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Build a Love (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 2
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Page 2
I recalled that delightful bulge in the front of Mr. Bryan Garret’s jeans and the sexy glint in his eye. There was no doubt I was attracted to him and unless I was very wrong, he was attracted to me. However, I had no intention of acting on it, there was no way was I getting involved with any man. A quick fuck was all I was interested in and certainly not with someone I would be seeing on a daily basis over the next month or so. But that didn’t stop me from thinking about him. He was so cute and the sort of man that I could learn to quickly love, if I ever allowed myself.
I was leaning against the kitchen counter thinking about him and imagining that bulge. If I closed my eyes, I could still hear his sexy voice asking me if I wanted him to go down. I was rubbing my hands across my boobs, and even through the T-shirt and my bra I could feel my nipples getting hard. With my other hand, I undid and unzipped my jeans.
I would make that rabbit pay for what it did!
I pushed my hand in between my panties and my skin and was just running my fingers between my wet slit when the doorbell rang.
Fuck!
Fumbling, I quickly did the button up on my jeans. I tried to smooth down my T-shirt, my damn nipples were sticking out like headlamps. Moving down the hall, I opened the door to see Bryan Garret.
“Sorry I left my reading glasses in your studio. I wonder…” He stopped and looked down at my nipples, his eyes then dropping lower, and he looked up grinning
I quickly looked down and saw not only were my nipples all but shouting, I had forgotten to zip up the fly on my jeans and it was gaping open. Mr. Sexy Garrett got a good eyeful of my lacy red knickers and bare skin.
I ran my hand across my forehead, tried to act natural as I turned and zipped up my jeans. Leading the way back, I stood in the kitchen as he walked into the studio and picked up his glasses from the chaise longue.
Bryan returned and stood in front of me, his eyes smouldering as he whispered huskily, “I can do a much better job than a piece of plastic.”
I know I licked my lips. He put one hand on either side of me on the counter. He was so close, I would only have to stand on my toes to kiss him. I tried to ignore him, tried to pretend I was not attracted as I put my hands on his chest to push him away. It felt rock solid, so wide and hard.
Instead of moving away, he bent his head down and kissed me softly.
Damn. I was doing so well in resisting up until then.
He pressed the advantage and deepened the kiss, trying to force his tongue between my teeth. For a moment I kept my teeth clamped shut, but my body had its own idea and I opened up. His tongue dove in before I could change my mind. That kiss was heavenly. It had been so many years since I had let a man kiss me.
He could certainly kiss—my tongue and his were in a wrestling match. I had his shirt bunched up in my fists on his chest. I felt his arms go around me. I was fighting a losing battle and gave up. Returning his kiss, my tongue pushed passed his into his mouth. I could feel my panties were drenched.
Finally, we broke apart, both breathing heavily.
He reached down to my jeans.
Shit!
What was I doing?
I would be seeing him every day, so I couldn’t let him get to me. What was I doing letting him kiss me?
I pushed his hands away, then pushed him.
“Stop! Please stop.”
He looked quizzically at me, my mouth may be saying no but it was obviously to anyone that my body was saying yes.
“Are you sure?”
I groaned breathlessly, “Yes.” Whispering, I said, “Yes, please stop.”
He stepped back, his eyes on my face.
“Sorry.” He cocked his head and continued, “I don’t think you really want to and I know I don’t. But I respect the word ‘stop.’” He gave a grin. “I really want to get to know you. I’d love to take you out, learn all about you.”
I shook my head. “No. That will never happen.” I was getting agitated, I could feel myself starting to panic. “Just go, get out now!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!” I screamed at him. Any minute I would be out of control completely. “Get out!”
Bryan looked at me in surprise, taken aback by my over-the-top reaction. He nodded, then walked away down the hall. I heard the front door open and closed as I sank down to the floor, my eyes filling with unshed tears as I went into full meltdown.
Chapter Two
I have no idea how long I sat on the floor sobbing. I cursed myself at how weak I was. I had almost broken my cardinal rule not to ever get involved with someone again. I wondered how I was going to handle seeing Bryan every day for the next few months.
While I was feeling horrid, the phone rang. I climbed to my feet and answered it. It was my agent and best friend, Vince. He was ringing to let me know he had another book illustration for me and to tell me the last lot I had done went down a treat with the client.
He could hear the tension in my voice and asked what was wrong. I had no intention of telling him but it all came spilling out.
He roared with laughter when I got to the part about the rabbit, gasped in delight when I told him how I had been caught with my hands down my pants literally, and then crooned when I told him about being kissed.
“Please tell me you didn’t send him away!”
“Of course I did, Vince.”
I remembered how I had screamed at him. “I actually sort of kicked him out.”
My tears were falling again, “I panicked Vince. I…he…My only problem is how to react over the next few months.”
“Girlfriend, you are crazy! You need to get back on the horse and go for it.”
“Vince, I can’t,” I wailed.
“Of course you can. Not every man is like that shitface Elliott Farris! You need to stop living in the past and try living now.”
“Vince, you don’t understand.”
