Одри Карлан - February (Calendar Girl #2)

“Do you? Could have fooled me,” he responded flippantly before tossing back a heavy slug of the red wine.

“You think you know me? After only a few days?” I ground my teeth together and narrowed my eyebrows.

Alec’s lips pinched together and he turned his head and looked at me. That look said it all. Frustration, stubbornness and something else. “I think I know you better than you know yourself, or at least better than you will admit to yourself,” he came close and cupped my cheek. I pushed it away and hopped back on one foot, protecting my ankle.

“What? You think because you’re an ‘artist’ you have some type of special ability to read people? If that’s the case, your magic is way off, Frenchie, because the last person I want to be near right now is you!” I slammed my glass down on the counter and the wine sloshed out both sides onto the counter. “Fuck!” I hobbled over to the paper towels and pulled frantically at the roll, grabbing far too much for the tiny spill.

“Let me,” Alec tried to grab for the towels. Again, I shoved him away.

“I’ve got it. I’ve been cleaning up my messes and everyone else’s most of my life. I can handle a tiny spill,” I sniffed, holding back the damned emotions that were hanging just at the surface ready to break free. There was no way I was allowing myself to break down now. He’d see me as being weak, useless.

He pulled back and held up both hands, palms facing me. “Okay, okay, Je suis désolé. Sorry,” he repeated in English.

I knew I was being a bitch. This wasn’t his fault. He didn’t do anything to warrant me treating him poorly. Once I’d wiped up the mess, he handed me a newly opened bottle of wine. I poured more in my glass.

“Talk to me, ma jolie . I am here. I want to be here for you,” he said softly. I caught his gaze and could see he meant it. There was no pity in his tone or his eyes. Just concern.

“Alec, I’m sorry. It’s just, doing the shoot today, when you asked me to think of a happy time, it brought back a great memory. Only that memory was smashed by another that was very painful. It was a time in my life I still haven’t been able to work through. That’s all. It’s not you.” I leaned forward and wound my arms around his body, and laid my head against his warm chest. I nuzzled there smelling his fresh woodsy scent. He held me close, wrapping both arms around me. One hand slid up and down my spine comforting me in a way only a man of his size could.

“I get the feeling you’ve spent a great deal of your life taking care of others, oui ?”

Instead of responding, I just nodded against his chest not wanting to see his eyes. He took a deep breath and squeezed me tight. “So now, ma jolie , it’s time you take care of yourself, oui ?”

Again, I nodded from the safety of my hiding place.

“I shall help you. This project, Love on Canvas, will be an outlet. Together, and for the eye of the beholder, we will find you some peace, and I shall show you through art how perfect you are.” He pulled me back by the shoulders. I took a hand and wiped away the tears. I didn’t even realize I was crying before looking up into his beautiful eyes. They were so serene, yellow with warm brown flecks swirling happily. I couldn’t look away, didn’t want to. “This will be my best work yet and through it, you will find a piece of what you need to move forward.” He smiled wide then leaned forward. And finally, Alec kissed me the way I’d wanted to be kissed since I first saw him in person.

Deep.

Wet.

Long.

His lips formed to mine. He leaned forward and pressed his frame against mine until I was caged by the counter and his arms on either side. I lifted both hands, and starting at his stomach, I felt him. Finely sculpted abs, each bump a road I wanted to travel with my tongue. His pecs were hard slabs of muscle under the thin fabric of his t-shirt. Once I reached his neck, I pushed up a few more inches and let my fingers glory in the silk of his hair. He’d pulled it down at some point, and right then, I couldn’t be happier. He tilted my head to gain deeper access and his hands came into play. I was definitely enjoying his version of play.

Alec caressed my body like he was painting a canvas. Soft strokes here, harder ones there. All meant to seduce. I wanted his hands all over me—without the clothes. My foot was starting to throb painfully as I kept trying to put it down on the floor so I could pivot onto my toes to reach higher, press more of my body into his. Frustrated I jolted back, his lips leaving mine in an audible smack.

“What’s the matter?” He asked taking heavy breaths I felt puffing against my face. His eyes held concern, but I cupped his cheek and caressed his moist lip with my thumb.

“My foot…it hurts. I need to…lie down. Bed?” I said as winded as he was from our kiss.

He grinned wide, placed his hands on my ass and lifted me up. Instantly, I wound my legs around his trim waist. “My pleasure, ma jolie .” He carried me to the stairs and slowly climbed them, treating me as precious cargo, planting soft kisses along my neck as he went. When we made it to the bed, he held me tight, placed a knee on the mattress and leaned down, never dropping me in the process. The thought of his strength and power hovering over me sent me into an upward spiral of want.

Once I was flat, I pushed my hands under his shirt to get at his skin. Fumbling, I yanked at it, and he leaned up and whipped it off his head, tossing it behind him. Then he unbuttoned the few buttons on his jeans and left them open. I could see nothing but bare skin, soft tuffs of russet hair and a bit of his hard dick. Frenchie wasn’t wearing underwear. Fascinating.

“Commando?” I grinned.

His brows narrowed and he cringed. “ Quoi ?” he shook his head, “What?”

I placed my hands onto his waist then leaned up so I could slip them into the back of his pants to grip his bare ass. He groaned and flexed his hips when I did that. “You’re not wearing any underwear.”

Alec’s tongue came out to moisten his bottom lip. I stared at that lip like it held all the answers in the universe. “ Oui . I do not wear le caleçon. They are uncomfortable and unnecessary. Prevent me from getting to what I want faster. For instance, you.”

Then his body straddled mine, his lips trailing down my neck. It felt good. Better than good. He gripped both breasts over my shirt before leaning back on his haunches and doing away with it. The front clasp of my bra was opened and gone in what seemed like a blink. With his fingers, Alec traced patterns all over my naked chest. I closed my eyes and allowed him to touch me this way. A way I’d not been touched before. Almost reverently, like I was special, my body precious.

“ Vous êtes de l'art,” he whispered in French tracing the sides of my breasts and ribcage.

“ Vous êtes l'amour. ” His fingers skimmed the tops of each breast.

“ Vous êtes la beauté. ” His thumbs swirled in circles around my nipples.

I gasped and arched into his feather light touch. His words, along with those magical fingers, were setting me aflame. “What did you say?” I asked in a breathy whisper.

He leaned forward and kissed me above my heart. “I said that you are art.” Then he moved to my breasts and kissed the fleshy tops of each. I sucked in a breath and held it. “You are love.” His tongue came out and twirled around one peak, then the other, forcing a gasp out of me. “You are beauty.” His mouth encircled my nipple and sucked hard in long drawn out pulls until the areola was prickling with sensation and tight as a knot.

My hands were not idle. I ran my nails up and down his long back then curled my fingers into his hair. The strands of his long tresses dangled along my body as he made his way down my chest to my belly. With ease, he pulled off my pants and underwear simultaneously. He situated himself between my legs and lifted one in the air. He kissed my instep, up my ankle all the way to the back of my knee where he licked and nipped. I had no idea the back of my knee was such an erogenous zone, but hell, my sex was weeping for attention, and he hadn’t even touched me there yet. Alec repeated the same movement on the other side only taking extra special care not to tweak the dressing on my bad ankle. When he got to the back of my knee, I visibly shivered.