Fourteen
Celia heard León knock on her back door at dawn.
She’d gone to her own bed very late, alone, floating up the lawn in a euphoric haze. She couldn’t have told even León what she was feeling, her world a feast of jumbled indulgences.
She must have slept in the few hours before he knocked but couldn’t have sworn to it.
“You can just come in,” she said as she opened the door, feeling strangely shy.
His smile was intimate. “I didn’t want to presume.”
He then presumed, sliding arms around her waist and pulling her tight for a long kiss. Oh lord.
“The thing is,” he said quietly between kisses, “I want to get to work.”
She would do anything he wanted.
“I wondered, what if we use your craft room? It has the skylight, but you won’t be in direct sun.”
“Oh.” She dropped her eyes. “Yes, but…well, look.” She led him to the door, opening it so he could see the wild paint spatters for himself.
His froze, eyebrows raised. “What happened?”
“I got mad,” she said. “I need to clean it up, I guess.”
He laughed heartily. “Spontaneous expression in its rawest form. Good for you.”
The admiration that softened his voice surprised her. When he reached out to touch his fingertips to hers, she flushed at the gesture.
What a silly mess, Celia Rose.
“What?” León asked.
She blinked. Had she said that out loud? Oh no.
“Uh,” she stammered. “Well. My mother called me Celia Rose when I…got in trouble.” It was too early to overshare.
León put his arms around her waist, unconcerned. “Celia Rose,” he murmured, tilting his head to consider her. “That’s way too pretty to scold a girl with.”
She smiled weakly.
“We’re taking that name back,” he said.
It was too early for that, too. She shied away, taking his hand and stepping out of his embrace.
“We could use the other room for painting,” she said, leading him further down the hallway to a door near the entry. Inside was a bare room, completely empty, a twin to the craft room.
His mouth fell open at the sight. “I thought this was a closet! You have rooms you never even open?”
She clutched at the doorknob, chest tight. “Some people have too much house.”
He walked in, turning around to gauge the space. An identical skylight illuminated it brightly, the sun falling on one wall. The pale caramel wood floor stretched bare, bouncing and warming the light.
“We can work in here? You don’t mind? Paint will get on the floors, guaranteed. No amount of drop cloths ever stop it all.”
She nodded. “If it’ll work for you. It’s just sitting here.” She looked down, cheeks starting to heat. “Does paint come off of wooden floors? Could I clean the other room?”
“Depends on the paint and the floors. Paint does get into seams in the wood. It might have to be refinished.”
She filed that away for later. But, right now—her train of thought was broken by sounds from both of their phones.
“Oh,” she said, reminded as she checked the notification.
León’s brows furrowed in annoyance as he read his. “I forgot they were all coming tonight.”
“If you need to work, we can put them off.”
“Well,” he said, “It’s up to you. I know you can only sit for a few hours, anyway. I can always pick it up after they leave.”
As Celia texted the group, he turned in a quick circle, looking at the room again.
“Can I bring my gear in?”
“I’ll help.”
It didn’t take long, the pool house quickly emptying. Celia caught him eyeing her surreptitiously as his possessions filled her empty room. Did he see the implication too? Neither said anything.
While he got ready to start, Celia made tea and sandwiches. He looked at her gratefully when she brought them in.
“Look at you. All I have to do is paint.”
“And teach.”
“If I can finish these in time, I could make a sale.” He grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I can see each one if I close my eyes, Celia. This’ll be worth it, you’ll see. Everyone will see.”
She handed him his teacup. “It’s worth it even if the paintings are no good.”
He set the cup down on the chair without looking and pulled her into his arms, brushing his cheek against hers, moving in for a kiss. Her heart pounded. It was still so new.
The momentary silence was sweet.
“This means so much, Celia,” he finally murmured. “I’ll show you. I’ll earn every meal you make for me. Your talents will be part of this, you’ll see.”
Talents? Making sandwiches? She enjoyed feeding people, but it was hardly art. But posing, supporting an artist’s work, maybe that was closer?
León started a purple painting. He wanted her in that long-balanced pose from the night before when she turned off the lamp. “While the memory is fresh,” he grinned.
The pose was uncomfortable, but she could hold it for five-minute stretches. An oscillating fan kept her cool even as white sun through the skylight inched closer. The smell of paint wafted to her every time the fan turned.
“Don’t you need purple light to paint this?” she asked. She couldn’t watch him covertly in this position, but it wouldn’t stop her from trying to learn.
“No, this one’s more abstract. I need your lines but can supply the colors myself.”
She could hear the tinkling sound of him cleaning his brush.
