Muse

‘Oh.’

‘Oh? That’s it?’

‘That’s it.’

‘Did you get laid?’ Cheryl stage-whispered as she stepped inside and closed the office door.

‘No!’

‘Hmm. You sure look like you got laid.’

‘Nope.’

Cheryl kept her blue-grey eyes trained on Dani until she started to squirm. She was like an inquisitor. It was unbearable. Finally, Dani waved a hand and blurted, ‘I had a sexy dream. That’s all. I had a sex dream. I’m a teenage boy, sue me!’

Cheryl leaned against the door. Her eyes were shining in that way that meant she smelled gossip. Dirt. The goods.

‘Tell me,’ she said, sitting down in one of Dani’s two visitor chairs.

Dani leaned back in her chair and sighed. ‘I’m supposed to be doing … this …’ She waved a hand at the mess of papers on her desk and her humming computer.

‘Take a break from that and tell me what prompted zis zex dream,’ she said, steepling her fingers. ‘How does it make you feel?’

‘Well, Dr Freud …’ Dani riposted. Then she shook her head. ‘It was nothing. Just mental junk floating through my head while I slept. Stress, worry, thrill, Kevin Buck. Whatever.’

Cheryl held up a hand, eyes comically wide. ‘Did you say … Kevin Buck?’

Dani was unable to suppress a small giggle. ‘Yep.’

‘What on earth is a Kevin Buck and where did you get one?’

‘Kevin Buck is a student in the Monday-night class. He asked me out for a drink after tomorrow night’s class.’

‘Is he a …’ Cheryl looked at the ceiling as if steeling herself. ‘Young buck?’

Then her head tipped back and she was laughing, trying to suck in air. Dani, sleep-deprived and still shellshocked from her dream, couldn’t help but join in, gave into her own laughter. ‘Actually, he is. I think he’s a few years younger than me.’

‘What’s he look like?’ Cheryl was leaning on her desk now, a stack of colourful sticky notes trapped beneath her crossed arms. ‘Spill. I’m old, I’m married and I need the mental fodder.’

‘First off, I call him man bun.’

‘Ooh, he has the man bun. This is good. Go on.’

‘Dark hair, dark eyes, dark stubble. Tall, lanky but muscled, well built, great smile, nice, funny. You know, typical guy who’d make your shoes melt if he asked you out.’

‘And he did. He did ask you out!’ Cheryl crowed.

‘He did. And I said no.’

Cheryl’s face fell.

‘At first. Then I said yes. We’re going out tomorrow after class.’

‘Good, this is excellent. Good for you, Dani!’

Dani glanced at the clock. ‘If we’re going to waste time, we might as well go eat. I’m not super productive as it is. I feel bad using work time to gossip.’

‘Let’s go. Early lunch, then. It’s slow today. Three cancellations and it was a light day to begin with.’

Together they rode the elevator down and headed to the cafeteria. ‘You know I have sex dreams,’ said Cheryl. ‘Usually about Paul, but sometimes not. Sometimes it’s that strapping, deep-voiced Idris Elba. Sometimes, it’s that guy who plays Sherlock. The one who looks like the human embodiment of a bored feline. Weird name. Anyway, in this one, he takes this ribbon and—’

‘Ah!’ Dani said. ‘TMI, Cheryl. TMI!’

Cheryl frowned. ‘Oh, come on.’

They entered the cafeteria, ordered their food and found a table. ‘Just let me learn to digest my own sex dreams before I have to digest yours.’

‘Fine, fine,’ Cheryl mumbled. ‘But you never told me what it was. What happened?’

Dani stirred her chicken noodle soup and stalled by crumbling crackers into it. Finally, Cheryl had had enough. She took the final pack, smashed it by squeezing it in her fist and dumped it in. ‘Tell.’

‘He painted me.’

Her friend shook her head. ‘He painted you? So? Isn’t he painting you in class?’

Dani shook her head. ‘No, he’s drawing me in class. And I meant, he painted me. He painted my body with paint using a paintbrush. And he … strayed dangerously close to highly sensitive areas.’ Her phone buzzed.

‘Oh … sexy painting. I get it. Cool. He painted you and?’

Dani’s phone buzzed again. She held up a finger and answered. ‘Hello?’

‘Hey, it’s Chris.’

