45. Something Spectacular
SOMETHING SPECTACULAR
Ivy
Fingers glided down my side, the movement calming and arousing in one bundle as my eyes leisurely blinked open, only to find my favorite set of endless blues staring back at me.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice soft in the quiet of the bedroom.
I shrugged. “What should I be ready for?”
He smiled then, one of his true and unabashed grins. “Something spectacular that you’ll love. Dress comfortably. I’ve already got everything else packed.”
I arched a brow at him. “Oh. Well, okay then. I guess I need to get up and get dressed.”
“Yes. Yes you do.”
He stood then, and I realized he was already fully dressed.
A pair of khaki cargo shorts and sneakers so different from his normal attire, but no less impeccable on him.
The black T-shirt stretched perfectly across his chest, and I had to mentally remind myself I’d be with him all day.
Possibly even alone. Which wasn’t something we’d had before.
Normally we had Sunny as a buffer, or his family. We’d be out in public if we were alone or in bed for the night. This was a first as far as being alone all day long, and based on his attire, we wouldn’t be out in public.
“Are we hiking somewhere or something?” I questioned as I got out of bed and started digging through the drawers he’d started moving my things into.
“Or something. Sneakers and shorts should be fine.”
I shook my head. “Okay, Mr. Mysterious. Got it.”
The next thirty minutes or so was spent dressing and getting myself together, trying to mentally prepare for whatever it was this man had planned. Even though something told me no amount of mentally prepping would fully prepare me for anything Oliver Carragan brought to the table.
Okay, so not hiking. But we were on horseback, which we’d been on for almost an hour now.
“You Carragan boys really enjoy the outdoors as a first-date spot,” I murmured from beside him. “Although I guess that only rings true if you include running through the woods as Wyatt and Ember’s first date.”
Oliver released a chuckle from beside me. He had a backpack strapped to his back, and he’d given me one as well, and while mine was relatively light compared to his, he hadn’t let me investigate what either contained.
“I do consider that their first date. Growing up, our parents had us outside a great deal of the time. I imagine it was hard having five kids under one roof all the time, so it feels natural for us to want to share that love with the women we…” He cleared his throat before continuing. “Care about.”
My eyes took in the forest around me as I chided myself for wishing that sentence ended differently. This thing between us had been a whirlwind, and I was over here, ready for him to confess his love? I needed to take a breath.
“You don’t talk about him much. Your dad, I mean,” I said instead.
He shrugged, his eyes ahead on the path he’d guided Dash and Clover onwards.
“Not much to say that hasn’t been said, I guess. But you can ask questions if you want to. I’ll always be an open book for you.”
I thought about the conversation with Todd that I’d had all those weeks ago at The Raven.
Him corning me in the bathroom. The fact that I should’ve immediately told Oliver about it, but chose to wait until he literally dragged it out of me.
And since the moment he knew, I felt as if a weight had been lifted from my chest.
I wasn’t alone. Someone else was standing beside me to deal with life.
But we hadn’t spoken about it since. He’d told me not to worry, and while I’d love to say I could listen when needed, the anxiety of it all was starting to dig its way back into my conscious thoughts.
“What was he like?” I asked, forcing my mind on the here and now. What I could actually control.
“Funny,” he said without any pause. “Always had a lame joke to throw into a tough conversation. Gentle when needed, yet firm when it called for it. I aspire to be half the father he was. What about you? What’s your dad like?”
I thought about the question for a moment.
“My dad is a lover of all things factual. He loves learning above all else. Everything with him growing up was some sort of lesson, but never in the way you’d expect or hate.
Just in a way that made learning fun and exciting.
” I paused, chewing on my bottom lip for a moment before continuing.
“They want to meet you, ya know. My parents, I mean. They know we’re… involved, you could say.”
He arched a brow at me, his eyes momentarily widened. “Oh, do they now? Involved how?”
His voice held a small bit of humor in it, and I couldn’t stop the blush that rose onto my cheeks.
“Yeah. They know we’re like…dating or whatever, I guess. I mean, they know you from when they taught you in school, but obviously it was quite a while ago.”
“Calling me old, baby doll?” he asked with a smirk.
“Yes. Very much so.”
