Complementary Colors (3 page)

“Alice is my other sister.” I tossed myself on the bed. The first thing he saw when he walked out was me leaning back on my elbows, legs spread for him to admire or claim.

I watched his reflection in the mirrored ceiling for a moment. He stopped at the door still holding the towel.

His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“I’m always up for more.” I rubbed my cock and hiked up a heel on the edge of the mattress.

“Are you hungry?” Roy looked away.

“You mean food?”

“Yeah.”

“There’s probably something in the kitchen.”

“You don’t know?”

I sat up. “Alice does the shopping.” I opened the bedside drawer. The pill bottles inside rattled.

I picked out the funny shaped pink ones. “You want some?” I held out the bottle.

“What is that?”

“Hell if I know.” The pills tried to stick in my throat. I drank water from the bottle next to the clock.

“Then why are you taking them?”

“Because they make my mind bleed.” Filtering out the thought-numbing guilt that accompanied the worst of the hallucinations let the colors flow. I didn’t expect him to understand. Especially since I didn’t.

I nodded at the pictures on the wall. “Bleed.”

He turned, and I took the chance to admire the tight globes of his ass. There was a dimple above each cheek.

“Did you paint these?”

My grin was wasted on the back of his head. “Yep.”

“They kind of remind me of the ones at the gallery.”

“What makes them different?”

“They’re better.”

The room shrank around me. “Why are they better?”

“I was never much of an art student.” He turned back around. “But I like the lines. The color. The white voids left on the canvas.”

“And you didn’t take art classes?”

“Not after the ninth grade.”

“But you know they’re better.” Not just better. They were some of my best.

“Sure. The pictures are clearer.”

I rolled to the end of the bed. “What pictures?”

Roy shook his head. “I’m probably imagining it. You know, like one of those ink blots.”

I stood. “Tell me what you see?”

He glanced back at the canvas. “I see a woman cradling a child.”

If he could see the beauty of these works, it meant he’d seen the sins carved in oil at the gallery. How could he stand to be in the same room with me, let alone touch me?

“Are you okay?”

My heart skipped against my ribs. Maybe he wasn’t even real? “I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking.” He touched my cheek. The warmth of his caress assured me he was made of flesh. “You shouldn’t have taken those pills.”

“No, no, that’s not…” I gripped his forearms. My hands looked paper white against the golden brown of his skin. “Maybe food is a good idea. I haven’t eaten today.”

“All day?”

“I’m not going to starve.”

Roy picked up my hand and petted the outline of my wrist bone under my skin.

I pulled away. “C’mon, I’ll show you around.”

He wrapped the towel around his waist and followed me back to the studio. Moonlight traced canvases and easels in silver lines. Pigment mixed with the headier scent of sex saturated the air. Everything that had been on the table where Roy fucked me, lay on the floor.

We reached the bottom of the stairs. “Wow.”

“You’ve already seen this room.”

“I wasn’t really…” He took a few steps. “You’re pretty serious about your art.”

“You have no idea.”

Roy scanned the room, touched a few things on the table, got something on his thumb and wiped it off on the towel. “If you’re this serious, why don’t you do one of those…” He snapped his fingers.

“Showings?”

“Yeah, that’s the word.”

“Who says I haven’t?”

He stopped in front of a couple of pieces drying on their easels. “Can you turn on a light?”

I flipped the switch.

The darkness winked out, revealing half assembled frames, tubes of paint, and some of my finest brushes cluttering worktables. Rows of canvas filled the room with offensive color.

Roy clenched his eyes shut. “Those paintings at the gallery were yours, weren’t they?”

I leaned back on one of the tables. Like the smile, how I stared, and used my bangs, it was well practiced.

“Those things I said about…”

“Being a jerk?”

“Yeah, that. I’m sorry.”

“But you didn’t say them, the curator did.”

“I know, but—” Roy raked his gaze over me. I don’t think he realized he licked his lips.

“You sure you only want a sandwich? You might be hungrier than you think.”

The bulge in the front of his towel jumped.

“I think your cock agrees with me.”

Roy gripped the edge of the terry cloth like it might run off. His cheeks reddened, and the sight made me ache. Who could have guessed embarrassment was such a turn-on?

