Page 13 of Infinite as They Come
I heard some noise to my right and looked over to see Holly. She was stepping out of the bathroom, a white towel wrapped around her body as she gripped the neck. Her golden skin was glistening with droplets of water as she took a few more steps into the room, her eyes brightening a little as we stared at each other.
“Itisyou,” she said. “Lucky me.”
No, lucky me, because as she dove through one of her bags all I could think about was how damn good she looked while doing something so casual. It was impossible not to stare at her. I could see her curves even through the towel: those rounded hips and the dip of her waist and the way the material strained against her chest. It was probably some cheap dollar store towel, and the fact that she was using it when she had those fancy Egyptian cotton ones or whatever the hell they were at home made me stare at her even more, my eyes dragging up and down her body. She pulled something out of her bag, all flimsy and lacey and pink, before peering over her shoulder at me. Maybe she felt my eyes on her.
“What?” she asked, a shy smile spreading across her lips.
My head shook slowly. She always looked beautiful. Like a goddamn dream come to life. Those Bambi eyes and her long lashes. Long, silky hair. Perfect bronzed skin. How lucky was I that I got to see her and feel her and hold her? That she wasn’t just in my head? That she wasn’t just real, butall mineas well?
“What is it?” she asked, that shy smile still there on her face.
My head tilted, taking all of her in. Every inch. “It’s been so long since I last painted you, baby.”
Teeth biting into her bottom lip, she held the towel against her a little tighter. “It’s been, like, two weeks.”
I had painted her a million times, had seen her naked so many times I lost track, but she still managed to get all shy on me sometimes. So fucking cute.
“Exactly,” I said. “Such a long time.”
“So, what, you wanna paint me like this?” she asked softly. “In my towel?”
“Well…” My eyes lowered for a second, to her smooth thighs where the edge of the towel stopped. “You could always take it off.”
Those cheeks somehow got even redder. “You’ve never painted me… like that.”
“I know, baby,” I said. “I won’t make you do it if you don’t wanna.”
“I… I don’t mind,” she whispered. “You know I trust you, Sawyer. What do you want me to do?”
Humming, I stood up and laid my hands against her waist, guiding her backwards, moving her closer and closer to the bed. “You could keep the towel on. Or take it off. Up to you.”
Her fingers toyed with the top of the towel, giving me a little nod. “I’ll take it off,” she said softly. Tucking her thumbs into the towel, she gave it the softest of pulls, letting it hit the floor with a little thud.
My palm rested against her cheek, my fingers holding her in place as I pressed my lips to hers. It was a gentle kiss, soft and slow, because there was nothing I hated more than rushing things with Holly. I loved taking my time with her and feeling every last part of her, focusing on all the little details. The way her eyes would flutter closed, or how she’d whimper out my name, or how her fingers always clawed at my hair as she tried to tug me in closer. That was one of my favorites. How she’d pull at my strands tight, especially when she was close to the edge, like she needed something to hold to keep her from falling apart.
The little moan she let out had me groaning, my other hand lowering to the small of her back to push her against me. Her body was still a little wet, her fingers damp as they moved through my hair, stroking through mylocks. I was getting too excited, so I pulled away from her, watching as her eyes slowly opened up.
“Lie down for me, princess,” I said, giving her a quick, soft kiss. “Use the sheet if you’re feeling shy.”
She nodded and sat at the edge of the bed and I finally got a chance to look at her properly. Flushed cheeks. Thighs pressed together. Round tits and perfect brown nipples that I had to resist the urge to lean down and take into my mouth and suck and lick. She scooted back more and more until she was at the center of the bed, turning a little so that she was resting on her side. Stretching a hand out, she grabbed one of the pillows, cuddling it tight to her as she rested against it, a single pretty nipple on show. One of her hands grabbed at the sheet, letting it drape against her round hips.
“Like this?” she asked, her lashes all dark and long as she batted her eyes my way. So sweet, so innocent. As if I had never seen her like that before.
“Yeah, honey, like that,” I said, voice suddenly a little too rough. Christ, maybe this was a bad idea. “Whatever feels comfortable. Let me get everything ready.”
I dragged the chair and table I had been sitting at earlier to the front of the bed and coated the palette with a few different colors. When I was good to go and took a seat in front of Holly with the canvas pad tilted towards me, she still had that same look on her face, all timid looking with flushed cheeks and wide Bambi eyes. Painting her didn’t capture how gorgeous she really was. It never did. I wondered if I would ever crack the code. If one day I could take all of that beauty in front of me and copy it. Color for color, curve for curve. She was too special for there to ever be another version of her, though. It made sense in a way. That perfection? It couldn’t be mimicked. Just admired. And I’d admire her for the rest of my life.
“You okay?” I asked, dipping the brush into some of the brown paint.
She nodded. “Yeah. Just… don’t know what to do.”
“You’ve done this before.”
“Not like this.” She pressed her face into the pillow. “This is different.”
“Sweetheart, how many times have I made love to you?” I asked. “How many times have I had you under me, completely bare, legs wrapped aroundme? And now you’re getting all shy on me?”
“I get shy when you stare,” she whispered, finally looking back at me.
