9. Nick
9
NICK
I get my easel set up in the living room along with a stool for me to sit on. I have a collection of paints and brushes on the coffee table. I look around, waiting for Pen, wondering what is taking so long. But knowing her, she is probably fixing her hair or something.
I’m nervous for some reason, and I don’t know why. I feel dumb actually. I have no idea why I agreed to this. I know she is just looking for something to pass the time. But we could have done a hundred other things. I feel vulnerable painting her. It’s bad enough that she saw the painting I was working on and not just the part with me being naked. It’s just painting in general. I’ve never been the best at it, but it’s something I’ve been doing to blow off steam after spending time with my dad. It helps me decompress and recenter myself. But I do it alone. Not with anyone else around. Hell, I’ve never actually painted another person. I usually just do landscapes. I was just experimenting with portraits. And now I have to paint her, and she will probably laugh at it when she sees I’m not any good.
I hear her footsteps in the hall and snap out of my thoughts. “Finally. I thought you fell asleep.”
“No, I was just getting ready.”
“It took you long enough to change.”
She doesn’t say anything, and she doesn’t walk to the couch. I turn around to ask her what the hell she’s doing and drop the paintbrush I was twirling around in my fingers.
She isn’t nude. But this is probably worse than her just being a naked subject.
She’s standing in front of me in nothing but the jacket to the Santa suit and a pair of lace underwear.
My dick twitches the second I see her. Because this version of Penny looks as vulnerable as I was just feeling. I can see her trying to pull off confidence, but I think she is nervous about my reaction to her.
But all I really want to do is pull her into me and kiss the hell out of her. Because, fuck, she is a goddamn work of art.
I can’t help but stare at her. The way the jacket is way too big for her but sits just right on her breasts. They peek out ever so slightly, showing off the perky fullness. She’s a tease and a bombshell all in one with the way she fluffed out her hair and the light layer of gloss on her lips. Again, I find myself staring at the constellation of freckles on her face.
“I…umm…well…” She trails off, not even able to complete a sentence.
“I thought you said this wasn’t going to be like one of my French girls,” I say to lighten the mood.
She bites her lip and smiles at me. “Well, I couldn’t resist.”
“So much fucking trouble,” I mutter under my breath. Because this girl is going to be the death of me.
“Where do you want me?” she asks.
I thought I was going to be painting her reading a book. Not in my stupid Santa suit and nothing else.
I look around the living room and point toward the wall of glass at the front of the house. Night is starting to fall even though it’s hard to tell with the overcast sky from the storm but the lighting outside, along with the trees in the background and the falling snow, make it a perfect spot to paint her.
“Okay,” she says quietly. “Do you want help moving your stuff?”
I shake my head. “No, it will only take a minute to move it all.”
I have no idea how I am going to be able to sit for two hours painting this gorgeous woman who is wearing nothing but a goddamn jacket.
I take deep breaths as I gather my easel and canvas and move them toward where I asked her to stand. “I’ll be right back,” I tell her.
I walk into my studio so I can grab a table to set up my paints and brushes on. I pause for a moment though. I need to regain my composure and find a way to paint her like I said I would without going caveman on her and fucking her against the window. Because goddamn it, I want to. But I can’t. And it’s going to take everything in me to maintain my self-control.
I let out a deep-seated breath then grab the small table I use to hold my paints and carry it out into the living room.
Pen has her back toward me as she watches the snow fall from the sky. But she must hear me walk in since she starts talking. “I used to hate the snow. I always hated that we lived here surrounded by mountains. It felt like we had no escape, like we were trapped inside this labyrinth. I just always wanted to get out.” She pauses, but I don’t say anything. Her thoughts are rhetorical that are meant to be left in the ether. “But looking at the snowfall right now, it seems so peaceful. Beautiful even.”
I clear my throat as I sit on my stool setting up my paints. “Do you still feel trapped?”
She turns to look at me and tears brim her eyes, but they never fall. “Yes. At times. But I know how to escape now.”
“You found your way out of the labyrinth.”
She nods. “Did you?”
I run my finger over the head of a brush, not sure how to answer. I thought I did. I thought I escaped for good but now, now I am not so sure.
