Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
She’s too beautiful to hide in the dark. From me.
I nod in agreement. “Sí, this isn’t working. Let’s reconvene upstairs. You get a head start; I’ll grab my things.”
The teasing thread has woven itself back into Essence’s tone, with a hint of insensitivity as she snorts.
“So, Essence, I’m not permitted upstairs? I can see the light streaming from there,” I explain, gripping at tufts of my long hair. “There’s better illumination up the stairs. Aye, you’re so stubborn.”
“Ha! Yes, I’m stubborn, indicating upstairs is off-limits to you. The same goes for between my thighs.” She slides off the partition. With its wealth of fabric, that horrible dress cloaks all her heavenly curves, right down to her kissable toes.
“Okay, no sex.” I heft a shoulder. I’m a man, I will wait... you will pay, though.
Essence glares at me like this one old nun had when I met Alexis’ madre behind the pews on the second floor. Of course, we were intimate, just not in God’s cathedral.
The woman, who takes me as a liar, snaps, “You don’t get to come inside of me, Antonio. Not now. Not ever. It’s been years for me, so you’ve satisfied me for ages to come. Thank you very much.”
I up her sarcasm with a cocksure grin of my own. “No, thank you. Glad to oblige.”
Essence drops a hand to her hip. “You’re welcome. Now, go paint someone else, with your paintbrush and your tongue and...”
“Ahhh, you assume this is what I do?”
“Well, yes.”
I kick a brow, inquiring, “And you’ll be satisfied with your release until...”
My pause offers Essence ample time to reply, but she snorts. “I’m not answering that. This whole thing was a mistake.”
I follow hips that swerve like the Nile River past one dwindling art section as she complains I’m an artist, and this is what I do.
“No, entiendo?” I growl in confusion.
Essence stops, spins around, and because my stride has exceeded hers, she places a few tentative steps between us.
“Is this a game to you, Antonio? You ask a woman to pose, and you expect her legs to spread open?”
Women. I still don’t comprehend this argument. Most of my subjects are the accumulation of the perfect woman.
And here... I thought I was standing in front of the epitome.
She stares at me as if waiting for something.
In one step, I brush a thick lock of Essence’s hair behind her ear. “Can we start over?”
Fleeting seconds pass between us. A softer side of Essence emerges as she asks, “Alright, so my celibacy statement didn't deter you? Should I have said your one release would satisfy me until the end of forever—Will that get you to go?”
Aye, I thought a softer side of her was revealed. My mistake. “That’s not the way it should be. One moment of passion cannot sustain you for an entire lifetime, preciosa.”
“How sweet.” Her head shakes in indignity. “You still want to get into my pants. So, now I’m precious? When you’re done having me, I’ll be...”
“Essence...”
“Would it run you off if I mentioned marriage or kids? You’re that guy, right?”
“I see myself married one day. Your topics for discussion do not scare me. I’m a real man, preciosa. I’m glad you bring up the subject because I’ve never felt so attracted to a woman in all my life.”
A second before she slips back into a viciously alluring scowl, Essence groans, “I sound like a maniac. I’m so sorry. I blamed you for, ahem, another painter.”
Now that we’re making strides, I encouragingly ask, “He hurt you?”
“Yes, again, I apologize.”
“Hey, ask me about kids.” I smile to ease the tension. Clearly, the pinche cabrón who crushed her heart is a sore subject. One person can ruin their lover for the next person who intends to mend their heart.
I could be that person. The bitter pendejo who tarnished women because of my past... But I won’t.
I’d instead show Essence there are good guys in the world.
I slide my hands behind Essence, bringing her flush against my chest. She fits like I was made for her, and she was made for me. I repeat, “I was honest about marriage. So, ask me about kids, Essence. Ask me anything.”
With Essence’s breasts heaving between us and conflicted eyes glancing up at me, she murmurs, “No.”
“I already have—”
Shaking her head softly, she mumbles, “So, you won’t use my break in celibacy to taunt me? To say that I’m weak? Or this random discussion of children and marriage to call me a grade-A clinger? Antonio, you’re either way too good to be true or...”
“Made for you?”
My thumb caresses the bend of her cheekbone. I stroke her sudden smile line, and she moans. “You’re the worst, Antonio.”
“You called me too good...”
Fingers clutch into my hair, and Essence inclines her head, edging off her bare toes, while I lower my face.