Hell, maybe it was just the drugs.

I held out my hand. Roy took the offering, and I pulled him off balance. His weight pushed me into the edge of the workbench.

“You really weren’t joking.” I nipped his bottom lip.

“About what?”

“About ever being with another man.”

“Why would I tell you that if it wasn’t true?”

“No. I mean
never
being with another man.”

“Is there any other kind of never?”

“Most guys at least experiment. Mutual masturbation, sucking each other off.” I shrugged. “But you haven’t.”

“No.” He brushed his fingertips up my arm, shoulder, neck, to my face. I sucked his thumb into my mouth.

The hard line of flesh hidden behind the towel pushed against my stomach.

“It’s getting late,” Roy said. “You should eat.”

I released his thumb. “You’d rather have a meal than me on your cock?” I pinched one of his nipples. “I could use my mouth, or if you want, I could ride you.” I traced the shell of his ear. “You know…there are so many places that feel good to be licked.”

I would have paid Roy to let me rim him just to see his expression.

“Right now, you need to eat.” The kindness in his eyes left me wishing for something to cover myself with. I slipped from his grasp.

Fancy pots hung from the ceiling in the green marble and chrome kitchen. A fridge as large as a walk-in closet occupied the niche in the counter to my left. I opened the door. Tupperware containers filled the middle shelf.

“Find anything?” Roy wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on my shoulder.

At that point, I couldn’t even be sure what it was I’d been looking for.

“You okay?” His words vibrated through my bones.

“Yeah, why?”

“You tensed.”

I tried to find that flippant persona I was comfortable with, but he was gone. “It’s the cold. I’m not exactly dressed for it.”

“Do you want me to go back upstairs and find a robe?”

I coughed to have an excuse to pull away.

He patted me on the back.

“Sorry, swallowed wrong.” The double meaning struck me, and I laughed so hard I had to grab the door to keep from falling. He reached into the fridge and took out a carton of eggs, block of cheese, and a few other items that were familiar but my addled brain was unable to give me the names at the moment.

He put the stuff on the counter and led me to the table. “Here, sit.”

I was too high and too busy watching the colors surrounding him to argue. It was either that or his rugged features, wide shoulders, or…I ran my fingers along his collarbone. “I’m not really hungry.”

“You need to eat.”

He went back to the kitchen.

Like the living room, the dining room had a glass wall facing the heart of downtown. The lights on, the neighboring buildings were concealed behind the reflection of a dark haired man with lost eyes. The bones in his shoulders cut sharp lines to his thin arms. Men desired him, pined for him. With one look or pose, he could have them at his feet.

How could anyone want a creature so hideous? The kind of ugly that sank into the soul and birthed terrible things. The coward. The liar.

After a few minutes, Roy appeared with plates full of food. I stuck on my smile and melted into my chair. His cheeks reddened, and the bulge behind his towel thickened.

I loved men with quick recovery. Nothing worse than a limp noodle when you’re wanting seconds, thirds, or whatever.

He glanced at the window. “Maybe we should put something on.”

“We’re twenty floors up. And if anyone wants to look, let them. I have nothing to hide, and you most certainly don’t.”

I picked up the fork on the edge of the plate. “Omelets?”

“They’re easy, plus I’m pretty good at them.”

“Wow, a man who’s hung like a horse and can fix breakfast. I’m impressed.”

Roy fumbled with his silverware.

“Fuck, you’re actually embarrassed.”

His smile waned.

“How the hell can you be embarrassed by having a huge dick? Do you know how many men would kill to have a piece of meat like that between their legs? All of them.” I poked at the air between us with my fork. “I’ve been with a lot of men, few could compare.”

A bite of omelet dangled from his fork. “Why so many?”

I tortured my food. “Because I like the feel of a cock in my ass or one in my mouth.” I gave him a sly smile. “Even at the same time.”

I’d never seen someone concentrate so hard on what they were eating. He cleared half his omelet in just a few bites.

I pushed the table back and straddled his lap before he could protest.

“You should be eating.” His gaze said something different.

“Food is boring.” I licked his lips. Salt, pepper, olive oil, and crisp eggs. My stomach growled.

