tangles his fingers through my hair as his hips start a tantalizing cadence of thrusts toward my mouth, letting me take him as far back into my throat as I can. I trace his smooth head with my tongue while I work his base with my hand, and then I take him fully in my mouth again. His breathing becomes ragged, and I can feel his quad muscles tighten as he lets out an unrestrained moan toward the ceiling. I pull my mouth off of him.

“Shit, Livi.” He is struggling to find his breath.

“I want to come together, babe. Sit down.”

Andres sits on the ground of the patio with his legs straight out in front of him. He locks his arms behind him, leaning on his hands, and peers up at me. I straddle his thighs and position myself at his tip. I crash onto him, covering him completely with my heat. We both moan from the powerfully staggering feeling of our connection. I grab on to his multicolored chest and begin an intense onslaught of rhythmic thrusts. I rise so that only his tip is still inserted, and then I plunge down again, taking his entire length. My legs burn from the intensity of my movements, but I don’t slow. The fire in my belly is beginning to take over my body, and I can hear in Andres’s breath that he is close.

Andres leans forward, taking his weight off of his arms, and he wraps them around my back. He buries his face in my breasts as I continue to ride him senseless. His strong arms hold me tight as my body explodes in a numbing sensation and heat, and I scream in release. He tilts his hips, entering me one more time, before I hear him shatter, his steamy breath on my chest.

We sit on the floor of the outdoor patio with our arms wrapped around one another, panting with rough, raw breaths. We are still connected and sticky with color, sweat, and sex.

As he holds me tight, Andres speaks into my skin, “Damn, baby, that was fucking extraordinary.”

“I am here for your pleasure, Señor Cruz.”

“Well, I give you an A-plus on your first art lesson. You have a way with color.”

I laugh. “Shower?”

“Yes, shower,” Andres says as he releases one arm from my back to steady himself as he stands.

My legs remain wrapped around him, and he carries us into the shower, still connected.

As the balmy water from the shower propels over our bodies, color cascades down in multihued rivers. His mouth meshes with mine, and his tongue takes over, rendering me senseless once more.

Andres drops me off at my house before going to practice with the guys at Hugo’s. I open the thick wooden door, and I am met with laughter echoing through the house. Nolan and Nadia are sitting at the kitchen table with their textbooks open. Nadia’s head is thrown back in a fit of giggles, and Nolan carries a quirky grin across his face.

I take everything in, and I am overcome with gratitude. Walking into this house feels like home. This country, these people, this life feels right. This is the first time I have truly known that I am right where I am supposed to be. I spent the day with the love of my life, and then I get to come home to tangible happiness among two of my favorite people.

Nolan’s face lights up when he notices me. “Hey, Livi!”

“Hi, guys,” I answer. “What are you up to?”

“We are trying to study, but Nolan here is very good at distractions. His comedic timing is priceless.”

I laugh. “For sure. One has to have a lot of concentration to actually get any studying done with him.” I drop my backpack by the table and sit. “I have some serious studying to do, too.”

Nolan stands. “I’m going to grab a drink. Can I get you two anything?”

“I’m good. Thanks,” Nadia answers.

“I’ll take a water if you don’t mind. Thank you,” I say.

Nolan places a bottle of water on the table in front of me, and I thank him again.

He bends and kisses the top of my head. “Anytime.” Returning to his seat, he asks, “So, what are the plans for this evening?”

Nadia looks up from her book. “The guys are playing at a new bar on the west side if you want to come.”

“Sure. That sounds fun,” Nolan says, sounding interested.

The bar named Memo’s is larger and more modern than the other establishments the guys regularly play in. The interior is covered in varying shades of cream and white, giving it a very New Age feel. The interior designer could have taken the scheme straight from a trendy bar in Los Angeles. The large dance floor is covered in ashen tile and is already packed with eager bodies. The guys are getting quite the group of followers.

Although Andres plays the band off as something just for fun, I know it means so much more to him than that. I have seen the way he expresses himself through music, sending a powerful message. He says it is all simply a pastime, but everything he does—from the way he practices every day to the heart and soul he puts into the lyrics and the energy he uses to put on a fantastic performance, no matter the venue—tells anyone who is paying attention that it is so much more. Perhaps he doesn’t want to let on how valuable music is to his life and how much he wants the band to succeed because if for some reason it doesn’t, it will be another letdown in his life.

I understand his hesitance and need to seem nonchalant about everything. I know he is tired of people he loves letting him down, and although his music is not a person, it is definitely alive. Its heartbeat thrums through Andres, allowing him to breathe, to let it all go in the soul of the music. All of the pain and disappointment in his life can be released with each note that is played and word that is sang, permitting the pressure on his heart to lessen. Music means more to Andres than I think anyone realizes. Unlike his art, which he took a break from when it all became too much, he has never quit music. I pray that his band continues to succeed, not only for him but also for the people who get to hear him. That is a gift in itself.

Andres peers up from the mic stand and finds me across the room, staring at him, as I think this all through. His mischievous smile lights up his face, and I can’t help but grin back. His smile sends the butterflies in my belly into a fluttering frenzy. His eyes darken as his stare intensifies, and I feel him in my soul. I can read every message those eyes are telling me right now, and it fills my body with so much warmth as it sends my heart into overdrive. He loves me and wants me just as much as I want him.

One of the band’s more upbeat songs charges through the speakers of the bar, and the dance floor is alive with arms flinging in the air, bodies bouncing to the beat, and smiles on all the faces. I dance, grinning widely, as I watch Nolan repeatedly twirl Nadia in a circle. She laughs and tells him to stop. He does, and she falls into his chest. She closes her eyes, regaining her equilibrium, as I’m sure the room is spinning for her at this point.

She looks up and playfully hits Nolan on the arm. “Were you trying to make me puke?” She giggles and grabs my hand.

We raise our arms in the air together and bounce along to the beat.

My life is so perfect, and I know it is too good to be true. People aren’t really this happy—at least, not forever. Spain is my heaven. There are no real expectations here besides having fun. Yes, I have a couple of classes, but they cause little pressure. They aren’t too difficult, and not having to work here leaves me with extra time to study. I wish I could be like that guy in the
Groundhog Day
movie and relive this time over and over. I know all good things come to an end eventually, but maybe, just maybe, my life will be the exception to that rule.