Her face was suddenly on fire. Her pulse a wicked thump and bang in her veins. She could feel it in the very centre of her forehead, a thrumming rush.

‘Hi.’ God, her voice was breathy. Weak. Maidenly.

‘Hey,’ Chris said. ‘Just making sure you’re still coming tonight. That you didn’t get home and decide I was insane to suggest it and you were equally insane to accept.’

Momentarily speechless, Dani was focused on the thoughts running through her mind. The first being: You should paint her the way she deserves to be painted. Like the art she is … What he’d said about her in her filthy, filthy dream.

The other followed swiftly: He sat and watched you stand there nude last night. Utterly naked. Without a stitch of clothing …

‘Hello? Dani?’

Cheryl was watching her, an avid look on her face. She could smell the drama, Dani was sure.

‘Yes. Sorry. I’m here. And yes, I’ll be there. I don’t think you’re insane. The verdict is still out on me, though.’ She forced a laugh and cringed to hear the vaguely lunatic tone of her laughter.

‘Good. I’ll see you then. You did great last night. Spectacular. You looked amazing, Dani,’ he said. A few beats of silence while she tried to prompt herself to thank him but failed. Then he cleared his throat. ‘OK, then. I’ll see you tonight. New class. They’re going to love you too.’

She managed a strangled ‘OK’ and then ‘bye’ and then he was gone.

‘So who was that?’

‘Chris. The friend of mine who thought up this whole crazy thing. He teaches the art class.’

Cheryl sat back looking very smug. ‘Friend?’

Dani nodded, stirring her soup but not actually eating it. ‘Yep. Since we were teenagers. Grew up in the same neighbourhood.’

‘Just friends?’

‘Yes.’ Her tongue sort of stuck to the roof of her mouth so she took a sip of water. Then another.

‘So why are you blushing like a virginal bride?’

‘I’m not.’

‘Oh, darling. You are.’

‘He’s just a friend. I swear.’

Cheryl made a noncommittal noise. ‘Not sure I buy that. I think someone might be hot for teacher.’

Dani decided that telling her friend that Chris had also had a starring role in her dream would be a very bad idea. She stirred her soup and sipped her water until it was time to go back upstairs to her office. She just had to get through the day and then not freak out when she saw Chris. No big deal, really. The dream hadn’t meant anything. Her mother had always called dreams ‘psychic junk’. Whatever was floating around in your subconscious that day came out to play when you slept. A great big amusement park of debris and detritus that made up one giant vat of nonsense soup.

She’d always believed that. She still did. Mostly.

Chapter 8

Dani was running late. Her boot heels tapped out a hurried rhythm on the tile as she raced toward the classroom. She couldn’t find her keys when it came time to leave the house and had finally, after much swearing and panic, found them under her purse instead of in the bowl by the door where she normally kept them.

Chris was speaking to his Tuesday-night class when she rushed in. He looked up, surprised but not annoyed, and then a strange look passed across his face like a cloud blocking out the sun for a moment.

‘Sorry,’ she said, softly. ‘I had a snafu. If you could just give me my—’

He went to the brass coat rack by his desk and pulled the kimono down. ‘Class, this is Dani Young, our model for tonight. When you sketch her, I expect you to catch the roses in her cheeks from running.’ He handed her the robe and stroked a fingertip along the jut of her cheekbone. Then he winked at her and said softly, ‘You’re fine. Go change.’

She nodded, clutching the robe, and hurried off to the restroom to change into, well, nothing.

This was a hell of a way to not be nervous, she thought. Be late. Be more upset that you’re tardy than that you have to reveal all your secret bits to another group of strangers. But the fact that she wasn’t very nervous about that at all, was in fact more nervous about seeing Chris after that stupid dream, made the night seem even more surreal than the previous class.

She walked into tonight’s class. Brand-new faces regarded her. Some interested, some slightly embarrassed, some bored. Tonight she was able to meet eyes and size people up. She didn’t think the Zen thing would be necessary this time but took a deep breath just in case.

‘I’ll show you your pose, Dani,’ Chris said, rising from his seat. ‘I try to mix things up,’ he said as he got closer.

She caught a whiff of his aftershave. Woodsy and subtle. It filled her senses for a split second and the fine hairs on her arm rose up. Chris was manipulating her arms as she stood there utterly nude and to her surprise he spotted that detail. ‘Cold?’ he whispered so the class couldn’t hear.