“You’ll find your way out eventually,” she says softly like she heard my thoughts. How could she possibly know or understand when she still really doesn’t even know why I’m here besides some vague answer I gave her. Everything I’ve shared with her is superficial. Even my art. I guess you could say it speaks to my soul, but it’s not self-portraits, so no one can see the real me.
“Yeah,” is all I say in return because I’m not so sure I will.
“How do you want me?”
Luckily, our brief conversation turned off all the synapses firing to my dick, and I can look at her as a subject and not something I want to fuck even though she is half naked. “Just stand against the window but don’t lean on it.” She does as I say. “Maybe put your hand on the window frame, like you’re looking outside.”
She moves into the position I instruct her, but something isn’t right. The way the jacket falls, the way her hair sits. I don’t want to touch her, afraid that the calm I just regained will go out the window, but I don’t know how to tell her how to fix them.
I walk over to her, and she watches me as I approach. “What are you doing?”
“I just need to fix a few things.”
Her breath quickens as I use my fingers to brush a few strands of hair away from her face. Her cheeks turn pink as I grab the jacket and adjust it on her shoulders so it sits back further and doesn’t look as large on her. My fingers graze her chest and the side of her breast as I fix the lapels so they sit just right.
“Nicky,” she whispers. I can hear the need in her voice, but I ignore it. My willpower is a lot stronger than I thought it could be.
I move back to my stool and mix some paints and get to work on painting Penelope.
I work in silence for almost an hour, and she does a good job of staying still but of course an hour is a long time for her not to talk and eventually she breaks the silence.
“Why did you come back here, Nick?”
I freeze. I’ve already told her the vague reason, but I know she is asking for more. And I don’t know why I feel obligated to give her that information freely. Maybe it was her vulnerability earlier or maybe because despite the fact I am painting her nearly naked, I feel relaxed and in my zone. I’m comfortable and know I can trust her.
“My dad is sick.”
I glance up at her, and she frowns. “How sick?”
“Stage four lung cancer. He’s probably only got a few months left.”
“I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “Don’t be. You never knew the guy, and he’s not worth any apologies.”
She chews on her cheek, and I know she is about to pry for more information. So, I wait as I get back to the painting, focusing on the way her hair flows, how the few pieces I brushed out of her face have fallen back. They look better there than brushed back, and I make sure to add the detail to the painting.
“You said the reason you left Ouray to begin with was because of him.”
I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “Yeah, well, he wasn’t the best dad.”
“What did he do?”
I look up at her. “You really want to know?”
She nods.
“He was an abusive prick. Ever since Mom left, he took it out on me and my brothers. Brandon and David always kept an eye on me and took a lot of the abuse, but once they both left for college as desperate to get out as I was, it was just me and Dad. And he got worse the older he got.”
“That’s why you were always at our house,” she figures out.
“Yeah. Your mom and dad suspected it I think, but Wes always covered for me. We both weren’t sure what would happen if someone reported Dad to the authorities. Wes and I thought I would get sent away somewhere. I have an aunt out in Wyoming, and for two fifteen-year-old kids, that was too far away for your best friend to be.”
Tears sit in her eyes again, and I know she is trying hard to hold them back. “I’m sorry, Nick. I never knew.”
“Don’t apologize, Pen. No one knew except for my brothers and your brother, and that’s how we wanted it. Brandon came back from college every summer to make sure I was okay. And I always lied to him because I knew Dad would fuck him up worse than me. I learned to fight back. It got easier the older I got since Dad just became more of an alcoholic every day.”
Pen moves to come toward me, but I hold up a hand. “Stay where you are. I’m still working.”
She moves back to the position she was in, and I wait for her next question. “Why didn’t they come back? When they found out he was sick?”
“We all talked about it,” I tell her. “Brandon was the one listed on Dad’s medical records. One day Dad had a bad fall from too much whiskey. When he was admitted to the hospital, they also found the cancer. It took me almost a year to get it out of Dad that he knew something was wrong long before that fall. It pains me to think it, much less say it. But if he had gone to the doctor before then, I might not be here today. He may have been able to get rid of the cancer with chemo.”
Sadness sits on her face, and I take advantage of it, adding some kind of realism to the painting. I take my time adding in the detail to her round eyes that are almost too large for her face, making sure the green is the exact right color and the gold flecks are pronounced.
