Chapter 14 #2
My head dips down for a more brazen open mouthed kiss, my inhibitions burning away as quickly as Clyde’s insides did. Winter eagerly kisses me back, and I swallow down her sweet little whimper.
“Fuck, I want more,” I groan.
“She could come around the corner at any second,” Winter hisses with wide eyes.
Ugh, she’s right. If anyone saw any part of her in a state of undress, I’d have to kill them. Just a taste…that’s all I need.
My finger pushes the thin strap on her tank top off her shoulder, and Winter glances at it with wide eyes.
“Shiloh,” she warns.
“Oops,” I say, my tongue swiping my bottom lip. “Can I have a taste, Kitten? Just a little one.”
Her chest is heaving with a heady mixture of excitement and arousal, and I can smell her cotton candy and rum scent. It’s making my head swim with need. I’ll fucking die without this.
“Yes, Alpha,” she whispers, swallowing hard. “You can.”
“Fuck,” I groan, pushing the other strap down so her tank top drops to expose her breasts. “You’re stunning. Be quiet, loud, I don’t fucking care, Kitten. I’ll make it up to her by buying all her goddamned rugs.”
I’m greedy as I push as much of her breast into my mouth as I can, my tongue flicking and sucking her nipple while I cover her other breast with my hand. Squeezing, teasing, pinching, I enjoy her efforts to stay quiet.
Winter writhes as she gasps and fists my hair, but alas, no nails.
“Mmm, such a perfect taste,” I say, pulling up her shirt before kissing her hard.
“Do you hear someone?” Winter squeaks out.
“Nope,” I chuckle, turning her body so her back is cradled against me. Kissing her rapid pulse in her neck, I add, “Maybe you should choose a rug before I get into trouble.”
“I’d tease you about getting into more trouble, but I suspect that wouldn’t be hard for you,” she mutters, still breathing hard.
Fuck, the entire aisle smells like the two of us. I love the way our scents are beginning to mingle together. Rum and oleander. Two things that could kill you under the right conditions.
“You’re not wrong,” I chuckle.
Now, it all depends on whether she can get her brain to function well enough to choose a damn rug. She’s a lot of fun, and the cork is definitely off my anxiety now.
It just needed a little motivation.
CASSIDY
Shiloh disappeared into a rug shop, but Abbott doesn’t seem too worried about it as we step into an art gallery. As I look around, I realize it’s also a school. The pieces have little plaques for those that attend it.
The writing is so small, I doubt Bellamy has noticed it yet in his excitement.
“Did you…?” I hiss at Abbott, knowing what I mean.
“I did know this was here, baby,” he says with a smirk. “There are some nice pieces here.”
“Ah, some of these people are really famous,” Bellamy croaks out, moving closer to see an author signature. “Holy shit…”
“Hello, can I help you?” a man says, practically gliding toward us. He’s an omega, and while he smiles pleasantly at us, I don’t think he’s going to be able to help.
“Is your school taking new students?” Abbott asks.
Ansel hides a smile because Abbott will typically move straight to the point.
“For whom?” the omega asks unimpressed.
“There’s no way I’m able to hold a candle to this caliber of work,” Bellamy gushes. He points out the different artists he can see from here, their technique, and how incredible they are, garnering attention.
“I’m Pierre La Rue,” the older omega states. “I’m the gallerist here, and sit on the board for our school. Do you have a portfolio?”
Bellamy sighs, sagging under the weight of his past.
“I don’t,” he admits. “All of my previous work was lost. It would take me forever to get together anything that would be good enough for this school. I have been thinking about applying to the university here for an art degree, but the fact still remains that I don’t have any proof I’m good enough. ”
“I have a photo of a painting he did, but I doubt that’s what you’re looking for,” Abbott says, wincing.
I know he was hoping to help, and he may be if Bellamy’s wide eyes have anything to say. I think it’s important to dream, especially for him. It keeps the less than pleasant thoughts of hurting yourself away when the world gets too loud.
Ask me how I know.
“This…painting,” Pierre drawls. “Can you show me?”
Nodding, Abbott pulls out his phone.
“It’s just something I did for my nest,” Bellamy says. “I don’t think it’ll show you much. I did it freehand.”
Abbott hands his phone to Pierre while open to the photo he took, and the omega stares at it for a moment.
“I’ll be back,” he says curtly, taking the phone with him.
“Shit,” Abbott mutters under his breath.
“You don’t keep things on it that would be an issue,” Ansel reminds him. “Shi has everything that could be pulled from your phone at the end of the day.”
“Really?” Bellamy asks, his eyes on the door Pierre disappeared into at the back of the gallery. “Shiloh does that?”
“Phones break,” Abbott shrugs. “This way he can back up a new one for me.”
“You throw them against the wall,” I laugh.
“Shhh. Don’t tell all of my secrets,” he laughs.
Bellamy’s lips twitch in amusement, but his body is still stiff, especially as Pierre comes back with another male on his heels.
“This is the head of the school,” Pierre explains. “His name is Beau Duvall.”
“Is there a good reason why you don’t have any work for me to see?” Beau asks.
“Yes, but it’s too personal to disclose, sir,” Bellamy says politely. “As I said, the trees are just something I painted for my stepsister and I. She sketched her vision, and I brought it to life. It's not perfect.”