His hot breath moved across her skin as he spoke and her nipples spiked, hard and sensitive before she could even begin to will them not to. As if that were possible.

Lying was the best option. ‘A little,’ she whispered.

He nodded, moved her hands so that her right hand clasped her left wrist, almost obscuring her sex from the viewers. He took his fingertips and tilted her head just so. ‘I’ll turn the heat up a little bit. I know this pose is a tiny bit awkward, I try to make them simple, not just for them, but for you, as well. Just do your best, OK?’

She almost nodded and caught herself. ‘OK,’ she said softly.

All she wanted was for him to move away from her and fast. Her body, the traitor that it was, seemed to be recalling every vivid detail from her dirty dream. His close proximity was spurring her body to lubricate and she could feel an anticipatory tremble starting. Hopefully if he noticed that he’d assume it was nerves.

Finally, thank God, he walked away. Her gaze followed him. He wore faded jeans and a cream-coloured sweater. His dark hair was just a bit tousled, a light five o’clock shadow was blooming on his jaw. Though he’d left, the scent of him lingered around her. Her best option was to simply not breathe.

That worked for about thirty seconds until her head started to feel buzzy. To distract herself, Dani turned her attention to the class. There was the hippy-dippy lady in the back. She was decked out in tie-dyed yoga pants, long silver-blonde dreadlocks, a flowy purple tunic and enough jewellery to sink a rowboat. She smiled at Dani when she caught her eye. Dani smiled back but only for a moment.

Next to the tie-dyed lady sat a very thin young man who was dressed all in black. He had an undercut and eyeliner. His lips were so red she thought for a moment he was wearing lipstick, but then she realised those were just his lips. Lucky boy, she thought. I’d save a million dollars on lipstick if my lips were that colour …

She let her gaze ping from one to the next. An uptight-looking woman dressed in classic office attire. Khaki pants, a button-down white shirt, small earrings, sensible heels. Next to her was …

The silver fox.

The thought popped into her head the second she saw him. He was broad and well-muscled but not gym-pumped. His hair was close cut, silver at the temples and some through the top. He had a five o’clock shadow like Chris but it was also shot with an almost metallic colouring. He had big blue eyes, she could see that from here. And when her eyes settled on him, she found he was looking at her. Intently. Definitely sketching her, she could see his hand moving, but the gaze held much much more than artistic interest.

Something low in her stomach tumbled to life and her nipples, which had calmed down since Christopher’s retreat, went tight and tender all over again.

Damn.

He gave her a tiny incline of his head as greeting. Acknowledging her awareness with his own. Dani looked away. Let her gaze skip to the next person in his row. A large man who looked like a long-haul trucker. Now that was interesting. She suppressed a smile. Unlike the silver fox he was all bulk – wide shoulders, a body to match. He wore a concert T-shirt beneath a huge flannel shirt that was completely unbuttoned. Baggy jeans and work boots, complete with a trucker’s cap. His leg bounced up and down, up and down, vigorously as he worked. His tongue peeked from between his lips in concentration.

The amusement grew. She found it interesting and wonderfully distracting to see the various kinds of people in Chris’s classes. Maybe it was true that the heart of an artist lived in us all.

She startled slightly when Chris called for a break. He nodded to her as she moved, letting her stiff muscles flex. To clear her head, Dani wandered the halls sipping water before returning.

Chris was talking to a student, standing behind the woman, pointing at the sketch pad she’d been working on. She heard random words. ‘The fall of her hair’, ‘muscle structure’, ‘side swell of her breast’. That one made her blush. She shut her eyes for a moment, willing the heat not to invade her face but that was a bad move. She was immediately back with the two men, poised in front of her, paintbrushes in hand, swirling cool paint over the halos of her nipples, down her skin, towards the desperate place between her thighs.

‘… now Dani … Dani?’

She opened her eyes. Blinked. ‘Sorry?’

‘If you could take your place now. We’ll do about twenty more minutes then I want to go over your work with you and fill you in on some of our upcoming assignments.’

She nodded, went back to the stool which she didn’t use. She simply stood in front of it, dropped her robe and tried to recall her position. She glanced up to find the silver fox watching her. There went that thing in her stomach again. There was something entirely intoxicating about looking at a man and being able to see his desire for you blatantly painted across his face.

