Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Mila
“You’re joking?” I look at the building in front of me. It looks more like an abandoned warehouse, but Kash assures me that we won’t get murdered.
“Nope.” He smiles. “Don’t move.”
Climbing out of the vehicle, Kash comes around to my side, opening the door. “Let’s go, Sunshine. We still have one more stop.”
Walking side by side, I follow Kash into the large building and am surprised to find colorful artwork hanging all over. Some of the canvases are covered in neon paint, speckled haphazardly, while others are a little bit neater with neutral colors.
“I didn’t know places like this exist,” I tell him honestly. It’s not like I get out a whole lot, but it was only a half hour drive to Splatter it’s just in a different way.”
“So, what are we creating?” I gesture to the waiting canvas.
“Whatever the hell we want.” He smiles, grabbing a paintbrush. Dipping it into yellow paint, he hands it to me. “Ladies first.”
Walking over to the canvas, I start with small brush strokes. I have no idea what I’m doing, and no doubt it’s showing.
“Why are you painting?” Kash moves to stand next to me. He has his poncho on, goggles resting on his head. It’s not fair that he still looks attractive in them.
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”
“Not exactly. You fling it.”
“Fling what?”
“The paint. At the canvas. It’s called Splatter I don’t think it matters if you mix the colors.” He laughs.
Setting his brush down, he comes to my station. Without saying a word, he dips his finger in the red paint and lifts it for me to see. “Let’s test your knowledge, Mila. I’ll reward you for every answer you get right.”
I don’t even bother disguising the crack my voice makes. “Test? Reward?”
“Of course. We have to reward good behavior. Now,” He rubs his finger across my cheek, smearing the cold paint. “What does red and blue make?” he asks, dipping his finger into the blue paint next, repeating the process.
His touch is gentle as he swirls the two colors together.
Clearing my throat, I meet his eager gaze. “Brown?”
Smiling, he shakes his head. “Try again.”
“Green?”
“Mila...” His tone is playful, but I can hear the warning in his voice.
“Purple,” I murmur.
“Perfect.” He uses the hand on my cheek to hold me in place as his lips crash into mine.
This is what it’s like to be devoured. His mouth slants, kissing me hard as he steals the breath from my lungs.
I drop my brush and lean into his embrace.
Standing on the tips of my toes, I rise so I can reach him better.
Without missing a beat, Kash picks me up and walks toward the wall.
When I tighten my legs around his waist, he groans loudly.
Even through the denim, I can feel how hard he is already.
Using his hips to hold me in place, he pulls back, quickly nipping my lip. “Next question.” He dips his finger into the cup of red paint, then runs it down the side of my neck. “What do red and—” He pauses. Choosing another color, he follows the same path as before. “— yellow make?”
Fire. Taking a deep breath, I try to ignore the heat flooding my body, but it’s so hard. His kisses make me feel lightheaded, and I don’t want to give up this feeling. Not now, not ever. He’s winning this game more than I am.
Kash’s paint covered hand rests on my neck, his thumb keeping my chin in place. Leaning into his touch, I tilt my head closer to his, making him meet me halfway. When his lips are a breath away from mine, I close the distance and kiss him.
His responding moan spurs me on, and I stroke my tongue against his lips, asking for more. Not bothering to cover my whimper, I move against his hard body. He doesn’t leave me wanting. Kash tightens his hold and glides his tongue against mine, stroking it.
Moving my hands from around his neck, I attempt to thread my fingers into his hair but realize he has it tightly tied. Kash quickly yanks the tie from it, then lowers his head to kiss me again.
Pulling back slightly, I stop him. “Kash?” I whisper.
“Yes, Mila?” His chest rises and falls rapidly, eyes dark and focused on me.
“Orange. Red and yellow make orange.”
“Yeah, they fucking do.” He smirks right before smashing his mouth back to mine. My goggles go flying from my head, landing somewhere on the floor.
My hands immediately thread into his hair.
His brown strands are as soft as I remember, and when my nails scrape against the sides of his bare scalp, I feel the way his body shivers.
Tightening my legs around his waist, I’m acutely aware of the way his hands travel down from my neck to my ass, grinding my center against his body.
“Wait. Kash.” I pull back, trying to gulp in a breath. “We can’t do this here. What if they have cameras?”
“Then we’ll give them one hell of a show.
” He kisses a path down the side of my neck that isn’t completely covered in paint.
When his head tilts back up, I see a little orange paint coating his cheek.
Rubbing my hand against it, Kash leans into my touch.
“I’ll show all those fuckers watching exactly who you belong to, Mila. You’ll be my own work of art.”
“Kash...” My voice trails off when he nips my neck again. “Please.”
He must hear something in my voice because he sets me back onto my feet.
Kash doesn’t move away; instead, he puts both arms on either side of my head, resting his forehead against mine.
“I would give anything to sink into you right now. I’d rip those fucking leggings from your sexy thighs and bury my face there.
I’d eat you until you screamed my name, letting everyone know you’re mine, then I’d fuck you until you felt me every time you took a step for the next month.
Our first time together isn’t going to be here against a wall.
We’ll come back for that,” he promises, taking a step back.
My insides clench at his words. First time?
Kash looks at the canvas behind me with approval. “This is going above our bed.”
Turning to follow his line of sight, I see the paint I flung at it earlier no longer holds the same shape.
Instead, it’s now mixed in various areas, with only a few small lines intact.
There are fingerprints in different colors, and it looks like someone used their hands to mark it instead.
Looking between Kash and the canvas, I’m struck with the best idea.
Most of the canvas is now various shades of orange, yellow and red. Dipping the brush into the blue paint, I gesture for Kash to give me his hand. When he holds it out, I run the brush across his palm and fingertips, making sure to cover it completely.
I press his hand against the canvas for a moment, then pull it back. In its place is a perfect, large, Kash-sized handprint. Dipping a different brush into the red, I cover it and hand it to Kash.
He takes the brush from me and coats my palm and fingers in the paint. It’s cold and wet against my heated skin. Pressing my handprint on top of his, I stand back and admire my handiwork. In between all of the other colors, our handprints now rest in the center.
After wiping the paint from his hand, Kash quickly reties his hair, his movements jerky. As soon as he’s done, he grabs mine and repeats the process. His movements don’t slow down—if anything, they speed up.
“Kash?” I question. He seems off. “Is something wrong?”
Dropping my hands, he walks to the wall and removes the canvas. When he turns back to face me, his expression is serious. “Home. Now.”
“What? Are we done?” I thought we’d be here for a little while longer, at least. “Your canvas isn’t done.” I point to his almost-blank project on the wall.
Following my hand, he shrugs. “This is the only one we need.”
“Well, what if I want it for in the kitchen?” He used yellow and green, and it reminds me of spring. It’d be nice to have to look at on the long days at work.
“What my girl wants, my girl gets.” He yanks the second canvas off the wall and stalks toward me. “Whatever she wants, she gets.” Leaning down, he quickly drops a kiss to my lips. “Let’s go. We have one more stop to make before I can take you home.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
Tilting my head to the side, I take a deep breath. Here we go. “I mean, I want to go home. With you. Now. Not later.”
For a moment he doesn’t respond, then a huge smile breaks out across his face.
“As you wish, my Mila.”