Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 102560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“Sounds like a plan. We can do that.”
I realize I don’t want to work, and I just want to spend the day with him. “And right now is break time. Let’s get dressed,” I say.
“Then grab food? I know how you don’t like missing breakfast,” he responds.
“I think that’s a solid plan.”
After we shower and dress, we go to the kitchen, and I realize I have nothing to eat. He laughs. I love the way his face lights up in amusement, but somehow not shock, that I have nothing to cook.
“Let’s go out.”
Together, we leave my apartment and head to the coffee shop just across the street for breakfast sandwiches. Once we finish a quick meal, we find ourselves on the street corner. Cain turns to me. “You lead the way.” I’m quiet for a second, and then he shrugs.
“I showed you The Elysian. Now it’s your turn to show me your city.”
“Okay. I can do that.” I try to think of where I want to take him, and the first thing that comes to mind is the small gallery that’s only a few blocks away from my apartment.
I have to assume Cain has been to New York City many times, so I don’t want to take him anywhere that would be super touristy.
Plus, that’s just not the type of man he is.
I don’t think that’s something he would enjoy.
Knowing him, I know he’d like to see a place I like to go to.
Taking his hand in mine, I lead us down the block, and when I see the eclectic sign, I motion to the door. He steps forward and opens it.
“This gallery is my favorite in the city,” I tell him.
“Then I can’t wait to see it.”
“The paintings here are not over the top. They are watercolors, but the palette is grays, whites, and black. I think you’ll love it.”
“I’m sure I will.”
“There is an eerie presence to them, almost like New York City during the rain. I don’t know why, but it reminds me of your buildings. How the mountains reflect off the glass-mirrored walls. It makes you fall into the space. That’s what it’s like here. It feels like you’re surrounded by a rainy day in the city.”
Walking around, Cain is silent, then he walks up to one painting in particular.
This one is muted shapes and colors, but if you peer closely, you can tell it’s a home.
He points at the artwork in front of him. “This.”
“I know.”
He doesn’t say what he thinks because I know he came to the same conclusion I did. This painting depicts his vision of The Elysian to perfection.
“I need to have this,” he says, and I nod in agreement.
“It would look beautiful in the hallway that leads to the solarium, wouldn’t it?”
“It is exactly what I’m looking for.” He continues to stare at it, and I watch him.
I wonder if this is what it looked like when he watched me looking at his buildings. A sense of pride weaves its way through me that I’m able to give him this. “I am going to speak to the curator,” he says when he walks off, leaving me standing in the center of the gallery.
I walk up to the next painting. Again, it’s a building, but this time, when you look at it, you can see two figures inside, entwined in an embrace.
It’s not obvious to the unobservant eye; a person would have to stare until the lines separate, but it’s a pair of lovers.
It makes me think of last night, of the way he grabbed me in his arms.
The way he kissed me and the way he made love to me after.
A warm feeling spreads through my limbs, and I wistfully think of how I can’t wait for him to touch me again.
I could spend the rest of my life allowing myself to worship him and letting him do the same to me. Still, as I stand here looking around the room at all the images, I realize that maybe I’m in over my head.
He’s here buying a painting to bring back to the mountains, and when he leaves, I'll be left here with this mounting obsession I have toward him.
It’s only growing stronger. If I feel this way after only one night, what will happen if he stays longer?
I’m lost in thought over my mild obsession when I feel a hand grab my arm and pull me.
Next thing I know, the object of said obsession has me cornered in a small, dark alcove.
His mouth is on mine before I can object.
Lips, teeth, mouths colliding.
His hand grabs my hair and pulls my head back to expose my neck, and then he’s sucking on the vein.
It’s like he wants to devour me, and I want him to.
Maybe this isn’t one-sided. Maybe he also feels the way I do.