Natalia and I started painting together. I bought her an easel and her own painting and drawing supplies so she can work whenever she wants. Morgan signed her up for some art workshops for kids her age at The Art Shoppe. When she isn’t burying herself with drawing, she has her face stuck in a book. She tells me about every piece she creates and even let Ms. Jones put a couple of her pieces up in the gallery after several plea attempts.
My favorite ones are the drawings of her mother. She can’t remember much about her, but she draws what she does remember. She tells me stories about her and her dad, the fun things he’d take her to, and all the pictures he’d take of them together.
I can see a lot of Ryan in Morgan and think about how much it must hurt Natalia to see the resemblance. But for her age, she’s handling it quite well. In fact, she’s starting to act like a typical eleven-year-old, laughing more easily and slowly opening up about her feelings. We’ve been able to bond over teasing Morgan about his lack of cooking skills. I’ve been trying to teach him and show him some of my techniques. He’s getting better—in that the smoke detector goes through fewer batteries than before.
Morgan and I take turns sleeping over at each other’s places. If Natalia spends the night at a friend’s or Morgan’s parent’s house, he stays with me. Otherwise, I stay over there and make sure they stay fed.
Music plays softly as I work in my studio. Different shades of purple and red paint cover my jeans and hands. The blend of warm and cool colors is the perfect mix for the abstract I’m currently working on.
The paintbrush strokes effortlessly along his jawline and cheekbones. His green eyes are bright in the mix, showing his softer and gentler side. Light purple and deep red cover the rest of him, representing the very meaning of this whole piece.
I hear him walk up behind me. My body shivers as he gently wraps his arms around my waist and nuzzles his nose in the nape of my neck.
“Mm…you smell good.”
“That’s the smell of paint and working for hours, or what normal people call sweat,” I tease.
“Strawberry,” he murmurs. “You smell like strawberries…and cream.” He nips on my earlobe, pulling it in between his teeth and sucking lightly.
“Don’t get any ideas,” I threaten. “The last time you mentioned strawberries and whip cream, it took three hours to wash it out of my hair.”
“That’s only because you kept distracting me in the shower.” He kisses down my neck, sending goose bumps over my skin. “But at least you were thoroughly cleaned.” I feel the corners of his lips tilting up in an amused grin.
“Can you at least wait until I’m finished? It’s almost complete.”
He growls in my ear. “You have five minutes.” He pulls back and slaps my ass.
Thirty-seven minutes later, I step back and examine the painting. “It’s finished,” I call out. I smile as I study it. I can’t wait to frame this one.
“What’s this one called?” He rests his hands on my hips and pulls me against him, his chest to my back.
“The Professor,” I answer with a smile.
“He’s very…brightly colored.”
I lightly elbow him in the stomach. “It’s you.”
He presses his lips against my neck. “What’s it mean?” he softly asks.
“The colors represent healing and love.” I turn around and face him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “You’re the purples and reds of my life.”
He leans down and presses his mouth to mine. “You’re the purples and reds of my life,” he repeats my words. “Many, many, many reds.” He brushes his tongue along my lower lip and pulls it in between his teeth and sucks it lightly before releasing it. “I love you, Aspen Evans.” He kisses my lips. “I love how passionate you are. I love how much you love Natalia and me. But I think the thing I love most about you is how adorable you look covered in paint.”
“If you think that’s adorable…” I take the brush covered in purple and wipe it across his forehead, leaving a nice bright streak over his skin. “You should see how adorable I am when I kick your ass at paint wars.”
He pulls my body against him, making me gasp and laugh at the same time. He grabs the brush from my hand and wipes it all over my cheeks and nose. “It’s super adorable how you always think you can beat me. Too bad that’s not going to happen!”
I manage to push out of his grip just long enough to grab another tube of paint. “You’re so dead!” I scream, smearing it on my hands and covering it over his arms and neck.
We continue chasing each other around the room, laughing, and eventually surrendering to each other. I release the brushes and paint from my hands and wrap them around him, holding him close to my chest.
“I love you, Morgan Hampton. Thank you for bringing happiness back into my life.” I arch my neck and smile up at him, his warm eyes making me fall harder and harder for him every single day.
“Thank you for letting me in so I could.” He kisses the top of my nose and squeezes me tighter against him. “Now…about that shower?”
I burst into laughter and lead the way.
MORGAN
I run my hands along her neck and arms, rinsing the soap and paint off her body. She sucks in her bottom lip as she watches me, our eyes locked on one another’s.
I lower my arms and her hands cover my chest, rinsing the soap off. I study her features, still in shock at how flawless she looks. She’s naturally gorgeous, but her confidence and strength just radiate off of her. She’s beautiful on the inside and out.
I wrap a hand around her body and cup her neck, pulling her lips to mine. The water streams over us as I kiss her in wanton desire, heated with passion and need. Her arms move up my chest and wrap around my neck as our mouths devour each other. Slowly, she pulls away, tugging my bottom lip in between her teeth, playful desire dancing in her bright blue eyes.
Once she releases my lower lip, her tongue glides across it, soothing the sting. Her lips travel down my throat, marking the skin for her own. She licks a trail up to my ear and gently pulls the earlobe in between her teeth, eliciting a groan from deep in my chest.
Tangling my fingers into her wet hair, I pull her lips back to mine, locking her body to mine and kissing her deeply. Her wet chest rubs against mine, those hard little nipples begging for my attention. Running my hand from her waist up to her breast, I squeeze it roughly, just the way she likes, before I pinch her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, rolling and tugging it.
“Mm…yes,” she moans into my mouth as she rubs her lower body against me, searching for friction. “Pleasepleaseplease…” Her voice cuts off when I pinch her other nipple. I fucking love that my girl likes it rough as I please her body.
“I know what you need, sweetheart.”
Aspen glides her hand down between our bodies, wrapping her fingers around my length, squeezing tightly before moving her hand in a quick, hard motion. I tweak her nipple hard in warning. I know she’s trying to get me to lose control, but that’s not in the cards tonight. I pull away from her and turn the water off before stepping out of the shower. Without warning, I lift her over my shoulder and slap her ass with a firm hand, the sound ringing through the room, and echoing off the walls.
She yelps in surprise, a satisfied grin on my face as I tighten my hold around her thigh. “Behave yourself,” I warn with a teasing tone as I walk into her bedroom.
I lay her on the mattress and don’t waste any time before climbing on top of her. I part her silky legs, spread them wide, and attack her pussy with my starving lips. I suck her clit into my mouth, lashing it with my tongue. Her thighs clench, threatening to close around me. I push her legs further apart, holding her just how I want to—keeping her at my mercy.
“Mm…fuck. Morgan, yes.” She’s breathless, making incoherent noises while fisting the sheets.