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She brushed her fingers over her lips, remembering the feel of his kiss, then trailed them down her body—tracing the places he’d seared his touch on her skin.
The connection they’d shared had been deep and intense, like nothing she’d ever experienced before. But this time she hadn’t been scared, and she attributed that to having trusted him with her complicated jumble of emotions.
She left the shower to towel off and dress. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, nor stop craving his touch. Was this a normal way to feel when one had sex with a person one cared about deeply? Because she had no frame of reference, what with her avoidance ofanyone who might’ve been relationship material. What was she even supposed to call the tangled mess of emotion she was feeling anyway?
It had been rather difficult to leave Arran that morning, but she’d wanted a fresh change of clothes before heading back for another sitting. He’d asked her if she could return to get some more hours in, and she had of course been delighted to oblige.
Once she arrived back at his place, the butterflies were so intense that she had to take a few deep breaths, standing at his front door and feeling like a fish out of water. “Calm down,” she told her inner tangle of emotion.
No sooner had she pressed the doorbell than he answered, giving her the sweet feeling that he’d been looking out for her.
The sight of him enveloped her in a rush—the usual surge in adrenaline and joy, but this time an additional element of shyness that she hadn’t quite expected.
She wanted Arran to hug her, but instead he ushered her in with a smile and ran his hand over his hair as if he wasn’t quite sure how he should greet her. “I know this sounds dumb when we only saw each other a few hours ago, but it’s great to see you.”
The small needle of worry at his lack of physical contact melted in the face of that adorable statement. Liv relaxed a little.
She followed him into the studio and settled into her seat. “This sofa has definitely got a Liv-arse-shaped dent in it now.”
He glanced up to waggle his eyebrows at her. “Fine by me.”
She laughed, lifting her legs onto the couch to sit cross-legged.
He cleared his throat as he began to work. “Feeling okay, after earlier?”
Her cheeks heated up a couple of degrees and she shot him a smile. “More than okay.”
His face flushed, and he seemed as if he wanted to saysomething else, but then he turned back to the canvas and didn’t pass any more comment.
The time went a lot more slowly than usual, and it was clearly because of the sexual tension building in the room. Every time she looked at him, little snatches of the morning’seventsflashed in her mind’s eye. The sensation of his hands all over her. The scent of his skin. The way he’d moaned her name and the expression of rapture on his face.
All those thoughts were heating her body and causing her to shift uncomfortably in her seat. It was even worse when he made eye contact. Was he going to make a move?
Time dragged on, with Arran staying zeroed in on the task at hand, and something Brodie had said recently caused an idea to formulate in her mind. Perhaps there was a way to encourage Arran to make a move. It wasn’t like she had a problem with doing it, but shehadbeen the one to instigate it earlier, and she had to admit that his lack of tactile gestures since she’d arrived did have her feeling a little insecure.
She cleared her throat. “Are you nearly where you wanted to get to for today?”
He snapped his gaze from the canvas. “Yeah…I guess I am.” His features settled into a look of concern, and she hoped that was because he didn’t want her to leave yet.
She kept her voice casual. “Cool. Because I wondered…whether you’d do a quick charcoal sketch of me.”
His face immediately relaxed. “I’d love to.” He started gathering a sketch pad and a pencil, and Liv seized the moment to unveil her master plan—literally. She removed her glasses and began unbuttoning her shirt.
Arran lifted his head to glance at her, pencil and pad in hand. His eyes widened and he fumbled the pencil, partially catching anddropping it a couple more times before finally grasping it in his fist. “Ah…what’re you doing?”
She blinked, keeping her face neutral and tone nonchalant as she dropped the shirt to the floor and stood to unzip her jeans. “Didn’t I mention this was a nude?”
His eyes locked in on where she was sliding off her jeans. “That’s…that’s…er…” He seemed to lose the power of speech altogether for a few seconds, until the jeans joined her shirt on the floor. His voice came back hoarse. “That’s awesome.”
She gave him a smile as she unhooked her bra and held it out to the side, dropping it to join her little pool of clothing. His jaw was twitching now, as he stared at her topless form and shifted uncomfortably in his seat—as if his boxers were suddenly too tight.Aha! Gotcha, Mr. Adebayo.
She dipped down to slide off her underwear, and when she straightened, the guy looked as if he was about to swallow his tongue. He took a shuddering breath.
Liv arranged herself on the sofa, bringing her legs up to stretch out along it. “Okay,” she said with a casual sigh. “I’m ready.”
He hesitated a couple more seconds, gripping the pencil so hard she thought it might snap in two. Then he took another deep breath and shifted in his seat, dragging his eyes off her and onto the paper, where he began scratching out some lines.
She tried hard not to smile as he drew. “Have you done a nude before, by the way?”