When we finally stopped, I was ready to crawl off Clover and stretch for the next hour minimum. My feet slid to the ground, the maneuver almost natural now that I’d been riding more with Oliver and Aspen.
Oliver took the reins from me, tying Dash and Clover to a nearby tree so they could relax while we did…
whatever it was he had planned. His hand slid into mine as he directed me up another small hill.
Trees towered over us in every direction, but that wasn’t what caught my attention the further up we went.
As we crested the incline, I heard it—rushing water.
“Where—” I began, but his hands slid to my waist, turning me towards one of the most breathtaking sights I’d ever seen.
We stood on the edge of a small clearing, and to our left was a massive wall of rock, and coming down the middle of it was a fucking waterfall.
“That’s a waterfall. Like…a real one,” I muttered. More to myself than to Oliver.
He chuckled, though, clearly amused by my astonishment. “It is. Figured it was almost as stunning as you, so it would work well for my plans.”
I spun around to stare at him. “What are the plans?”
He shrugged, walking over to the middle of the clearing and taking off his backpack.
“Backpack?”
“Oh, yeah.” I shrugged out of the straps and handed him the bag. He unzipped it, pulling out a large blanket, which he spread around where we were standing. Then he pulled out a small box, handing it to me.
“Pick two colors.”
I stared at the box, confused as I pulled out a tray that held tubes of various colored paint.
“Um, are we painting?” I asked as I picked my two colors and handed him back the box.
“Sort of, yes.” He glanced over at the colors I’d chosen—pink and yellow—and pulled out blue and purple for himself, then returned the box back in my backpack. He set his paints down on the blanket and then pulled out a cardboard tube from his backpack.
“What the heck is that?” I wasn’t sure if I’d ever been more confused than I was right now.
“Paper,” he replied with a smile.
He pulled out a large roll of paper from the tube, only to spread it out on the blanket, setting our bags on either corner to keep it flat. It was probably slightly shorter than me when spread out, and all I could think was that I didn’t have anything that big to paint, and the confusion continued.
“Now, listen before you ask more questions,” he began, turning back to look at me. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but in your library-slash-office-space, I left a rather large empty spot on the wall. Given what it’s going to be, I feel as if this will be the perfect piece to have on the wall.”
“And that art is…” I trailed off. “What, exactly?”
He smirked. “Strip, baby doll.”
I felt my eyes widen as I looked around, as if someone was just waiting to jump out and call the cops on us for public nudity or something. “Excuse me?”
“Strip. Clothes off. Let me see you.”
I hesitated, only for it to click in my head exactly what his plan was. “Wait, are we going to…” My eyes dropped to the paper, and it all slid home. “We’re body painting? With a canvas?”
“That’s the plan. So, once more, strip, baby doll.” His voice was at ease, but the command was clear, and my hesitation evaporated as I pulled the shirt up and over my head.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but the other side of me—the side that trusted Oliver implicitly—decided I truly didn’t care. I’d do what he told me because I knew I was safe.
Next were my sneakers as I stepped onto the blanket, avoiding pine needles on the forest floor, and then my shorts.
He matched me, move for move. His shirt tossed in a pile.
His sneakers. Shorts. All off to the side.
We stood in front of each other, his cock already half hard beneath his briefs.
I pulled off the bra and panties, my eyes never leaving his. And once more, he matched me.
Before I knew it, we were standing before each other, naked, with only the sounds of our breathing and the forest surrounding us. It was easily one of the most erotic things I’d ever done. But it wasn’t until he picked up a tube of pink paint and unscrewed it that my heart rate picked up.
He smirked, like he knew exactly what watching those hands of his work on anything and everything did to me.
Squirting a small amount of pink paint onto the tip of his finger, he stood before me, his finger starting at my shoulder until it dragged paint down my bicep.
He continued this. One finger, a bit of paint, drawing thick lines along my body. His finger grazed slow and steady, his eyes never leaving his work as he went down my sternum and around my navel.
I turned, grabbing the purple paint, but he took it from my hand. He squeezed bits of yellow and purple along the canvas, until he was satisfied and stood before me once more.
“Did you know,” he began, his voice soft in the otherwise silent space, “the first time I saw you, I couldn’t admit it then, Ivy, but you looked like home.”