Christopher walked quickly to her, put his hand on her skin. Her breath hitched but she tried to cover it with a cough. ‘It was a little awkward. Let me help.’ He arranged her like his own personal doll. Painted doll … her mind quickly supplied. When she was posed so that he was pleased, he went back to his desk.

Dani saw him grab his pencil and saw him scratching at his own pad again. Was he sketching her just like the class? It had never occurred to her that Chris would be drawing her. She’d just expected strangers, not him. But did it matter? Her mind prattled on, with nothing to do besides stand there and think in circles. Did it matter if he was sketching her when she was standing there buck naked for everyone to see?

A bizarre thought popped into her head. What if these people had taken pictures surreptitiously of her with their phones? Did she really want her naked form floating around on the internet? For a few hundred dollars a week?

Panic flared in her chest and she focused on breathing. Chris wouldn’t let that happen. He’d never in a million years put her in that position. But what if he didn’t know?

She felt her fingers twitching of their own accord though her limbs felt numb from her blossoming anxiety.

She thought at any moment she’d just start screaming. Screaming like a lunatic. Wailing about phones and perverts and permission. She nearly wept with relief when Chris stood and said, ‘I’ll be right back. I need to walk Dani out. Let’s give her a hand, people. It takes a brave person to stand in front of a bunch of strangers and bare it all.’

The whole class started to clap and she thought she might actually drop dead right there from embarrassment. Never had she wanted to see a floor crack open and swallow her up the way she did at that moment. Hurrying, Dani pulled her robe on and grabbed her bags. She glanced back and found the silver fox watching her.

What would he think if he knew she’d named him that in her head? He smiled at her and she found herself smiling back. He had a nice smile. Something told her he might not mind her chosen moniker at all.

Chris followed her out in the hall and barely got his mouth open to speak before she grabbed his arm, her panic flaring again, and growled, ‘Phones!’

‘Phones?’ He put a steadying hand on her shoulder and her worry was great enough to allow her to ignore his familiar touch, even though the only thing separating that hand and her skin was a robe so thin it was nearly transparent.

‘Their. Phones.’ She shook her head, knowing she was making very little sense, but she couldn’t seem to get a full thought out.

His laughter was so unexpected she had the irrational urge to smack him. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, catching the look and backing up a step. He raised his hands like he was under arrest. ‘I’m sorry. Jesus, I forgot to tell you that part. Is that why you looked like that towards the end?’

‘Just your average raging panic attack,’ she said, her mouth a tight line. So tight and tense it made her jaw ache. ‘Ya know. Irrational fear, the urge to scream and scream and scream … no biggie.’ She crossed her arms under her breasts because it made her feel secure – less naked – more powerful.

He shook his head and put his arm around her. Which was no big deal, she reminded herself. He’d done it all the time when they were young and bumming around. ‘Sorry, Dani. Jesus. I’m an ass. I take their phones at the beginning of class. I put them in a basket and lock it in the supply closet. Then I pay attention during class. Just to make sure. I get it. I would be worried too if the absent-minded professor had forgotten to tell me that little tidbit.’

She exhaled slowly. Then inhaled deeply and did it again. ‘OK, my heart has stopped racing now.’

He gave her a squeeze and she hugged him back briefly. ‘You’ll be here tomorrow for my other class, right?’

‘I will.’

‘You’re doing great. You’re beautiful.’

‘It’s still weird,’ she said, looking at her bare feet, trying to ignore the ‘beautiful’ comment. A chill rushed up her spine and she shivered.

‘Of course it is. It would be weird if you didn’t think it was weird.’ He caught the shiver. ‘And it’s cold in here. Go get dressed. I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?’ He kissed her forehead briefly. No big deal, she reminded herself.

‘I’ll be here.’

He paused on his way to the door. ‘You sure you’re OK?’

‘I just didn’t sleep well. I’m fine.’

‘I hear you,’ Chris said. ‘I had weird dreams all night.’

You and me both, buddy.

‘And no rest for the wicked tonight.’ He checked his watch while she tried not to admire the thickness of his forearm or how the muscles flexed just beneath the skin.

‘What do you mean?’ She rubbed her feet together. Wanting so badly to get dressed but not wanting to walk away from him just yet.

