Page 7 of Announcing Love
A sexy smile flashed his way as Tip backed from his parking space. “I want you to show me these paintings you keep talking about.”
Artem cringed. “Are you sure? I’m a little… overly passionate when it comes to my art. You might run screaming from me after the millionth round of show and tell.”
A sexy chuckle caressed Artem’s ears and sent chill bumps down his spine before he circled around, making his stomach cramp with desire. “It’s okay. Don’t ever get me started on soccer. You’ll fling yourself from a building to get away from me.”
“I doubt it.” Even Artem heard the seriousness in his voice. Artem could listen to Tip talk all day, especially when he was ardent about something.
Thankfully, they made it back to Artem’s place without Artem blurting out how much he liked Tip. Of course, they still had to go inside. To Artem’s bedroom. Artem swiped his sweaty palms on his jeans as he led Tip inside. He knew they wouldn’t be sleeping together tonight. Artem was in charge of that, and hedidn’t know enough about Tip for all that. Knowing he would say no didn’t change how nervous felt.
“This way.” It hit him as he headed up the stairs that his room was a mess. It wasn’t like gross or anything, but his art supplies were everywhere, and his bed wasn’t made.
“You have a really nice ass.”
A bark of laughter burst from Artem. He glanced over his shoulder to where Tip climbed the stairs behind him. “Thanks.”
Tip wore an unrepentant smile.
Artem shook his head and kept going, twice as self-conscious as before. He practically felt Tip watching his every move. They finally made it to the third floor.
Artem flipped the light switch. “Please excuse the mess. I’ve been busy and I didn’t plan to bring anyone here.” He looked Tip’s way.
Tip had his gaze locked on the half-finished painting on the easel. He moved closer—like drawn by a tether. Artem watched with his bottom lip held between his teeth. While he was used to having his work critiqued for class, this was different.
He couldn’t let Tip go without getting the full effect. “It’s not finished, but hold on.” He grabbed his black light and turned the light off again. There was enough moonlight and streetlights toshow his way. Artem turned the easel slightly and then used his black light to highlight parts of the canvas, showing the hidden images in the paint.
“Goddamn, Artem. This is amazing.”
The genuine astonishment in Tip’s voice had Artem getting more excited by the second. “I have more.”
He moved to a stack of canvases against the wall and found his best. “This is my favorite.” Once again, he moved the light around the picture, showing its hidden messages.
For a while, Tip simply stared in silence. Finally, his gaze met Artem’s. “I can honestly say that I don’t really know anything about art, and I’ve never really been moved by it or anything. But this is stirring—like it made my throat swell. This is amazing. Why aren’t you rich?”
A nervous-sounding laugh escaped Artem. He turned off the black light. “You’re sweet.” He set the small flashlight aside and moved to turn on the lights.
Tip snagged his waist before he made it. “I’m being serious, Artem. Like that picture you took of me last night, you have something other people don’t. You see things in a way other people can’t, and you know how to capture it. I think you’re wonderful.”
Artem didn’t know what to say. He was a mixture of uncomfortable with the praise and unable to breathe properly, with Tip holding him and his stare.
Tip shuffled closer, invading his space. Artem was suddenly very aware of how much distance stood between them and the bed. Tip lowered his head. Artem kind of wanted to run. He had this sudden sure knowledge that Tip would destroy him. Then their lips bumped, and Artem started and jerked his head backward. It was like a static shock went through him. For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Then Tip was back. His tongue swiped Artem’s bottom lip, and all was lost. There was nothing anymore except Tip. When Tip took him down on the bed, Artem didn’t even fight it. Tip didn’t try for more. Their kiss stayed just that, even as it swung between heated and sweet and back again. Their fingers linked as their palms flattened against each other. Artem couldn’t hear or see. Tip’s scent lived in his nostrils, and the weight of Tip’s body was almost comforting. He was on fire, but Artem knew this was as far as Tip would go. There was freedom in the knowledge they sought a different connection than sex. It also fucked with Artem’s head. He hadn’t really thought Tip was the type to get serious. This felt like more than lust. Tip settled in like he planned to stay, and Artem savored every second. Life had been empty for a long time. It was way too easy to let Tip fill him.
Chapter Four
Thesoundofhisfeet slapping the treadmill was a familiar and comforting sound. It lulled Tip into forgetting he ran, making it easier for his thoughts to stay completely lost in Artem. He couldn’t stop picturing the way Artem looked when he left—asleep and mussed from Tip running his hands all over him. The image of Artem’s kiss-swollen lips had hunger pangs growing in his stomach. Tip still didn’t know why he hadn’t done more than make out and cuddle. He wasn’t sixteen. Tip was a grown man with adult desires. Yet, somehow, the night had felt like exactly what he needed. He was kind of shaken.
Part of Tip wondered if he should see Artem again. They were at very different places in their life and Tip didn’t do commitment. He already took care of everyone else. Tip didn’t need anotherrelationship to be responsible for. He was tired of keeping up everyone else’s expectations. His sex life was the one place he got to be selfish. Except Artem had been the one to take care of him. He had only asked questions about Tip, keeping the focus on him all night before paying for their dinner. Underneath him, Artem had stayed right there with him, giving him every ounce of his attention. He had made the world disappear. Tip was the most confused he had ever been. He never interrupted his workout sessions for anything. Tip was all about focus and being the best. His desire to check his phone and text Artem was almost crippling. It was dumb.
Artem was young. They were opposites in every way. Tip was grown and settled. Athletic and physical. Artem was just starting out in life and hadn’t established his place in the world yet. He was a dreamer who still lived with his family and saw the world through rose-colored glasses. They weren’t the same. This attraction was just like any other Tip experienced. It would pass. There was nothing between them. Once Tip fucked Artem, he would get bored. Artem had nothing to offer someone like him. In fact, Tip shouldn’t even be messing with the boy. He was too unseasoned. Artem should be out there playing the field and getting trashed at college parties. Tip should be… where? He wasn’t actually sure since retirement. Maybe he was just having some sort of midlife crisis, even though he wasn’t old enough for that bullshit. He needed to hit Area 9–an upscale nightclub—and find someone his equal. While Tip mentally cringed at that conceited thought, it was true. Artem didn’t fit in his world. They didn’t fit. Artem could never handle the real Tip. Most people couldn’t, but most especially not this college kid who was too pure for this world.
The doorbell rang, pulling Tip from his spiraling thoughts that got darker by the second. He stopped the treadmill and grabbed a towel before heading for the door. Tip wiped his face and tossed the towel on the couch before he opened the door. A local delivery service stood waiting. He smiled. “I have a delivery for Tip Ramos.”
“You got him.”
With a nod, the guy handed him a clipboard. “I just need a signature, showing you received your delivery.”
Tip signed and handed back the clipboard.
The guy turned and grabbed a box. He passed it along.
