Second Chance for Romance полностью

“Sure, in a battle of cuteness.” I smiled to take the edge off. “I’m only kidding. You are cute though, especially when you’re riled up.”

“And don’t you forget it!”

“Better watch out, Paul,” Trip said with a laugh, “she’s a feisty one.” He poured the last of the wine into her glass. “Here you go. Facing down bullies is thirsty work.” He turned to Wren. “Want me to fetch another?”

“I think we’re good,” she said.

“Would you get one for Paul and me?” Christy asked.

Wren’s eyebrows shot up.

Mine did the same.

“Oh, come on. Seriously?” Christy said. “We’re going to the studio.

We’ll be working.”

“In that case,” Trip said, “I’ll fetch the ice bucket.” He returned a minute later and handed it to me.

Christy swept up her wineglass. “Come on, Mr. Cute Butt. Let’s get to work.”

Christy drew just as well with a buzz. But the wine lowered her inhibitions, and she forgot to act like a schoolgirl. She didn’t turn into a brazen seductress, but she wasn’t as reserved as usual. She wasn’t as modest, either, which was both good and bad.

Good, because I enjoyed the view.

Bad, because I enjoyed the view.

She was wearing one of her thin bras, and her nipples showed through her light sweater. She was also wearing a tight pair of stirrup pants. My imagination didn’t have to work very hard to picture her without them.

Worst of all, she needed a lot of close-ups and detail sketches. She sat on the floor by my knee, and her sweater fell away from her body whenever she leaned forward. I had a clear view of her small, firm breasts. Her bra was sheer enough that I could see the outline of her areolae. They were dark, almost brown. I could smell her perfume, too, and it was driving me crazy.

I finally lost it when she frowned at one of her sketches. She unconsciously touched her mouth as she studied it. My vision seemed to zoom in on her perfect pink lips. They parted in slow motion. She ran her thumb along them. They closed around it, and she sucked gently.

Blood rushed to my penis so quickly that I actually felt lightheaded. I lost my balance and caught it against the couch.

It took Christy a moment to realize something was wrong. “What…?”

“I’m okay,” I lied. But my dick was already semi-hard. And judging by the spots in my vision, it wasn’t going to stop until it diverted my entire blood supply. “Just a little dizzy.”

“Oh my gosh. It’s probably low blood sugar. Happens to me all the time.”

She stood up abruptly. Her crotch was at eye-level, and I could see through the triangle gap at the top of her thighs. “I’ll be right back. Wait here.”

Where’m I going to go? Out for pizza?

I climbed onto the couch and grabbed one of the pillows to cover my erection.

Gee, that won’t be obvious.

My head was fine by the time Christy flitted up the stairs and thrust a glass of orange juice at me.

I drank it, grateful for the distraction from her nipples.

“Thanks,” I said, and took a deep breath.

My hard-on started to relent, but it wasn’t going soft any time soon.

“Do you need another? Are you shaking? How’s your head? Still dizzy?”

“Yes. No. Better. Not really,” I said.

“I love how you play with words. It’s like you’re an artist and they’re your palette.” She snapped out of it. “Oh my gosh! Just listen to me, chattering away. I’d better get you more juice, just to be sure.”

She returned a minute later, breathing a little harder than before. Her nipples threatened to make me dizzy for real.

I downed the juice and made a show of feeling normal. I still had an erection, of course, but that was normal too.

“We should probably finish for the night,” Christy said when she decided I wasn’t going to pass out. She looked at her watch. “Oh, wow. It’s almost midnight.”

“Time for bed.”

“Separately, right? I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

I started to apologize but realized she was grinning. “Now who’s making fun of whom?”

“See? That’s what I mean about you and words. I’d’ve said ‘who.’ But it’s really ‘whom,’ isn’t it?”

I nodded.

“How do you know?”

“There’s a trick to it. Use ‘who’ if you’d say ‘he’ and ‘whom’ if you’d

say ‘him.’”

“Oh, cool. I always learn stuff with you. Like Brunelleschi and his dome.

Or why Gothic churches are so tall. Or creative ways to use a throw pillow.”

My face must have turned scarlet, because she laughed.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve seen one before, you know.”

“One what? ” I teased.

She rolled her eyes. “Duh. An erection.”

“Well, I’m kinda shy about mine.”

“Not according to Wren.”

My eyes widened in surprise.

“I know all about how she teased you when you modeled together. She used to brag about it.”

“Oh she did, did she?”

“Mmm hmm.”

I gave her a critical look. “How much wine have you had?”

“All of it,” she said proudly. She pointed at the empty bottle. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I never really get drunk. Not with my metabolism. Well, I do get drunk, but not from wine. I have to drink whiskey or something like that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”