The Artist (The Game Changers #2) (8 page)

“Ooh yay! I love when you take me to bed!” She giggled as he threw her over his shoulder and smacked her rear. I couldn’t help but laugh as I watched them leave.

It wasn’t much later when Maverick was finally finished closing up. I assumed we were going back to my place, considering how close I lived to his bar, but it turned out he lived much closer. After Dee and Moby left through the back door, Maverick walked around and checked the locks before silently grabbing my hand and leading me down the hall to where his office was. We walked past his office, the bathrooms, and the storeroom before he opened a metal door with a loud squeak. He held it open, allowing me to step first in a hallway with another door leading to the street and an old wooden staircase.

“Welcome to my home, Duchess,” he said as he guided me up the stairs and into his loft. His home was like his bar—dark stained woodwork and exposed brick. The tall ceilings gave the loft space an airy quality. Maverick walked away, flipping on a few more lights, giving me a minute to take in my surroundings. His loft was huge. Just off the industrial-size kitchen, there sat the biggest sectional I had ever seen in the middle of a large sitting area. Beyond the kitchen was his art studio. Large windows lined the space. Paintings sat on the floor and on easels, while different sized paintbrushes filled cans on every available surface. Where the rest of the wooden floors shined, the floor in that area was spattered with all the colors of the rainbow, letting me know the studio was well loved.

I heard a door open and close, followed by the sound clicking nails on the wood floor. A potentially overweight bulldog came strutting over to me to smell my feet, and I immediately squatted down to pet him. “You’re a cute pup, aren’t you?”

The dog grunted in response.

“Come on, Hank,” Maverick said. “Leave the pretty lady alone, you ol’ flirt.”

“Hank?” I asked with a grin as the dog turned his head to let me scratch the places he wanted.

“Yup. I got him the day before the other Hank decided to let me buy the bar from him for a ridiculously low price. I figured Hank the dog was my good luck charm.”

“Sounds like it.” I stood when Hank decided he was tired and walked away to lay down. He plopped on the tile floor in the kitchen and panted like he had just run a mile.

Maverick approached me once I was back on my feet. He grabbed my hips and pulled me against him. “Now, where were we before we were interrupted?”

As his lips found their way to that spot just below my ear and his hands found my lower back and the top of my skirt, I said, “I can’t remember. You’ll have to remind me.”

“Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?” he whispered against my neck as he slowly pressed kisses under my ear down to my shoulder.

“Hmm…you’re not so bad yourself, Maverick.”

His open mouth found mine, creating a stirring that we could no longer ignore. Our bodies pressed against each other from lips to toes, and yet, I didn’t feel close enough to him. When his hands snuck under my skirt and found my rear, he lifted me easily. I shamelessly wrapped my legs around his body just before he pressed my back to the wall behind me. His hands explored, finding their way further under my skirt. When he found the lace top of my garters, he froze.

“I need you in my bed, preferably without clothes. I need to see what you have hiding under this skirt, Duchess. My imagination just ran away with ideas.”

I giggled like a schoolgirl as he carried me quickly through his loft to a bedroom on the other side. He gently let me go, so I was standing on my own again. When he stepped slightly away, I knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted a show, and I had no problem giving him one. I slowly unbuttoned my sheer blouse revealing the black lace beneath it. I let the fabric fall from my shoulders. It floated to the floor just before I began unbuttoning my skirt behind my back. His eyes never left my body while that damn smirk played on his lips. When the skirt fell from my body, Maverick audibly gasped. His restraint was barely holding on, judging by the way he clenched and unclenched his fists.

“You are…” He didn’t finish his thought. His eyes roamed my body. I had always felt too thin and lacking in femininity, thanks to my lack of curves, but tonight I felt beautiful, sexy, wanted.

“I am what?” I teased.

He still didn’t finish his thought. Instead, he let out a small growl before taking a large step toward me. He slowly ran his fingertips around my hips and across my belly. Chills spread across my skin like wildfire, and I suddenly wanted Maverick to rip the La Perla right off my body.

Gaining control of myself, I copied his movements, trailing my fingertips over his jeans and under his shirt across his abs. I gently took his Hank’s t-shirt in my hands and lifted it. Maverick took the hint and bent to let me strip the shirt from his torso. He had a sleeve of tattoos that I had seen while he worked, but this was the first glance I was getting with his shirt off. The colorful tattoos of feathers and leaves continued up his left arm to his shoulder where dark twists darted out from the colors like roots and wrapped around his left pec and shoulder. There was script that I wasn’t able to read on his ribs on his right and another small symbol peeking out from where his jeans hung low on his hips.