“You think I don’t understand? Who’s been holding your hand all these years? Anyway, what’s to understand? You’ve locked your heart away because a creep hurt you and abused you. You can’t keep thinking every other man you come into contact with is going to do the same thing.”
I knew Vince was right but I was too scared to risk anything.
“Sweetie, take the advice of an old queen. Forget the past. You’re thirty-eight years old, you are amazingly beautiful, you have a great personality and yet for the past twelve years you’ve lived in the past. You’ve become an ice maiden, not letting anyone touch your heart. You’ve let that arse-hole take away your future. Do you realise he is still controlling you because you let him?”
“I’m scared,” I whispered, “I am so scared.”
I could hear Vince’s empathy down the phone. “Oh my sweet. I know you are. Everyone is when they take the chance on meeting someone, but you’re such a strong woman in everything but this. Just for me, take the risk. I hate seeing you spending all your life alone.”
“I honestly don’t know if I can, Vince, I just don’t know.” Even to my ears, I could hear the pain in my voice.
“Okay, sweetie, it’s okay. Just think about it for me.”
“I will. You’re a good friend, you and Andy. Thanks for being there.”
“You know we love you. You’re still coming over on Saturday?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Not every day my best friend’s boyfriend turns fifty.”
We ended our call on a high note but I was feeling down as I hung up and went to sit on the couch in the family room. I was letting the horror of the past stop me from moving forward but I had no idea how to go past it.
Twelve years is a long time to live in fear, but I still did.
Just over twelve years ago, I met someone who I thought cared for me. Someone I thought I could learn to love and trust. Instead, it was a nightmare. After the first month of dating, he had turned abusive. I dumped him as quick as I could. But he didn’t accept that I had left him, he would turn up on my doorstep. He would arri
ve wherever I was, threaten me and, if I was alone, he would hit me. I went to the police and they arranged for an Apprehended Domestic Violence Order be issued against him.
The restraining order made no difference, he would ring me, stalk me, and haunt my life. The police tried to find him but they never could. Over the next couple of weeks, they played this cat and mouse game with him. Each time they thought they knew where he was, he managed to elude them.
Finally, one day he broke into my house. He raped, stabbed, and bashed me. He would have killed me if Vince and Andy had not turned up. They heard my screaming and rang the police before they raced into the house. They are both large muscular men—they wrestled with him and had almost managed to overcome him when the police turned up. He was running out the door when he ran into the arms of the officers.
I remember little of what happened after that. I was rushed to hospital, the doctors thought I would die, but amazingly I survived. My attacker was sent to gaol, where he still is.
The next few years I had counselling. Trying to come to terms with what had happened and with the fact that I would also never be able to have children. In the end, I decided I didn’t want to do any more. My parents passed away and I sold my old house and theirs, used the money to buy where I am now and build the original studio. I tried to move on with my life and in all but one aspect I was successful.
I threw all my energies into my work. I won a few major competitions with both my portraits and my nudes, and slowly I became an artist of note. I was at a point now where I could command rather high prices for my commissions, I was sought after for my work and things were very good.
The only downside was I was too scared to get involved with anyone. When I wanted sex, I usually did a little bar trolling and picked up someone. Mind you, it was not very often, in fact I hadn’t done it for almost two years. Usually I made do with my plastic friend. For me, if I did pick up a man, it was a quick fuck—solve my itch and no involvement. I never saw the same person a second time. Never let them kiss me. Never told them my name or where I lived.
Vince and Andy had lectured me on how dangerous that was but it was the only way I could have sex without emotional entanglement. Still, their words and concern made me realise how scary it was and I stopped. So now my only sexual relief was with a battery toy.
Still, the point was, I was so terrified of getting involved, of letting my guard down in case it all happened again. I view every male I met as a potential assailant.
I knew Vince was right. I just needed to get up the courage to take a risk but so far I hadn’t been able to. But for the first time in twelve years, I was actually tempted to let a bit of my guard down.
Well, if I did, it wouldn’t be happening with Bryan Garrett, not after the stupid way I had reacted. Sadly, he would be steering well clear of me.
Getting back to my feet, I went into the studio. I needed to clear away as much as possible before Monday.
The next few hours were spent with me moving things into the family room and spare bedroom. Piling up canvases, rolls of paper, and anything else I could move by myself, until all that was left in the studio was my huge work desk, my draftsman chair, easels, the map cabinet, and the chaise longue. I stood and looked at the family room. It looked as if a bomb had gone off but I told myself it was only for a few months.
I felt tired and dirty, and my muscles were tight. So after a quick meal, I grabbed a book and took myself off to soak and read in the bathtub before I went to bed.
The next morning I rang Mr. Black to tell him he could collect Muffy’s portrait on Saturday morning. He was all gushy and excited. I would be so glad to hand the piece over and not deal with him again.
When he arrived, with Muffy I might add, he was ecstatic. He loved the work and assured me Muffy did also. He was more than happy to write my cheque and as he handed it to me, he whispered that he had added a little extra as he was so happy with the work and would be telling all his friends to have their pets’ portraits painted.