He pulled the table back, speared a bite of food and held it up. “Here.”

I stared.

“Eat, Paris.”

Was this a trick?

“Please.”

I accepted the gift. The mix of spices and cheese replaced the memory of his cum. “What did you put in this?” I sucked the oil from my bottom lip.

Roy fed me another bite. “Onions, peppers, mushrooms, cheese.”

I started to say something. He took advantage of my parted lips and shoved in another bite.

I talked with my mouth full. “There was all that in the fridge?”

“Yep.” He cut another piece.

“It’s not food I’m hungry for.” I ran my hand through his hair.

“Please eat.”

I kissed his chin, his cheek, then brushed our lips together. I fed him my sigh and devoured his gasp. I undid his towel before he had a chance to stop me. His cock was a rigid bar of fire in my hand. “I could suck you off.”

His eyes widened.

“I think you like that idea.” I ran my thumb over the thick head. “Or maybe you’d rather fuck me on the table.”

He swallowed so hard his throat clicked.

“Yeah, I think you like that idea too.” I twisted my grip. Precum smeared on my wrist. “I think your cock really likes that idea.”

Roy ran his knuckles lightly down my cheek.

What I wanted was for him to hold me down and fuck me until I couldn’t walk.

He cupped my face. “You are so beautiful.”

“Roy,” I stroked him, and he fluttered his eyes. “I’m horny as hell, and I need you to do something about it.” I lined up our cocks. “Here. Your hands are bigger.” I showed him how to hold us together. “That’s it.” I rolled my hips, sliding my dick against his. “Not quite as fun as having you in my ass, but I figured you could use the variety.”

Roy gripped the back of my head and plundered my mouth with his tongue. Gone the unsure man who hesitated. He moved his fist, adding to the friction. I wondered, if I asked him, if he would bend me over the chair. I wanted him inside me again. I wanted the heat of his body against my back. I pinched his nipples. His hold faltered only to return tighter and more determined.

“What the hell are you doing?” Julia’s angry voice sent Roy toppling backward off the chair.

My ass hit the floor.

He grabbed a towel and covered himself.

I rolled a look up at Julia. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a little busy right now.”

“I’ve been looking all over for you. I was beginning to think you were dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“Oh, if you could only be so lucky.” I stood.

She gave me a disgusted look and averted her gaze. “You walked out on some very important people.”

“They were no more important than anyone else who buys my work. And did they buy one?”

“That’s not the point.” She tossed her chin up. “People like to see you and talk to you.”

“They like to fuck me too, so what’s your point?” I fondled my cock.

Julia glared at me, then Roy. “You’re disgusting, Paris. Absolutely disgusting.”

“My apartment. I can do what I want.”

She grabbed the plates off the table and stormed into the kitchen. The clatter of porcelain hitting the sink was so loud something had to have broken.

Julia returned. “So this is why you left the showing? To get your rocks off?”

“Rocks had nothing to do with it. I wanted a good fuck, and I found it.”

“So…” She raked her gaze over Roy. “Is he one of the wait staff, or did you grab the first piece of ass on your way here?”

“Don’t be so jealous. He swings both ways. I’m sure if you ask nicely he’ll give you a ride.” I winked at Roy.

If he turned any redder, he was going to pass out from the lack of blood.

“Not only does he have a quick recovery,” I held my hands up. “He’s got a really big—”

“Shut up, Paris.” She jabbed at me with one of her ruby painted nails. “Just shut up. You’re nothing but a sick bastard.”

“Hold on.” Roy held up a hand. “Don’t talk to him that way.”

Julia sneered. “Why don’t you crawl back to whatever alley Paris dragged you out of?”

Roy clenched his jaw hard enough to make the muscles in his face jump. I was about to apologize to him when his shadowed gaze met mine. He wasn’t upset for himself, he was upset for me.

But Roy was the one who didn’t deserve Julia’s abuse. I don’t think he could have aimed a harsh thought in her direction.

No such inhibitions existed for me. I propped my hand on the table behind me and leaned back, displaying all my assets.

“Put some clothes on, Paris, before you embarrass yourself more than you already have.”