The tension between us was palpable, and I felt my breathing shift along with my heartbeat. Nothing had ever felt this exciting or passionate before. We were all hands and lips as he moved us to the bed. Once he gently laid me down, Maverick sat back on his heels, running his hands down my body as he went.

“You’re remarkable, Katherine.” My heart swelled at his admission. He didn’t call me Duchess like he usually did. He didn’t call me baby, sweetheart, or some other impersonal nickname I had heard a million times before when men would hit on me. The best part was that he didn’t call me Kitty. He called me Katherine as he looked like I was everything he ever wanted. Even if I wasn’t everything to him, I felt important and cherished, like he really wanted me in that moment and not some made up version of myself.

Maverick unzipped my ankle boots and gently dropped them to the floor. My stockings were released from my garter belt, and he slowly peeled each one down my legs. As he kissed his way back up my legs and slowly removed the rest of the lingerie I had so carefully chosen for him, he murmured, “I feel like it’s Christmas and my birthday all wrapped up into one. I’ve never gotten to unwrap such a perfect gift…definitely the best present ever.”

“Adam,” I sighed unexpectedly.

He grinned and continued to kiss his way up my torso, paying special attention to any spot that made me squirm or made me moan, but ignoring the places where I needed attention. He was learning me. Instead of complaining or trying to rush him, I opened up like a textbook ready to teach him.

Suddenly, I felt nervous. He was being too charming, too romantic. This wasn’t just a quick fuck for him. It was after three in the morning, and the man had spent more time getting me naked than any man had ever spent inside of me. I knew my feelings were getting deeper, and I was happy to relish in them. What I had never considered, though, was that Maverick might also feel something. It seemed that whatever this was, it wasn’t just for fun.

I almost laughed at my own absurdity. Maverick didn’t feel anything more than lust when it came to me. Just because he was attentive didn’t mean he had feelings for me. He wanted to make this good for both of us, which was more than I could ask for tonight. The men I had been with probably hadn’t cared if I enjoyed the sex as long as they got off. No man had ever felt anything more than temporary lust, so why would Maverick be any different? That simple thought allowed me to relax, and what I was feeling for the next few hours was nothing short of ecstasy. Who cared if what we were doing felt a lot like making love? It was sex—sweet, slow, tortuous, beautiful, amazing sex, but it was just sex, nonetheless. It had to be.

Chapter Twelve

The next morning, or afternoon rather, I woke to an empty bed. We had kept each other up all night. I finally fell asleep listening to the morning traffic begin to stir outside. My body was satiated and exhausted but also somehow energized. I found the noise of the city comforting as I floated to sleep in Maverick’s arms.

I was hoping to wake up the same way, but I found what I actually woke up to was better. After I threw on one of Adam’s t-shirts I found hanging in his closet and stopped by his enormous and pristine bathroom, I made my way to the kitchen where I found Maverick dressed and cooking while Hank took a nap by his feet. The black and white bulldog opened his large round eyes when he heard me approaching, but his head never left the ground.

Maverick had a much friendlier greeting for me. He set the spatula down and came to wrap his arms around me. “Good morning, Duchess. You were supposed to stay in bed naked for me. I was bringing you breakfast.”

“That sounds nice and smells delicious. Bacon?”

He gave me a small smile and nodded. “Your new favorite.”

“I do like it,” I admitted.

His smile quickly turned saucy. “Wait ‘til you try my sausage.”

I laughed, and in an uncharacteristic move on my part, I asked, “Isn’t that what I did last night?”

His lips trailed down my neck, and I leaned to give him more access. “Hmm…yes, I think we should do that again. Screw food.”

I laughed again and backed away. “Not a chance, hot shot. This lady is famished, and you made bacon.”

He frowned and let me go to pick the spatula back up. “All right then. My woman wants food, then she gets food.” He turned back to me and pointed with the spatula. His lip lifted into the damn sexy smirk. “Afterward, I get her.”

Anticipation flooded my body, making me regret my decision to eat first. “Sounds like a plan to me.” I grinned.

“Good. You can’t walk around here in nothing but my shirt and expect me to be able to do anything but you.”

“My, my, my, someone’s insatiable this morning.”

He plated our breakfast and set them on the island in front of the stools where I had sat down. With a quick kiss, he said, “After last night, I don’t think I’ll ever want anything more than I want you. I’m going to be insatiable, as you call it, every time you are near now.” He dug a hand into my messy hair and pressed his lips to mine, igniting a kiss that had my lips chasing his when we finally separated. Maverick growled when he pulled away after seeing the effect he had on me. “Eat. You’re going to need your energy, Duchess.”

