Page 26 of Scoring Chance
“I love celebrating with you!” Sydney looked at the beer and frowned a little. “I don’t like to drink while I’m painting, though.”
“Not a problem,” Dean opened a cupboard in the kitchen and was happy at what he saw. “We’ll improvise!” He shook a small packet of Kool-Aid.
Sydney slapped her hands and pointed at her boyfriend. “That’s bae right there.” She took out plates and helped herself to a slice of pizza. She took the plate back with her to the canvas. “I didn’t think you liked Kool-Aid, babe,” Sydney said with a bite in her mouth. “You never drank it when I was at your home.”
“Because you didn’t know how to make it right,” Dean carefully added sugar, “you never added enough sugar.”
“I didn’t want to contribute to drinking liquid diabetes.” Sydney defended. “It’s always too sweet.”
“Because you don’t know how to make it right!” Dean laughed. “It’s supposed to be sweet. Grape, red, blueberry….it’s not supposed to be a safe flavor.”
“Hah!” Sydney chuckled. “You said red.”
Dean stirred the concoction. “My friends used to tease me about red being my favorite flavor,” Dean chuckled, “they always said red wasn’t a flavor.”
“Red is too a flavor!” Sydney argued. “Yourfriendshad no taste!”
“I like your taste,” he took a gulp of Kool-Aid.
Sydney equally gulped before she let out a small sigh. The way he looked at her when he said it was so magical, as if they were the only two people on earth. They told each other a lie that they were better off being friends for now before they continued with rebuilding their relationship.
The elephant in the room was cramping her style.
She missed the way his shirts smelled, a bit of funk, cologne, and all Dean. She missed watching him trim his beard, being so meticulous with the scissors as if he were performing surgery. She missed the way he wrapped his legs and arms around as they slept, as if she was his personal snuggle buddy.
Sydney realized though they were “taking things slow”, that was never their MO. Dean lived hard and fast and Sydney was more than happy to ride shotgun or his face. “I thought we were taking things slow?”
“I’m fully clothed and so are you,” Dean pointed out, “I’m also standing several feet away from you. If we go any slower, I’ll be out on the street.”
“Come help me with this,” she changed the subject and beckoned him to her. “I’m working on a piece and I need your opinion on it.”
“Okay,” Dean walked over to his ex and stood next to her. He saw a faint outline of two bodies in a sexual position. A woman was leaned over on top of a man. She had one hand on his chest, while his hands were cradling her ass as she rode him.
Dean immediately thought about him and Sydney. As he viewed the drawing, it was easy to come to that conclusion. The woman’s hair was long and flowy while the man’s hair was splayed out behind him.
Dean also didn’t want to think he was looking at an erotic image of themselves when Sydney could’ve had someone completely different in mind. “What am I looking at?”
Sydney wanted to say he was looking at a self-portrait of themselves but kept that information private. “Do you feel anything about this? I’m trying to convey love and emotion.”
Dean twitched in his jeans again and adjusted his stance. “What’s it called?”
“Either Breakfast Can Wait or Insatiable. I can’t really decide between the titles.” She crossed her arms. “I was also thinking No Angel.”
“Well, no. Only one fits.” Dean walked over to the sketch and began tracing it with his fingers. “Your audience needs to feel the emotion of the people connected. What is she feeling? What is he feeling? What is transcending between the two of them? Are they in love? Are they in lust? When he enters her, what is going through his head? Does he just want to get his rocks off? Is that the father of her children? What’s going on here?” He was met with silence. “Sydney? Did I say too much—” He turned around and noticed she stripped down to her bikini bottom. She was topless.
Dean stared at the goddess before him. His eyes traveled from her painted toenails to her toned legs and abs. Tattoos graced her arms and Dean could admit she was the only girl who could rock a sleeve and still be sexy as all get out.
Her nipples were hard enough to cut glass and Dean could see the small rise of her chest. Vegas was officially a month prior and they’d played it safe. They went on dates but they’d never spent the night in the same bed again. Instead, they talked about anything and everything under the sun, sometimes with Dean leaving at daybreak.
Other than the intense dry humping session in Vegas, nothing physical past kissing occurred between the couple. They both felt that step would be taken when it appropriate and when they both were ready. It was no doubt in Dean’s mind where Sydney stood.
“Do we still have to take things slow?” She asked.
Dean peeled off his shirt. “Hell, no.” He walked over to Sydney and picked her up before laying her down on the sofa behind her. He shed his clothing and laid on top of her as they exchanged kisses.
Dean slid down Sydney’s body, softly kissing her breasts before he reached her navel, then finally, her bikini line. His hands slid all over her body, from her breasts down to her balls of her feet before he stopped at her sex. He spread her legs apart and pushed the bikini to the side as he took a small inhale of her.
He brushed his stubble against her inner thigh as his fingers traced her sex, studying the delicacy and intrinsic design of it. Dean’s hands curled underneath Sydney’s rear and he kissed her once before licking along her flower and pearl. His tongue slid up and down as his scratchy stubble tickled her below.