I glanced at the cheque when he handed it over and thanked him profusely. He left and I stood waving him off, hoping I would never see him again despite the very generous tip. He had added a thousand dollars to my fee, I felt like doing a happy dance.
I spent the rest of the day completing a small set of illustrations for a children’s book before I changed for Andy’s birthday party. He and Vince had been my best friends for the past seventeen years. Vince had become my agent when I started making a name for myself and I knew I owed a lot to the pair of them.
For a birthday present, I had painted a portrait of the two of them together. Vince had been a sitter but we had worked around Andy’s part by using photographs. I wanted the painting to be a surprise and so even Vince had not seen it. It had turned out fabulous, I knew they would both love it.
When I arrived, the party was in full swing. They had many friends, both well respected in the art world and the finance world. Andy was an investment manager. They swooped down on me when I arrived and I was wrapped in a double bear hug, these guys were both over 6’ and both heavily muscled. When I managed to escape, I handed over the painting.
There was a moment’s silence and I thought perhaps they didn’t like it until I saw Andy’s eyes sparkle with tears. He couldn’t speak, he just hugged me and kissed my cheeks. Vince kissed me, thanking me for both of them. They propped the piece up on the mantelpiece in their living room, inviting everyone to admire it. I was embarrassed by all the praise and escaped into the kitchen as soon as I could to grab a drink.
The rest of the night was a bit of a blur. We all ate, dance, drank, and laughed until the small hours of the morning. Finally, around three I couldn’t handle any more. I kissed them both goodnight and promised I would ring on Monday and let them know if the work had started.
They walked with me to the cab I had ordered.
“Sweetie, promise you’ll stop playing with plastic rodents and take a chance on some genuine happiness.”
Vince was serious and Andy nodded his head in agreement.
“We worry about you. Please, Harry.”
“I know you worry. I like my rabbit. Anyway I’ll honestly think about it.” I kissed them both. “Love you.”
I climbed into the cab and waved goodbye to them both. Tired and slightly drunk, I crawled into bed once home and slept until eleven in the morning.
The remainder of Sunday was spent in household chores and washing clothes. I was nervous about tomorrow, wondering how Bryan would react when we met and how I would feel. Finally, around ten I went to bed, setting my alarm for seven the next morning.
Chapter Three
I dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, taking extra care with my hair. I looked in the mirror, wondering how I look to someone else. Andy and Vince had always told me I was beautiful, I could never see that. I was 5’8”, I had waist length auburn hair that tended to be curly and have a mind of its own, green eyes and, although I was carrying extra weight, it looked good on me. I was big busted and big hipped. I consider my hair and my eyes my best features. Oh well, I guess it didn’t matter what I thought, other people saw me in different ways.
I went to the kitchen and dropped a coffee pod into my machine, and while I was frothing milk, I heard a car door slam.
My heart rose to my throat and I felt all tingly and nervous. I walked to the front door as the bell rang. Opening it, I was expecting to see Bryan but instead it was a stranger.
“Ms. Kempton?” I nodded.
“Hi, I’m George. The rest of the team will be here any minute. We will be pulling down the fence and getting started on the foundations. Just call me if you have any questions.”
“Thanks, George. I appreciate it.”
He walked off to the side of the house and I went back inside to finish making my coffee.
I was disappointed.
Silly I know, but I was expecting Bryan and instead got George. Maybe he didn’t want to see me again after the way I had re
acted. Let’s be honest, I had practically kicked him out and screamed like some mad woman. Yes, that had to be it. He was no longer interested in me. I scared him off, so I guessed that solved all my problems now.
So why was I feeling so upset?
I moped around all morning, Vince rang close to midday. When I told him Bryan had not turned up, he just laughed.
“Thought you didn’t want to have anything to do with him? Sounds like you miss him.”
“I was worried about how he’d react. I wasn’t interested in him but I guess I just don’t need to concern myself now.”
I could hear his cackle down the phone, “Keep telling yourself that, sweetie, you might believe it, but I don’t. You have the hots for your hunky builder.”
I said goodbye and hung up with his smirking giggle in my ear. I tried to ignore what he said but deep inside I know I was more than a little interested in Bryan and hoping to see him again today.
That night, as I lay in bed, I took stock. Try as I might, I could not ignore the fact that I was sexually attracted to Bryan. But not only that, surprisingly, I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to know what his favourite food was, what made him laugh, did he love playing in the rain like me? Did he read books like me? What movies did he enjoy?
Well, it looked like it was not going to happen so I may as well get used to it. By his no-show it was obvious Mr. Bryan Garrett was steering well clear of me.
* * * *
That week and the start of the next fell into a routine. The builders would arrive around eight, I would make a coffee and then really mope once I saw that Bryan was not amongst them. Each day I would tell myself I wasn’t interested and each day I would peer out as the workmen arrived, hoping to catch a glimpse of the one person who was always missing.
In the beginning of the work, George had arranged for a big orange plastic sheet to be fixed on the wall that was partly demolished. That way there was no chance of too much dust coming into the studio. I had my work set out on the desk and had managed to get a fair amount done, despite the noise. I just stuck my headphones on and listened to my iPod all day.