And that was how we spent the rest of the weekend. We stopped by my condo on Sunday so I could shower at home and get some clothes. As soon as we stepped in the elevator of my building, the charge was pulling us together again. We could barely make it inside my condo before we were tugging on each other’s clothes again. It was a Fifty Shades moment that I hadn’t known existed. There was no spanking or ropes or toys involved in what we were doing, and that was fine by me. We didn’t need any added props. In fact, I wasn’t sure I could take anything more and survive it.

By Monday, I was exhausted and sore and happier than I had ever been in my life. Maverick and I had spent a lot of time talking last week before the lust took us over. However, it seemed the talking we did this weekend was just as intimate. I told him what it was like growing up with my parents and admitted that they still controlled almost everything I did until I came into his bar that first night. I didn’t give him all the details, but it was enough so that he understood my brand of spoiled came with a price.

His experience growing up was the polar opposite. Maverick told me what it was like growing up in a practically perfect home until his dad passed away when he was in high school. I shed a few tears for him, and he wiped them away before kissing me slowly and sweetly.

After talking about the past, we focused on the future. I didn’t have much to add to that conversation, considering I didn’t know where I would live in a month, let alone be doing in a year, but I told him how I wanted to write and be able to do my own thing without wondering who I’d be disappointing. He seemed understanding and encouraging. “You should be able to do whatever you want to do. You want to write, then write. Don’t let anyone stop you,” he had said. I surmised that he didn’t understand my situation with my parents as well as I had thought, but his support was nice to have. I might have fallen a little harder for him in that moment.

I knew for sure I was a goner when I asked him about his tattoos, though. We had been silently recovering for a while in his bed. He had one arm behind his head, giving me an unobstructed view of the muscles that he hid beneath his sleeves. My head was resting on his chest while his fingertips of his other hand trailed up and down my back. I watched as the tattoos moved with the motion of his upper arm. “What do they all mean?” I asked.

He leaned up slightly and raised his eyebrows in question. “What does what mean?”

“Your tattoos.” I traced a finger through the images on his arm.

“You see the jack?” I nodded. “That’s my brother. Next to it the circles with the three ellipses around them? That’s an atom. Me.”

“I see.” I nodded and traced the next figure gently with my finger. “The angel?”

“My mom. The hands that surround us and the eyes above us are my dad’s. He holds us together and watches over us. My brother has a similar tattoo.”

“And the rest?”

He twisted his arm around showing me intricate feathers and a tree that was rooted on his shoulder and seemed to grow toward his elbow. “The feathers are a Native American symbol of honor and respect. I have one for every painting I’ve sold. Trees in dreams indicate who you are as a living being. The roots indicate the past and the trunk grows toward your future. My future lies in my hands, so it grows from my heart toward my hands.”

The way it all connected and flowed was beautiful. The colors were vibrant and eye-catching, and I imagined just as meaningful. “It’s all beautiful,” I told him honestly.

“Thank you. I went to art school with Jed, the guy who does all of my work.”

“You didn’t draw it yourself? The angel in particular looks like your work?”

“Yeah. I drew some of what I wanted then he creates the stencil.”

“Hmm,” I said as I continued to trace the intricate patterns on his arm.

After a few moments, he whispered, “You’re killing me, Duchess.”

I looked up to see his dark eyes watching me carefully. That look spoke volumes to me, and I couldn’t help but lift myself up so I could kiss him. That galvanized us again, and we spent the next several hours wrapped up in each other. No more words were spoken, other than the occasional sighing of one another’s names.

Our amazing weekend was forced to end when Maverick had a meeting with someone interested in hiring him to paint a ceiling mural at a hotel. He told me he had painted one in an LA property and another in DC, so when the designer he had worked with before called him, he couldn’t say no to the meeting with the hotel owner early Monday morning.

As much as I wanted our weekend to go on forever, I needed a reprieve. I had two articles to finish and required time to get my head on straight. Of course, all I did was think about him, so it took me twice as long to get my interview with the chef written up. Just as I finished it, my phone started ringing. I jumped up, hoping it was the man consuming my thoughts, but it was just Penelope.

“Oh, good. You aren’t dead,” she said sarcastically. She wasn’t really worried. She was probably more annoyed than anything. I had been ignoring everyone’s calls and texts over the last week. I didn’t want my old life ruining the time I had with Maverick, and Penelope and Victoria were just as much a part of my old life as my parents were.