“Although,” he said, “it’s a little hard from memory.”
The tinkling stopped.
“Celia.” León cleared his throat, so she looked over, breaking the pose. “I said it’s a little hard from memory.”
He glanced down, his loose pants doing nothing to hide a clear outline. She snorted, body shaking with suppressed laughter.
When she looked up next, León stood next to her, smug and delighted.
“Definitely time for a break,” he said. “Are you sore?”
She nodded, rising to stretch and flex to relieve her joints. He moved behind her to rub her shoulders. She closed her eyes, savoring the new feel of his hands on her skin. As he placed a kiss on the back of her neck, she forgot about the soreness. She’d put up with pain if this was the reward.
“I can work alone for a bit,” he said. “Do you want to go cook? Swim? Just relax?”
Well. His consideration for her was sweet. She’d follow his lead.
“I could cook if you really don’t need me.”
“Go on,” he said, planting another gentle kiss on her shoulder. She turned to meet his eyes, loathe to go, but their friends were coming. She’d have to serve something.
She made a fresh corn salad, put yesterday’s roast back in the oven to come to temperature before shredding, and started dried chilis and onion on a low boil to make a spicy sauce. It was all simple scratch cooking, only unique because she put in the time. Time was the one thing she had to offer.
Looking at the clock on the stove, though, she realized it was already late afternoon. Hours had flown by today, beyond her notice. Now, that was novel!
When she brought León more tea, he jumped at her entrance. “You walk so quietly!”
It had been a long time since someone had noticed that.
He sniffed at the open door. “What heaven did you make?” he asked, astonished. It was beyond gratifying.
“Pork and chilis.”
“When?” He set down his tea untouched, then covered his paints. “Here, I’ll wrap up and we can go to the kitchen.” He stepped aside so she could see the painting. “What do you think?”
It was in the same style as the blue painting, with angles and shapes created by layering colors on top of each other. A figure stretched out like a leaping greyhound, attenuated, shadowy. Untouchable, like a ghost. It felt…sad, but not.
“It’s beautiful,” she said. “I was just turning off a lamp, but this is so graceful.”
“It’s all you, Celia. The part of you I can’t touch yet.” He covered his brushes, reached for her, and brought her in for another kiss. “I like the parts of you I can touch. When are they coming?” His hands roamed over her back, igniting that slow fire again.
“Soon. It’s after five. They’re probably already on their way.”
“Where did the time go?” He began kissing her neck, and she trembled at the intimate touches of his lips.
The loose shift dress she’d put on to cook in did nothing to keep his hands from roaming every curve. They started at her hips, then roved around to her backside, pulling her to him. She could just catch the words he growled against her neck.
“Mi cielo, come here.”
She was more than ready for him, reaching to tickle her fingers up into his hair. It was pulled back into a bun she’d been dying all day to see loosened. She felt him shiver as she pulled the tie free, and his teeth grazed sharply at her neck where it met her shoulder. Before she knew it, he was moving at her, walking her backward, pushing her softly up against the wall.
One of his hands grabbed her wrist, pulling it down from his hair and kissing her fingers. His other lifted to her breast, cupping it roughly through the fabric. “Mi musa,” he growled, his eyes on hers for just a moment before he bent to her neck again. She felt a deep thrill at his demanding tone. It felt good to be wanted so insistently.
He bit and sucked at her neck, still holding her wrist by her head. His other hand left her breast to run down her body, fumbling for the hem of her dress.
His mouth on her took all of her attention, almost painful but erotic in its intensity.
“León,” she gasped as he bit a little too hard. He growled into her neck but switched to kissing the mark on her neck lightly. His hand finally found her hem and began slipping up under it. He bumped her hips back into the wall with his own, tickling her inner thigh with his fingers. He gave his mark one last kiss and then pulled back to look at it.
“There. You’re branded.” She gasped as his fingers finally went between her legs. His light touch on her was heavenly.
His eyes were back on hers, a devilish look in them. “I’m going to put that mark in the damn painting,” he threatened, low. His fingers slipped between her wet lips, his thumb wandering up to touch right where she wanted it, and she gasped. “You’re not untouchable, are you? Everyone who sees that mark will know I made it.”
His entitlement was an incredible turn-on somehow. Celia didn’t know yet if he meant it personally—he was always talking about painting when he got this way. Breathing hard, she leaned against the wall, pushing her hips into his hand. His eyes were reckless, lips curling into a smile as he watched her reactions.
The doorbell rang. Her eyes flickered to the door, but León ground his hand into her, weakening her knees.
“Early,” she gasped.
