Bronwyn Green

…from my soon to be released story, Body of Art from Resplendence Publishing.

“Actually, I don’t think you were avoiding the conversation as much as you were avoiding what I was about to do.”

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and she kicked the wheel faster. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Seth.”

“I like the way you say my name,” he murmured as he stepped closer to her.

Her eyes widened in alarm, but she didn’t say anything.

Sliding his hands into her hair, he angled her face upward. “And I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

She shook her head, frantic little movements between his hands. Leaning closer, his lips skimmed her cheek as they coasted toward her ear. A shiver worked through her body and her foot slipped from the pedal.

“You knew I was about to kiss you earlier…and you wanted me to.”

A squeak that might have been the word ‘no’ escaped her lips. Her breathing quickened and she held herself so tightly she trembled. “I think you’re mistaken,” she choked out.

“If I’m mistaken about that, am I also mistaken about the way your nipples tightened when you were posing for me?”

“It was cold in there.”

“I didn’t know being chilly was a turn on,” he whispered against her ear.

“What are you on about now?” she demanded, her voice breathy, nervous.

“I’m sure no one else noticed, but I could smell your arousal. That leads me to believe you either have an exhibitionist streak, or…you want me as badly as I want you.”

She gasped, the sound sharp against his ear. The clay she’d been spinning slid off the wheel to thump loudly against the side of the tub that housed the wheel.

Still holding her head between his palms, he pulled back and glanced down at her. “Judging from the way your nipples are knotting against your shirt right now, I think it’s the latter.”

“No,” she mouthed, shaking her head, but no sound came out.

Holding her gaze, he lowered his head until his lips hovered just above hers.

“Seth, I don’t think—”

“Good. Don’t think.” He captured the velvet sweetness of her mouth as she stiffened in his embrace. Gently, he nipped and suckled until she opened beneath the pressure of his lips and he deepened the kiss, tasting her fully. Mixed with the tanginess of the pizza and the sweetness of the Coke, he tasted something uniquely Callie—delicious and addicting.

As if she was moving in slow motion, she began to respond, her lips sliding against his, parting further to accommodate the gentle probing of his tongue. The last thing he wanted with her was gentleness, but he also didn’t want to scare her away. As it was, she still held herself rigidly in his embrace. She was strung so taut, it seemed like she might shatter at any moment.

Keeping one hand anchored in the silk of her hair, and sliding the other down her back to rest at her waist, he urged her closer. It wasn’t close enough. He pulled her flush against his body, flush against his aching cock. Her body jerked against his in response and she released a shuddering sigh into his mouth, suddenly melting against him. Her hands grasped his forearms, splotching his skin with cold, wet clay as she dug her fingers into his flesh.

“Doctor Sulli—Um…yeah…I’ll just come back later.”

The words registered in the back of Seth’s brain, as Callie flew from his arms, stumbling backward into the base of the standing wheel.

He glanced toward the door, but whoever had been there was long gone. So was Callie. She’d already darted across the room and busied herself scrubbing the clay from her hands. Returning to his side with a wet washcloth, she studiously avoided his gaze she handed it to him.

“Sorry about getting you dirty,” she muttered before attempting to retreat to the far side of the room again.”

He grabbed her arm, forcing her to stay. “S’okay. I don’t mind.”

She did meet his eyes then.

He shrugged. “I’m not proud, Callie. I’ll take your touch any way I can get it.” He’d meant to comfort her, but as he spoke, he realized the words were true. He had it bad for this woman, and every moment spent in her company made it worse. She pushed her glasses up on her nose, watching silently as he wiped the clay residue from his skin.

“Students will be here any minute. Why don’t I show you where to change?” Her withdrawal was tangible. She might as well have slammed a door in his face…and dragged heavy furniture in front of it to barricade his way.

“Don’t you think we should maybe talk?” he asked.

“Nope.” Skirting five large kilns and two smaller ones, she unlocked a heavy wood door and propped it open with a cinder block doorstop. “We don’t have a proper dressing room in here, but the storage room locks and there are several robes hanging on a hook on the back of the door.”

She didn’t want to talk? That was fine, but before the night was over she was damn well going to feel. Placing the wet rag in her hand as he crossed the room to enter the storage room, he looked her in the eye. “Start thinking about how you want me.”