‘After this I have a date. I don’t know what I was thinking. When class is over I’m usually pretty pooped. But what’s a single guy to do, right?’

‘Right,’ she sighed. ‘See you tomorrow.’

She hurried to the bathroom, put her clothes back on and then returned to the classroom and draped the robe across the doorknob. No need to interrupt him. He had to wrap class up so he could go on his date.

Chapter 9

They were back. She sat there trembling. Utterly naked. A feeling Dani was getting used to. Only this time Kevin Buck stood to her left and Christopher stood to her right. Buck holding a paintbrush still dotted with cobalt blue. Chris’s stubbornly showing streaks of thick crimson. Her breath stuttered when the silver fox, whose name she didn’t know, came forward brandishing his own thick brush. A medium-sized red sable brush with absolutely no paint on it.

‘You’re both doing it wrong,’ he said with confidence.

His voice was rich and deep and seemed to snake around her body, stroking her skin until goosebumps stood up, rigid little peaks of anticipation on her skin.

He stepped between the younger men and with his knee knocked her legs wider. What was a pleasant warmth between her thighs became a damp river.

‘She doesn’t need to be painted. Can’t you see that?’ His smile was nothing more than a slight curl of his upper lip. But the amusement it conveyed met his eyes because they shone with humour. ‘She’s perfect. None of this adornment is necessary.’

He took his bare paintbrush and stroked it across her forehead. Dani had never realised that her forehead was so sensitive. Or that it could make the heat and wetness between her thighs turn to a steady drumbeat of arousal.

The red sable tip tickled across the jut of her cheekbones, swept across her lips, arched down her jawline and then slithered down her neck. When he reached her collarbone he slowed the drag of the tip along her skin.

Her nipples spiked, hard and tender. She wondered, randomly, if she was cracking the paint the other two had applied. Realised she didn’t care. A warmth spread along her skin everywhere his naked paintbrush travelled.

Keeping wolfish blue eyes on her, the silver fox trailed the tip down between her breasts. Completely ignoring that needy part of her. His intention was clear. He was headed towards the neediest part of her.

He swept the brush in a great spiral, spreading out across her ribs, coming in with ever decreasing circles until he finally spun a tight ring around her navel. Then without warning he removed the brush and leaned in so that she could see the coarse silver hair sprouting along his cheeks and jawline. She saw too the shining metallic threads at his temples, intermingled with dark-dark brown hair, so dark it was nearly black.

‘Tell me you want it,’ he said, conversationally. Then he smiled. It was a Big Bad Wolf smile. A predator smile. But with just a hint of something else. Understanding. Acceptance. It toned down the almost scary quality of his expression.

She swallowed hard, her throat clicked, her heart hammered so much she feared it would come bursting from her chest like a cartoon character.

‘I want it,’ she managed. And then of her own accord: ‘I do. Please.’

He nodded as if satisfied. Stepped back just enough to get a good angle, and slid the paintbrush over her mound. Painting it first. Painting it with nothing but her own desire.

He followed the V of the place where her thighs met her sex. And when her hips shot up as if possessed, he finally dipped the soft brush between her thighs, dragging it slowly across her clit. Applying no pressure at all until she gasped. Then he did it again while putting more pressure on the brush so that the place where brush met handle nudged her clit with a little more friction – a little more oomph.

‘Fuck,’ she said, before she could think of it.

There was that lip curl again. That entirely satisfied look of a man who knows exactly what the hell he’s doing. And its effect.

Dani leaned back a little, giving him better access. He took that as acceptance and placed one big hand between her breasts. He pushed her back on the small table she sat upon and painted her clit with his soft brush as if applying the minutest details.

Her breath came short and fast. Her body taut from need, her mind a blank canvas because all thought had fled. When she whimpered, he stopped.

Dani looked at him as he regarded each of the other men, who stood there watching like mute sentinels. ‘Of course the best paintbrush isn’t found in an art supply store,’ the silver fox said. Or was he now the silver wolf to her? ‘At least not for a project such as this.’

He knelt between her thighs, spread them wide, and held them so tightly in his fingers she thought she’d wear small purple crescents for days. And she liked the idea. Liked it very much.

His tongue was so wet. So hot. And, as her pleasure swelled up, threatening to swallow her down, force her under and tumble her out to sea, she had to agree: it was the best paintbrush she could think of for this.