“I can make you see stars before you open that door,” he whispered. He finally released her wrist, only to firmly cup her face, his thumb dragging gently across her lower lip. “You want that?” She nodded mutely, panting lightly as he circled and teased at her with his thumb. “Say you belong to me.”
When she hesitated, he slipped a finger inside her. Her eyes closed again, and she leaned her head back against the wall, whimpering softly. He leaned in close, his mouth inches from hers.
The doorbell rang again.
“I’m going to get you to say that,” he murmured. His hand pulled away, then came back with two fingers sliding inside. He kissed her hard, holding her head in place. She moaned into his mouth as he continued moving slickly on her.
“I should just fuck you right here,” he breathed. “And you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”
She would indeed. She ran a palm down his forearm, holding him to her.
“Hey, are you here?” A voice came from inside the house, making them both jump.
Kelsey. She’d gone around and come in the back door.
León stopped his movements, fingers still inside her, and leaned back just enough to see her face. She saw the disappointment in his, but he paused to see what she wanted.
“One sec, I’m posing,” she called out, her voice creaky. “Get a drink.” That would keep Kelsey out of the room. She wouldn’t even know which room they were in—this one was never used. Celia kept her eyes on León, then felt for his wrist, leading his hand to continue moving. There would be no time for more, but she couldn’t let him stop now.
With her free hand, she reached up to that dark hair, running her fingers through it, pulling his head to hers for an impassioned breathless kiss. She could feel his erection hard against her hip, pressing against her as he continued moving his thumb in rough circles. He held her against the wall as she slumped down, leaning her weight into that hand.
The doorbell rang again.
“Get that?” she shouted. León started chuckling against her cheek, then laughing. She gritted her teeth.
“Talk to me,” she whispered. He laid his cheek against hers, breath tickling deliciously past her ear as he controlled her with his moving hand.
“My pretty Celia Rose,” he whispered. “Do you like it?” She held her breath, her whole body tense, too close to reply. “Do you want it?” His entire body was moving against her, in sync with his hand. “God, I want to take you right here.” His growl sent her over the edge, exploding with pleasure. As she trembled and shook, he kissed her deeply, muffling any sounds she made. He read her body so well, knew when to stop moving, and let her feel and experience her release. She wanted to slide down the wall, but he wouldn’t let her.
“Good girl,” he crooned, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “Celia, my girl.” As her breathing started to return to normal, he looked into her eyes again, satisfaction bright in his. “I’m going to get you to say it, you know.” His hand dropped to her neck, touching the mark he’d left there, and his lips curled into the wicked smile again.
She drew a deep breath and shook her head to clear it. Her eyes closed.
“I won’t,” she said quietly but with a smile. He slipped his hand from her and gave her a lingering kiss. Her entire body felt the sweetness.
“We’ll see.”
A knock sounded from the front door.
“That’s all of them,” she whispered. In the hallway outside, Andrew’s voice could be heard as he went to open the door to Trevor. León brushed gently at her hair, stroking it back into place.
“Why did we waste the day painting? I don’t want to stop.” He let out his own shaky sigh as he finally stood away from the wall, pulling her with him. Then he grinned. “Your cheeks are scarlet. They’re going to know. Want me to go out and say we were painting and that you’re getting dressed?”
She nodded, grateful. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, then looked down ruefully. He was obviously hard still.
“I’m going to carry a box out.”
They laughed together. Yes, there was no way this wouldn’t be obvious to everyone.
He matched action to words, picked up a large box of paints, and held them near his hip, looking nearly natural.
“Ready, mi cielo?”
“I…not really.”
He eyed her with wicked satisfaction. “Come out when you’re ready. I’ll give excuses.” He left, closing the door behind him. She could hear Andrew greeting him.
She just needed a minute or two to compose herself. Smoothing her hair and dress, she felt her cheeks. They were still hot. She walked to the purple painting, a distraction while she calmed down.
It was her, but not her. It wasn’t even a form, just shapes that assembled into a woman when you first looked, then came apart, then back together. He was heartbreakingly talented. She touched the mark on her neck, looking at the spot in the painting he’d have to add it. Would he really?
Why did he want her to say she belonged to him? The thrill when he growled it at her…was possession a turn-on for him, too, or was he teasing? She didn’t know him well enough yet.
She finally felt a little calmer and slipped out the door.
Kelsey came over immediately to hand her a drink. She’d clearly been hovering where she could watch the room León had exited.
“I made this for you,” she said, “and set out the food. Well, most of it was out already. I wasn’t sure what you were going to do with the pork, so I just turned it down.” Her eyes were avid, after details.