“So why you and not one of them?”
“They are both married and have kids and corporate jobs. It was too much strain for them to give everything up to come back here.”
“You left because of him but came back because of him.”
I shrug. “It was going to be one of us. We all left because of Dad. It was just the easiest for me to come back.”
“So you take care of him?”
I laugh darkly. “Hardly. I used to make sure he got to his doctor appointments every week, to his chemo sessions. Hell, I even tried to get him to AA meetings. But the guy is as stubborn as they come. Luckily, I got him to quit smoking while he was getting chemo, but once the doctors realized it wasn’t going to work and that the cancer was beginning to spread, he stopped treatment. Then started smoking and drinking again. Honestly, at this point I just check on him a few times a week to make sure he’s still breathing. I could have left by now and just paid someone to do that.”
“But you care about him.”
I hate to admit she’s right, but I do care. He’s my dad. Even if he abused me physically and mentally and has been an asshole my entire life, he’s still my dad. “Yeah.”
“You’re a good person, Nick. Not many people would give up everything like you did.”
I sigh. “Well, some days I feel like it wasn’t even worth it.”
“Hey, if you weren’t here, then you wouldn’t have run into me, and I know you are just having the best time of your life right now with me around.”
I laugh heartily at that. “Yeah, Pen, you’re right. You’ve definitely made these last two days memorable.”
She huffs at that and sticks her chest out in pride, and I can’t help but laugh.
I get back into the groove of painting again, and another hour or so passes as I finish up the last of it. My final touches are of her breasts, barely peeking out underneath the coat. I think about the way my finger grazed them earlier, and my self-control starts to diminish. I want nothing more than to rip that damn jacket off her and take advantage of her, taste every inch of her.
But I hold on to the last bit of control I have as I sign my name at the bottom of the painting.
“All done,” I tell her.
She lets out a squeal and jumps. “I can’t wait to see!”
She wraps the jacket around her chest, finally covering up the damn temptation as she makes her way over to the painting.
Her hands cover her mouth as she takes it in. I can only imagine she is judging every single line and detail, from the flow of her hair to the freckles across her cheeks to the way her breasts peek out from under the jacket. Or maybe she will hate the way there is a sadness in her eyes I captured. This isn’t the playful picture she had in mind, instead a portrait of vulnerability and realism.
“I have no words,” she mutters from under her hands.
I look down at her. “You hate it.”
She hits me across the chest with the back of her hand, and I’m not expecting it. “Oof.”
“This is incredible, Nicky. Do I really look like this?”
“Like what?”
“Beautiful,” she says in awe.
I pull her toward me, instinctively, my hands making their way to cup her face. “Innately.”
“Nicky,” she says on a whisper.
I don’t even know what I’m doing or why I do it. But I drop my lips to hers until I can feel her staggered breath on my lips. I look into her eyes, and they are filled with so much need and desire, I know I can’t hold myself back anymore.
She gasps as my lips crash to hers. She is just as surprised as I am as I devour her. I don’t even take it slow. I kiss her like it will be the first and last time because it will be. So I give her everything I have, take everything I want.
One of my hands drops from her face and find its way underneath the jacket and onto her hips, pulling her into me, controlling this kiss in the only way I know how, the only way I want.
She moans against my lips, and the sound goes straight to my dick. I know she can feel me growing hard against her belly as I pull her even closer into me.
I wish I was shirtless right now so I could feel her perky breasts pressing into my naked skin.
Her hands find their way into my hair, and she pulls on the strands, making me grip her even harder. Goddamn, I want more. But I find one tiny bit of control, holding myself back just a hair before I go completely caveman on her and ravish her like the goddamn damsel she is.
She starts to grind into my hips, and my hand slides from her hip to her ass, pulling her onto my dick, making sure she feels everything she is doing to me.
I drop my other hand from her face ready to pick her up and fuck her against the window or the couch or on the dining room table. The last thread of restraint disappearing by the second.
She groans into my mouth as I thrust my hips into hers, my fingers ready to slip under the panties she’s wearing until the shrill sound of my landline ringing breaks the moment.
I pull away from her, my breathing erratic.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
She tries to reach for me, but I pull away. “That may be an emergency. I should take it.”
