“What if I do?” he asks.
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter, but at least I will be aware of it.” I hesitate. “That’s all. It changes nothing between us. It doesn’t change who you are.”
He smirks and hands me my tea. “Thank you, that’s good to know. But no, I don’t have depression or a mental health issue.”
I smirk.
“Yet.” He widens his eyes to accentuate his point. “Although, you may have been sent here to drive me completely insane.”
I smile into my tea as I blow on it. If only he knew that he has already driven me around the twist. I sit down at the bench next to him and we drink our tea.
“So, what have you been doing while we were apart?” he asks.
I shrug. “Umm, going out.” I smirk. “A lot of drinking.” His eyes hold mine as I see something cross his face, a question.
“What is it?” I ask.
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
“What question did you want to just ask me?” “Have you…?” He hesitates and blows into his tea.
“Have I what?”
“Been with anyone.”
I screw up my face. “You must be joking.” He looks at me blankly.
I smile broadly. “No.” I frown. Hang on a second. “Why, have you?”
He shakes his head. “No, I haven’t.” Relief fills me and I drink my tea. “Oh, and I have been drawing and writing a bit.”
“Drawing? What kind of drawing?” He frowns.
I shrug like a silly school girl. “I don’t know, just random stuff. The drawings aren’t very good, but I have never wanted to do anything like this before. I’m kind of enjoying it, actually.”
He smiles into his drink.
“What have you been doing?” I ask.
“Working and...” His face lights up. “I have something to show you.” He stands and grabs my hand, leading me through the house and up the stairs until we arrive at his bedroom. We walk in and I stop dead in my tracks.
Holy Fuck.
A huge vision of myself is staring down at me from above his bed. The painting of the beautiful woman has now been replaced by a painting of me. My eyes turn to Alastar as he stares lovingly up at the portrait.
“You painted this?” I ask in shock.
“Aye, I did,” he answers dreamily.
I put my hands over my mouth. I don’t know whether to be flattered or horrified. “Oh my God.” My eyes flick to his face. “You are so talented,” I whisper. This painting is so lifelike it looks like a photo. I walk over to it and run my finger over the painting. I can feel the brushstrokes. Shit, it is actually a painting. I don’t frigging believe this.
My wide eyes meet his. “Why would you want a picture of me over your bed?”
He smiles lovingly and takes me into his arms. “I wouldn’t want any other woman hanging over my bed when it is you that I think about.” He kisses me as my brain malfunctions.
This man, this beautiful man…
“How long did it take you to paint?” I ask as I stare up at the painting over his shoulder.
“About six weeks.” I smirk and my eyes don’t leave the painting, I’m in shock.
“I wanted to paint the one where your breasts were exposed but I didn’t think you would like it.” He smirks cheekily. My eyes widen. “I would have killed you. Nobody should have to be put through seeing that.”
His lips drop to my neck and dust up and down its length. “I love your body,” he whispers into my skin. “I dream about your body.”
I smile at the ceiling like a love struck fool.
He puts his finger under my chin and guides my mouth to his, his tongue brushing across my lips, tempting me to a deeper connection. “It’s been too long since I have been inside you, my love,” he whispers as his tongue pushes aggressively into my mouth.
Hell, this taking it slow thing is overrated. I feel myself moisten as arousal starts to pump heavily between my legs.
His hands deepen their grip on my behind and he pulls me onto his waiting hard length.
I want him. I want him now.
Screw this.
Unable to hold myself back, I take my shirt off over my head and slide my jeans down until I’m standing before him in my underwear.