She wasn’t going to get them, not yet. “Thanks,” was all Celia said.
Kelsey’s eyebrows couldn’t get any higher. Just yesterday, she’d been listening to her cry about León, and today they were closeted up, supposedly painting, and coming out all flushed. It was obvious that they’d made up and then some.
Andrew came over and threw an arm around Celia’s shoulders. “León’s got you sitting for him, huh?” She nodded. “About time. Is he working on that blue one?”
“No, I think that one’s done. He’s onto purple now.”
Trevor joined as well, giving her a hug as Andrew moved back. Everyone had half-smiles on their faces. She hoped they wouldn’t say outright what they all seemed to be thinking. Celia looked around for León surreptitiously, but he wasn’t in the room.
Kelsey watched knowingly, never subtle. “He left right as you came out,” she whispered.
Celia moved resolutely to the kitchen, the group trailing after to gather around the kitchen island. She let them chatter while she quickly shredded a small chunk of the pork and finished her chili sauce. Cooking soothed her, and her friends gave her the space she obviously wanted right now.
Andrew moved to Celia’s side of the island. “Trevor says León was pretty snotty the other day. I’ll feel bad if I saddled you with an obnoxious tenant.”
Celia looked across the island. Trevor and Kelsey were heads down, talking. “He’s fine. He’s being nice.”
Andrew smirked, but kindly. “Putting more moves on you?”
“He’s painting me.”
He leaned his elbows onto the counter and looked into the drink he held in both hands. “That’s quite the mark on your neck.”
She reached up to touch it, cheeks suddenly burning. Both Trevor and Kelsey looked up to watch. Okay, so everyone had been waiting for it to be mentioned.
“Yeah, it’s….” She had nothing. They’d all guessed anyway. “Okay, yes, it’s not a secret or anything.”
“It couldn’t be,” Trevor said with a smile.
Kelsey leaned in. “Did León explain what happened yesterday?”
The two men looked at Kelsey, who obviously had more details than they did.
“Yes.” Celia couldn’t think of what else to say.
“Did he like the blue dress?”
“He liked it a lot,” León’s voice answered.
Everyone turned to see León closing the back door behind him, wearing his clean street clothes. He eyed the conclave in the kitchen, Celia covering her neck with one hand.
He walked over behind Celia and put his arms around her from behind in a natural, familiar gesture. Then, casually, he shifted his weight to lean between her and Andrew, who moved over to make room.
Everyone exchanged glances and faint smiles.
“What a shock,” Kelsey said dryly.
Trevor leaned on the island. “It is to me. That car ride while you were arguing, oof.”
León leaned his chin on Celia’s shoulder. “We got past it.”
While her friends chuckled, Celia tried to appear at ease. But there didn’t seem to be any respite from feelings! She wasn’t good at these whipsaw emotions.
The way he claimed her in front of the room, moving Andrew to the side! She basked in the feeling of being wanted, of him asserting his place by her, but there’d been no time to think it over. He’d accomplished it before she’d had a chance to react.
Her thoughts stopped when León subtly pulled her closer to him. Her backside was pressed against his hips, and the intimate touch shot electricity through her. How, when not fifteen minutes ago, she’d been panting and satisfied? Her insides whirled.
Would he want to stay with her tonight, in her bed? They could actually fall asleep there…after. They could wake up together. The suddenness with which he was moving into her life was both euphoric and terrifying.
León laughed over her shoulder at something Trevor had said. Celia realized she’d lost the thread of the conversation. She was still as frozen as she’d ever been, stuck in her thoughts. Sure enough, she looked up to see Kelsey watching her with amusement. Andrew too, who had moved to the other side of the island without her noticing. León had claimed both her body and her space near the stove.
She reveled in it, but it scared her. She wanted time to take it all in.
León leaned forward again to whisper in her ear as the conversation on the other side of the island turned to…something else. She never had picked up the thread.
“Can I stay in the house tonight?” he asked. “I want to be with you.”
Pleasure shot through her. She had to turn to whisper back to him, and he loosened his arms around her so she could face him.
“Of course, you can,” she whispered back. He smiled broadly, his eyes full of promise for later.
“Damn, the chemistry in this room is getting me hot,” Andrew complained. “Let’s go outside, so if they paw each other, at least it’s in the dark, and we can still talk.” Everyone laughed except Celia and León, but it was good-natured. Celia let them pick up the food and troop out to the firepit.
León kissed her before letting her move away, then reached up to touch the mark on her neck. He looked so pleased about it. She decided she would like it as well. Being claimed felt too good.