I bite my tongue, deciding to take the compliment for what it’s worth. Then I dare to give the idea a serious thought. “Well, it wouldn’t just be my work. I’d need to get more prestigious artists. It would be a lot of work, and the money…”
“I guess you’d have to sacrifice some of those shoes, and I can do without a few Rolexes,” he quips, throwing my earlier words back at me.
I jump up and settle myself in his lap. “You really think I can do it?” I ask, looking him in the eye.
“Well, I sure as hell didn’t marry you for your cooking skills,” he retorts playfully, and I laugh.
During these moments, I know the reason I’m here and why I fight so hard against the wall he puts up.
“There’s so much to do. I—oh my God, I’m so excited, babe! I don’t even know what to do first,” I gush.
“I can think of one thing I want to do right now, in multiple ways.” His eyes are mischievous and they’re locked onto mine as his hands creep under my shirt.
I hop off his lap and back away from him, a smile playing on my lips. He stands up to follow me, walking slowly until I’ve stopped, trapped between him and the kitchen counter. He places his hands on both sides of me.
“No,” I say half-heartedly before he lifts me onto the counter, squeezing himself between my thighs, and begins kissing my neck. “No, Cal, not here.” His lips take mine, and it takes all my strength to pull away. “What if Raven wakes up?”
He groans, and before I know it, his hands are on the bare skin of my bottom. I’m being lifted off the counter and carried into the pantry. He closes the door behind him.
“But—Raven!” I protest as he lifts the loose silk shirt I have on up to my belly button, his fingers caressing me.
“You’d better be quiet then,” he whispers in my ear before his tongue makes its way there.
A moment later he’s inside me, and I’m helpless. I hold on tightly to his neck, wrapping my legs around his waist and trying to muffle my moans by burying my head into his shoulder. He pins me against the back wall, taking my arms from around his neck and capturing my wrists over my head. As my body opens up for him, he exploits it, pushing deeper into me. I bite my lip, trying to prevent a moan from slipping out. His mouth sucks the skin above my collarbone, and I give in, unable to keep quiet any longer. I’m lost in the moment. My body is in heaven as he moves rhythmically inside me, and I feel the climax building, but in the distance, I hear footsteps. That’s not good!
“Cal… dooo… y-you h-h-hear that?” My sentence sounds incoherent, even to me.
“Shut up,” he says, his grip on my wrists tighter than before.
I wrap my legs around him tighter and move with him. This needs to happen faster. Oh God, please don’t let Raven be in the kitchen.
“Oh fuck, Lauren,” he groans and releases my wrists.
I’m thankful I can bury my head back into his shoulder. “Right th—”
I’m cut off when the door opens, the light from the kitchen illuminating what I can only assume is the last—and most traumatic—thing Raven’s ever expected to see in her pantry.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry, honey!” Raven screeches.
I don’t see her face, but Cal looks as if he’s seen a ghost. The door quickly shuts, and Cal sets me down. Seconds later he bursts into laughter. I punch him multiple times.
“I told you we shouldn’t have been in here!” I scold him angrily as he pulls up his boxers.
“I’m sorry, babe, but you shouldn’t have been wearing that around me!” he defends himself, gesturing at his shirt that I claimed as my own. “And it’s morning.”
He tries to maintain a straight face, but I don’t find this funny at all! How am I ever going to look at Raven again? I’m only thankful I couldn’t see her face when she caught us.
“I’ll tell her it’s my fault,” he says, swallowing a laugh.
“Of course it’s your fault! God no, you don’t talk to her. That’ll make this even more weird.” I fold my arms, upset at this entire situation.
He pulls me into a forced hug. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m sure Raven has had a little pantry action before.” He chuckles, and I push him away.
“Ewww.” I shudder and hit him again.
“What? Raven’s hot!”
Chapter 6
May 10th, 2008
“So you’re telling me this painting doesn’t awaken the inner creativity of your soul?” I say condescendingly, nudging his arm. This will be the fifth painting he hasn’t liked.
He smiles at me and sighs a little. “Not really.”
“Seriously? How can this not captivate you?” I ask, looking at him.
A whimsical expression is on his face. He walks beside me and puts his hand on his chin, mimicking deep thought. “It’s a train running through a wall—genius!” he says sarcastically.
If that damn smile of his weren’t so hypnotizing, I’d find his blasé attitude irritating, but instead I’m quite intrigued by it. “Okay, maybe modern isn’t exactly your thing.”
I look around the museum. It has been a while since I’ve been here, and they’ve added so much for the event. I get an idea. Taking his hand, I pull him behind me, walking quickly until I finally spot the painting I’m looking for. Triumph! I glance back at him to see his eyes aren’t on the back of my head but on a lower region. I’ll just pretend I didn’t notice that. I stop in front of it, and he looks at me expectantly.
“Okay, what about this one?” I ask him. I watch him step closer and examine the painting.
“A Sunday at La Grande Jatte,” he reads.
“So do you like this one?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “It’s okay.”
“Okay?” I laugh in disbelief. “Georges Seurat was mastering pointillism before it was even thought of, really. These all just started out as dots and look…” I trail off, feeling his body heat behind me. I feel his breath against my neck as he brushes my hair aside with one hand. His other hand finds my waist and his fingers slowly slide down, reaching my hip.
“Like I said before…” His fingers trail down my neck as his lips graze my ear. “I think there are much more interesting things to look at.”
Lauren, get a grip. Just calm down. I can’t help how my body just reacted to that and he barely touched me, but it was in all the right places. STOP! I fold my arms across my chest, just to make sure he doesn’t see exactly how obviously my body reacted.
“Don’t you think?” he retorts playfully, walking backward with a sexy smirk.
God help me. We’ve only been here an hour and I’m having thoughts about him that really should be more like fourth or fifth date thoughts. I take a deep breath, trying to regain my composure before I join him in front of a huge black-and-white photograph of the ocean.
“This, I like,” he says, gazing into it.
I look at it. I’ve never really been into photography, but I have to agree, this is beautiful. “I can see why.” I become mesmerized by it.