“Very funny, Pen. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on? How can you ask me that? You tell me what’s been going on with you.”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right. Spill it, Kitty!”

“I met someone,” I said, trying and possibly failing to keep the teenage girl excitement out of my voice.

“Oh! I should have known. Who is he? What does he do? Did your parents introduce you?”

“His name is Adam. He’s a painter and owns his own business, and no, my parents know nothing about him.”

“A painter? Kitty…” I could hear the disapproval laced in her voice. At least I didn’t tell her what kind of business he owned. It wouldn’t matter if he ran the most successful bar in the world; the fact he owned a bar would be points against him in Pen’s mind.

“He’s amazing,” I gushed.

“Amazing in bed or in life? You know your parents would never go for this.” Ugh. Penelope was always the voice of reason.

“Who cares about my parents? They aren’t dating him.” Who was this girl I was becoming? I liked her.

“Oh, shit. You slept with him. He must be damn good if you’re willing to ignore your parents for him.”

“First of all, ‘damn good’ doesn’t even begin to describe him. Second, my parents need to worry about themselves. I’m done being their little pawn.” At least for the rest of the month, I thought sadly.

“Okay, Kitty…calm down. So, tell me about ‘damn good doesn’t begin to describe him.’ And when can I meet him?”

“Adam’s everything. He’s the fantasy, Pen.”

“Wow. You sound like you have it bad. No wonder I haven’t heard from you in over a week.”

I tapped my pen against the table while I stared at the swirls on my computer’s screensaver. “Yes, I’ve been a little busy,” I confirmed, thinking of how I’ve been busy with Maverick. I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on my face any more than I could stop the warmth spreading inside my gut.

I almost didn’t hear Penelope when she said, “Well, you missed the fundraiser this weekend. I was surprised to see your parents there minus one gorgeous blonde and whichever man they tried to set you up with this time.”

I frowned, thinking about my parents and the long line of men they were probably anxious for me to meet. “Sorry. I was with Adam. I haven’t spoken to my parents. Somehow that fundraiser just slipped my mind.”

“I’m sure you were distracted. Well, let me tell you. Victoria came with that guy she used to date with the glasses.” I could imagine her waving her hand in the air while she spoke.

“Sam?”

“Yeah. That guy.”

“Really? I thought she said she couldn’t stand him even though he was the nicest guy she has ever dated.” I was surprised. Victoria was looking for a man with money, not a nice guy.

“She’s getting desperate. Her parents are threatening to cut her off.”

“Hmm.” I knew the feeling. “Who did you take?”

“Lewis. I know, I know. Don’t say it!”

“Pen!” I groaned and threw my pen down. “I don’t care how big his bank account is. The guy’s a jerk and has absolutely no redeeming qualities.”

“I know, but I cannot stay away. Maybe I’m a masochist.”

“You’d have to be,” I agreed.

“Moving on. The real reason I’m calling is to see if you’re still attending the Literacy Lunch tomorrow. My mother would really like for you to be there, and this is one of those causes you actually care something about.”

I pulled up my calendar and looked at all the events I had missed or had forgotten. Wednesday dinner, Thursday cocktails, Saturday party at a billion dollar mansion. None of it sounded appealing. “I don’t know.” I had another article to write, and Maverick was usually available during the day. I would rather spend time with him than with some stuffy old ladies who spend thousands of dollars on a lunch just to show off their Chanel and tell us younger women everything we’re doing wrong.

“Come on, Kitty. You can’t stop showing up to everything because you have a new man. What would your mother think?”

That was all I needed to hear to make my decision. “That’s just the thing. I don’t care anymore.”

“Ugh! What happened to you?”

“Nothing,” I insisted. I wasn’t about to tell one of my gold-digging friends that I might be homeless in less than three weeks. “Look, I have to go. I’ll probably see you Wednesday at the dinner.”

“Fine. Think about tomorrow.”

“I will. Bye.” I hung up quickly before she could guilt trip me anymore.

My phone rang almost immediately after I set it down. This time my heart pounded excitedly when I saw Maverick’s name and our mural selfie flash onto my screen.

“Hey, handsome.”

“It’s been hours, and I’m missing you. Please tell me you’re done writing.” I could hear the clanking of glasses and knew right away he was at the bar.

“Sorry. I only finished one article.”

“How about you work fast, and I bring you dinner in an hour?”

“What about the bar?”

“Closed Mondays. Inventory is done, and Corbin’s taking care of the rest. He’s the manager, after all. It’s time he starts acting like it.” I could tell Maverick was joking even though his words sounded harsh.