“Art with soul doesn’t have to be perfect,” Beau says impatiently.
“I don’t currently have a spot for a student, but I do for an apprentice.
You’ll learn new techniques, receive commissions artists in the area can’t take for one reason or another, and will build your portfolio that way instead if you wish. What do you think?”
“Is this a paid apprenticeship?” Abbott asks as Bellamy gapes at him.
“Of course. The city makes me pay my apprentices,” Beau sighs as if it’s a hardship.
I just bet it is.
“I’ll take it, Mr. Duvall,” Bellamy sputters in shock.
“And your name is?” Beau asks.
“Bellamy…”
“Tremaine,” I finish for him. It’ll be his name once we solidify things together. He may as well begin to use it.
“Yes,” Bellamy finishes weakly, his eyes wide.
God, I hope he doesn’t pass out. This is a big fucking deal for him.
“Why do I know that name?” Beau asks curiously.
“I’m Cassidy Tremaine, and this is Abbott,” I introduce. Ansel doesn’t like to be in the spotlight, so I leave his name out of things.
The name is no less powerful. We adopted Shiloh’s surname as a way to reclaim it from his piece of shit father. It’s one the city respects, and it has always opened doors.
For example, Beau Duvall’s face gets very red, and he glares at Pierre as if it’s his fault he wasn’t properly prepared. Which it is, because the omega was too busy feeling self important.
“We’d be honored to have Bellamy working with us,” Beau sputters. “The question is, why are you interested?”
“I love what I can create with different modalities of art styles,” Bellamy confesses. “Whether it’s an expression of happiness or something darker, it helps to create.”
And there it is. Bellamy’s way of coping with life before he was taken. My lips press together to hide my sad expression. There’s so much that he’s lost. Art shouldn’t be one of those things.
Abbott has his phone handed back to him, and Beau gazes at Bellamy with interest.
“Let’s do a three month trial,” he muses. “We’ll see what you can do, and see how all parties feel afterward. Would that suffice?”
“It would,” Bellamy says with a nod.
“Every piece commissioned has a different price attached to it. You’ll look at the amount of time it takes to create, and bill accordingly,” Beau says.
“As my apprentice, I’ll receive a twenty percent commission for that, and you’ll also receive my expertise as you work.
You’ll start Monday. Good day to you and Pack Tremaine. ”
Nodding curtly, Beau leaves while Bellamy appears to be close to falling over.
We thank Pierre for his time and Abbott hugs Bellamy to him. Unless you’re paying attention, you’d never be able to tell that Abbott is also carrying him out because his legs are weak.
“What was all that about?” Ansel asks. “I’m confused.”
“Beau Duvall was a really big artist up until a few years ago,” Bellamy explains, shaking his head as if to convince himself this is really happening.
I might have to stop him if he tries to pinch himself.
“He opened a school, Beau Reverie, but I didn’t realize this was it until he introduced himself.
The name of the school isn’t anywhere I could see. ”
“The entrance to the school is on the other side of the street,” Abbott explained. “When I saw the gallery I decided to take a chance.”
Bellamy is standing on his own two feet, but that quickly changes as he launches himself at Abbott, hugging him tightly.
“I seriously can’t fucking believe that just happened,” he yells, making me huff out a laugh. I’m finally able to relax now that I don’t feel like crying from the weight of knowing how much Bellamy has lost.
Ansel hugs me to his side, kissing my temple.
“I know, baby,” he whispers. “This is a big deal.”
“That was all you,” Abbott replies to Bellamy with a smile as he hugs him back. “It’s a hell of a chance.”
Bellamy grins at him, and I can tell Abbott wants to kiss him but holds himself back. I get it. The dance of figuring out what feels right or what Bellamy might want is a tough one.
“Shall we go find Winter?” Abbott asks, releasing Bellamy.
“Ah, sure,” he says, looking uncertain. “I’m pretty sure she may be really close to scaling Shiloh like the tall glass of water he is.”
“Ha!” Abbott laughs. “Well good for Shi. He’s been dancing around it with her.”
“Really?” Bellamy asks as we begin to walk back toward the rug shop. “Why?”
“Shi is slow to warm up,” I explain. “Sometimes it’s easy to forget that when I’ve known him for so long. You can tell they…”
“My lips feel puffy even though I haven’t kissed anyone recently,” Bellamy shrugs. “My nipples are also very excited. They’re definitely enjoying themselves.”
Ansel grins with a shrug. “I thought you were just nervous about being in the art gallery. I didn’t know you were trying really hard not to perfume.”
“Fuck, so hard,” he groans. “My ass is slicking and it’s definitely not fun to be edged by Winter.”
Ansel, Abbott, and I snort-laugh while Bellamy grumbles. We aren’t making fun of him, I just better understand his position earlier. Even Bellamy has a smile on his lips, and he waves at Winter as she leaves the shop with Shi.
“You feel happy,” she says with a grin walking into his arms. “What happened?”
Shiloh raises his brow at me while I nod. Their bond is definitely unique. It doesn’t diminish what we’re building, instead it’s allowed them to stay as strong as possible in the face of awful shit.
Now, we get to give them the world.