Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Sterling nodded and I gently stepped on the foot pedal, starting the wheel. It made a gentle whirring sound as it spun. Our wet hands glided against the clay, softening it and centering it for molding.
After a few more dips into the water, I told him, “Now we’re going to make the hole in the center.” I steered his thumb with mine, sticking them into the center of the clay to make an indention. As the clay spun around us, the slick hole got wider and deeper.
“This feels a little naughty,” Sterling joked, making me laugh against his back.
“You’re welcome,” I teased back. “Okay, do you feel how our sides are nice and even around the hole?” He nodded. “That’s just how we want them; that means one edge of our vase won’t be thicker than the other. Now we just have to build up the walls.”
After wetting our hands again, I circled them around the clay and helped Sterling pull up on the sides, making them stretch higher. “That’s so cool; I can feel it growing,” he said excitedly.
“You’re doing great; much better than I did my first time.”
“What did you make your first time?” he asked curiously.
“A mess,” I shrugged, making him snort. “But you are making a masterpiece.” We stretched the sides until our vase was about eight inches tall. “This is looking beautiful. Should we add something fancy?”
“Ooh la la. Let’s do it.”
I smiled and helped him squeeze the middle of our tower before slowly sliding our hands up and down along the clay. It created a thinner center, and a flared top, giving the vase the appearance of a blooming flower.
“Oh, I love that!” Sterling exclaimed, tracing his fingers along the shape as the wheel slowed to a stop. “I can’t believe how good it turned out.”
“I can. I knew you’d be a natural.”
“It’s only because you helped me,” he insisted, turning his head back for a kiss. “This was so much fun. Thank you for bringing me.”
“You’re so welcome. But now it’s time for the hard part; transferring the vase from the wheel without smashing it.”
Sterling grimaced and I assured him, “It’s okay; we’ve got this.” I stood up to collect a small, square board from the back counter. “Would you like to transfer the clay or hold the board?”
“I’ll hold the board,” he replied, stretching his hands out. I placed the slab in his palms and positioned his hands right next to the wheel. Then I grabbed the wire cutter once more.
“Here we go.” I slid the cutter beneath the vase, separating it from the excess clay. Then I wet the wheel, making the surface slick before sliding the piece across it and onto the board. “We did it!”
“Woo hoo!” Sterling cheered, and I beamed, thrilled that he enjoyed the experience.
“Now we’ll place the board on the counter, and Cheryl will fire it in the kiln for us.” I never ran the kiln myself; not because she didn’t allow me to, but because I didn’t trust myself. She allowed me to use the lab and materials for free, and I wasn’t about to pay her back by burning the place down.
Sterling slowly rose to his feet, keeping the board steady. He inched his feet forward, and I helped him slide the board onto the counter.
“One last step,” I instructed, and picked up the sponges from the table. I wet them and handed one to Sterling. “We will run these along the surface to make sure everything is nice and smooth.”
He nodded and we went to work, smoothing out any tiny bumps or fingerprints from the sides of the vase. Once everything looked perfect, I used the sponges to wipe down the wheel.
“And that’s it. You did incredible,” I told him with a proud smile. “What did you think?”
“I loved it. Thank you again.” He reached out to hug me before recoiling his hands. “Oops; I’m still a mess.”
“I got you.”
I led him to the sink and turned on a stream of hot water. I stood behind him and took his hands in mine again to place them under the faucet. No, it wasn’t necessary, but I wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to have my body pressed against his.
I pumped a palmful of soap into my hand and rubbed it against Sterling’s to work the liquid into a lather. I scrubbed the bits of clay from our skin, making muddy water run into the sink.
Even when the water ran clear, I kept massaging his hands, savoring the feel of his smooth skin against mine. I leaned in closer and nuzzled my beard against his neck, earning a quiet hum. It spurred me on, and I pressed a line of kisses from his jaw to his ear before gently nipping his lobe.
“Hey, Beck?”
“Hmm?” I asked, my teeth still wrapped around his ear.