I don’t even look at her face but know that disappointment is written all over it. But we had to stop. I needed to stop before I did something I would regret.
Silence overtakes the house as I make us a quick dinner. She retreated to the bedroom after I got off the phone with my dad. He’s the only one with the number to that phone. Luckily, all was okay. He was just grumpy and pissed off that he ran out of beer and couldn’t get to the store because his truck was stuck in the snow. I breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t able to drive because it never would have ended with a good outcome.
I call for Penelope, but she doesn’t answer so I head down the hall toward my bedroom to find her sitting in the chair by the window reading the book I had been reading this week.
“Dinner’s ready.”
She looks over at me, and I can tell she’s been crying. Her eyes are slightly puffy and red. “Okay.”
She stands quickly, setting the book down on the side table. She’s wearing nothing but one of my oversized T-shirts, and I fight the beast in me that still wants her, that likes seeing her in my clothes.
I grab her arm as she walks past me. “Everything okay?”
She shakes me off her and looks up at me. “Everything’s peachy.”
She skirts past me, and I let her go. I know she’s pissed. I know she wanted more. But what was I supposed to do? I can’t have her. I shouldn’t have even kissed her.
We eat dinner in silence, and she offers to clean up the kitchen again, but I tell her I’ll handle it.
When I walk out of the kitchen, I don’t expect to find her on the couch curled up under a blanket. I thought she would have retreated back to the bedroom.
“Do you want to watch a movie?”
I shove my hands in the pockets of my sweats and look up at the TV. She is hovering over some superhero movie that came out last year. “Sure.”
By the time the movie ends, I’m yawning and ready to catch some sleep. On the couch. Definitely not in the bed with her again. I don’t think I have any self-control left for that.
“I hate these stupid movies,” she says.
I raise a brow at her. “Then why’d you pick it?”
She shrugs. “Thought you would want to watch it. Derrick always wanted to watch these stupid superhero movies.”
I laugh. “I’m not Derrick. I actually prefer dramas over this shit.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whines. “I thought you were enjoying it the whole time.”
“I think I nodded off a few times,” I tell her honestly.
“Ugh, what a waste of time. Just like all those stupid nights I was with Derrick.”
I have no idea where the hatred for her ex suddenly came from, and I don’t really know what to say. “I’m sure you had some great times with him. I mean you did travel the world with him.”
“Yeah, but maybe I should have done it alone.”
“Would you have?”
She looks at me curiously. “Why would you say that?”
“I just mean if you could travel solo now, wouldn’t you be doing it?”
She scoffs. “I told you I’m not traveling because I ran out of money.”
“You sure it’s because you don’t want to do it alone?”
She glares at me. “Stop trying to pick me apart.”
I hold up my hands in defense. “I was just asking a question.”
She huffs, and I think she is going to yell at me, but she doesn’t. “You’re right. I don’t know if I would have. It was just so easy to run away with him when I first met him in Chico. I just thought I was so in love. I guess I was. But I was stupid too. I didn’t know that he was cheating on me.”
I never understood why people cheat on other people. If you feel like you need to start looking for something else, then just end what you have. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugs. “It is what it is. You know, when he broke up with me, I thought it was just because we couldn’t afford to travel anymore and that was all we really had. But no, he was talking to this girl we met in Phuket who was traveling solo. She was so nice to us and super helpful, even gave us this long list of places to go to around Southeast Asia. I had no idea he slipped into her DMs months ago when things started to become a strain on us.”
I reach over and rest my hand on her calf and give a light squeeze. “He sounds like an asshole. But I know there were good days. Just remember those. Not every relationship you have is going to be perfect. Remember that.”
“I guess you’re right.” She stares off into the fireplace for a few moments. “Sorry you had to watch that stupid movie.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Yes, it was.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “You’re right, it was.”
“Well, I guess I should head to bed. It’s late. But my dad said that I might be able to get home tomorrow.”
Disappointment hits me square in the chest. I don’t want her to leave. I’ve been enjoying my time with her instead of just sitting here alone in my thoughts every day. “Yeah, you might. As long as the roads are plowed, I should be able to get you home and hopefully find a tow for your FJ.”
She yawns and stands up, stretching her arms above her head, lifting up the T-shirt of mine she is wearing. I look away before I get any more stupid ideas.