Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“Ox gall?”
I chuckled as I moved to the next covered easel. “My brother likes to mock the name whenever he sees me using it. It’s used in traditional watercolor techniques. Helps the pigment spread more evenly. Bit of a niche thing, I suppose.”
She was quiet for a few beats, then queried, “Are these handmade brushes?”
“Oui,” I answered, pretending to be distracted by the cover I was lifting off the easel. “They belonged to my grandfather.” I silently thanked him for passing those down to me. “Some brushes give different textures, especially the older handmade types. They’re not always practical, but they can add a unique flair to a painting.”
Kerrigan’s eyes swept over the shelves again before she turned to face me, nibbling her bottom lip. Then her gaze shifted to the canvas I’d uncovered, and she gasped.
“Holy cow! You painted that?”
I nodded, suddenly feeling a little awkward because I rarely shared my art with anyone outside my immediate family.
“It’s amazing,” she breathed as she moved in closer.
It was a slightly abstract landscape depicting the view from the deck on the back of my house. The sun was rising, casting a glow on the dewy grass, the leaves on the trees, and the rippling water on the small pond.
Then her eyes drifted to the other display, and she hurried over to it.
The painting depicted the Belladonna Gallery as the building had looked in the late eighteen hundreds when it was originally built.
“See how these brushes give it a different feel?” I pointed at the unique texture. “Since I painted it as it looked over a hundred years ago, I thought it was only fitting to use the antique brushes.”
The small amount of tension that had lingered in her shoulders dissipated, and she faced me with her bow-shaped lips curved into a heart-stopping smile.
“I…I don’t know what else to say,” she murmured with a bright smile. “How do you just keep on impressing me?”
“That’s my goal,” I teased. “I’m hoping you’ll be so swept away by me that you will agree to a special request.”
“Oh?”
“Not yet,” I told her with a wink. “I want to make sure you are in complete awe of me first.”
Kerrigan laughed. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Mr. Tall, Dark, and French.”
First, I showed her a few other paintings I’d completed and another two I’d been working on whenever I had spare time. Sadly, it wasn’t often.
Then I took her outside, setting down a blanket and emptying the tote I’d filled with food.
“I don’t remember the last time I went on a picnic,” she mused with a sweet smile as she sipped champagne from a crystal flute.
“Have I thoroughly beguiled you, miette?”
Kerrigan giggled. “Mission accomplished. I am utterly bedazzled by you, grand, brun et français.”
Hearing her call me tall, dark, and French in my native language had me throwing my head back in a deep belly laugh. After my amusement died down to chuckles, I noticed her staring at me with wide eyes and a slack jaw.
“Kerrigan? Are you okay?”
She shook her head, then cleared her throat before answering. “I’ve never heard you laugh like that.”
I smiled and curled my arm around her, pulling her into my lap. “Honestly, I don’t remember the last time it happened. You seem to bring out the best in me, ma petite miette.”
Kerrigan blushed, but her whole face lit up with joy. I pressed my lips to hers, eager to taste her happiness.
After a few minutes of making out, she pulled back, breathing heavily. Her breasts bounced with each one, and my already hard cock swelled, pressing up against her ass.
She squeaked adorably when she felt my shaft and wiggled, forcing me to grab her hips in a tight grip.
“Unless you want me to rip off your clothes and fuck you right here, I suggest you stop squirming, miette.”
She stilled and looked up at me through her lashes in an unintentionally seductive move. “Um, so, is it time for you to ask for your reward?”
“Ah, yes. I can’t imagine another time when you would be more likely to grant my request.”
“You won’t know until you ask,” she giggled.
“I want to paint you.”
Kerrigan’s eyebrows shot up. “You want to paint me?”
I smiled and nuzzled my nose against hers. “Why does that surprise you, miette? Tu es très belle.”
“I’m beautiful?” she guessed, her adorably freckled cheeks turning pink.
“Oui. Will you let me paint you?”
She bit her lip, and I gently tugged it free before sucking on it for a moment.
“S'il te plaît?”
Kerrigan sighed. “That’s not fair. You’re wielding your French like a weapon again.”
“Am I winning?”
She giggled and buried her face in my neck. “Oui!”
10
ASTON
“Absolutely not, Aston!” Kerrigan squealed, backing up before I could get my arms around her. “I am not going to let you paint me naked!”
“Why not?” I tilted my head and watched her, genuinely curious.