Vegas Knights (15 page)

Both women kneeled down to collect the pencils, Kelly trying hard to conceal how flustered she was. "What?"

Syndee snorted and rolled her eyes. “Girl, that dude is so hot for you this building's about to burn down."

"I...I don't know...just, shut up!"

Laughing, Syndee straightened and got her station set up. Kelly remained on the floor, taking much longer than was reasonable to pick up a few drawing implements.

Sorting her thoughts as she sorted her pencils, Kelly finally managed, "He was the bartender the other night, remember? I got a little tipsy and flirted with him. It was nothing at all."

"Oh yeah?" Syndee's cynicism irked Kelly.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. And now he's here. How did this happen?"

"Dunno. Didn't even know we were having a model till I came in this morning." She grabbed a pencil and started violently shading a portion of her paper. "I'm always the last to know."

Greta called everyone's attention to the front of the room. "I know for some of you, this will be your first live model. Don't be nervous, just remember your training and do your best to draw what you see. And remember, the best way to study the human form is to work with nude models. Just raise a hand if you have any questions."

Kelly cast a wild look at Greta, then Syndee, whose attention was focused on blackening her paper.
Nude?
Brandon was going to be nude?
 

The door to the little room creaked open and out stepped the second most glorious male body she had ever seen in real life. Brandon was a little shorter than Rick — just about her height — but his chiseled frame belied his fondness for the gym, especially the weight room. Broad shoulders, bulging with mass, tapered down a perfect set of eight-pack abs, which melted into impossibly narrow hips, which came to a very impressive, very thick, and very long point.
 

Kelly's mouth went dry. She'd been taught to never stare at a live model, and the sight of a nude standing in front of her had never so much as given her pause. But this, this was a different story.
 

A whack on her arm brought her out of her daze. She cast a dazed glance over at Syndee, who placed the back of her hand under her own chin and mimicked closing her mouth. Kelly hadn't realized her jaw was slack.
Good grief!
She was not only staring, she was practically drooling.

"I get it but man up!" Syndee was absolutely right. She was a professional. What really clinched it was what Greta might think of her if she spotted her ridiculous behavior.

Trembling fingers fumbled with a pencil and she tried to get her heart to stop running wild. It was a little harmless flirtation, and now he just happened to be standing naked in front of her. Nothing weird about that, nothing at all.

She peeked at Brandon as he settled himself on the stage. Greta had set up an old-fashioned fainting couch for him to recline on. It was frayed around the edges, much like Kelly's nerves, with little bald patches spotting the velvet upholstery. Kelly did her best to focus on these little details first, hoping to have collected herself when the time came to focus on the model.

A warm, calming sense of well-being washed over her as she sketched. She was in the zone now, so she braved a full look at Brandon's exquisite body. She was still impressed by his physique but it no longer flustered her. Shadows caressed his bulky arms, light glanced off his perfect pecs, and his abs were shiny with either sweat or a light coating of oil.
 

As her gaze moved lower, a vision of her rubbing massage oil all over Brandon's body popped into her head. She shook the thought away and moved to his feet. She'd never been particularly interested in feet, but Brandon's were almost pretty. His toes were long, but not ungainly and a light dusting of hair gave them a seriously masculine quality without making them look like hobbit feet. Another vision of her licking the long curve of his instep clouded Kelly's thinking.

What are you doing?! Focus!

Sketching up his long, muscular legs might not be the wisest choice at the moment, considering where her mind was taking her, and the only part left to sketch was his head. She'd carefully avoided looking directly at his face since he'd walked away, but now she had no choice. She slowly took in the long sinewy neck, glistening with oil, the three-day scruff along his strong jaw, the dimple in his chin, his oh-so-kissable lips, a bold nose and those eyes. Those intensely brown eyes that looked like warm chocolate. Those brown eyes you wanted to get lost in. Those brown eyes that...were looking directly at her!

Pencils went flying when Kelly jumped. She once again dove to the ground to collect them, and hopefully herself. Syndee just sneered at her from above. Kelly wasn't sure, but she thought she caught the word "pathetic" mumbled.

Syndee was right. She was pathetic. She had a boyfriend she was utterly in love with and there was no way a girl like her could attract two such knee-tremblingly hot men as Rick and Brandon. The odds were astronomical. Brandon was just pushing her buttons because she’d flirted with him at the bar.

She flicked a glance his way and he was still staring at her but this time with that painfully sexy smirk on his lips. She went back to picking up pencils.

Why was she having this reaction to him? Guilt and desire were battling inside her, each trying to take control. She'd done nothing wrong, so she didn't have anything to be guilty for — other than openly desiring another man.
Oh, that
.

But Rick had been less than attentive for the past few days, and last night's anticlimactic — for her, anyway — escapades had left her feeling rejected and frustrated. Here was a gorgeous man showing her the attention she so sorely wanted from Rick. Instead of being embarrassed or ashamed of it, she should embrace it and express her attraction for him in her art.

Kelly popped back up and eyed Brandon, all of him, with a critical eye. Her hand moved of its own accord, dashing from one side of the paper to another. A pinky rubbed the charcoal into a smeared shadow, a bold flick of the wrist outlined a sharp contrast. Time was lost to her as she worked, putting every last ounce of emotion she'd been fighting into the drawing.

"And that's lunch." Greta's voice snapped Kelly out of her daze, bringing her back into the room with everyone else. Greta handed Brandon a robe as he stood and stretched the stiffness out of his muscled frame. Some of the male students turned their heads, but every female eye was trained on him as he slowly shrugged into the robe.

"Wow, that's fantastic," a voice piped from behind Kelly. She turned to see a young woman peering over her shoulder at her sketch. Kelly smiled and turned back.

"No, really. Hey, you guys, you've got to see this." Kelly looked back, alarmed at the girl's drawing attention to her. This drawing wasn't just of Brandon; it was imbued with pent-up frustration, lust, guilt, love and fear. It wasn't something for others to gawk at; it was her diary.

She started to pull it from the easel but it was too late. A group had formed around her, everyone staring at her soul, commenting on the raw emotion it evoked. The bodies were pushing in on her and she felt trapped, claustrophobic. Panic was starting to flow through her when a hand reached through the throng and pulled her out.
 

"Why don't you get a breath of fresh air, dear." Greta patted her toward the door and Kelly nodded, eyes wild.
 

The moment she rolled the door shut behind her, a deep, husky voice sent a shockwave through her. "Crazy scene in there. What part of me did you draw, exactly?"

Kelly turned to meet Brandon's cocky smirk. She was suddenly irritated by his brashness. "Down, boy. You're not all that, ya know."

"Oh?" Amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes.
 

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, the world doesn't revolve around you and your chiseled pecs and big dick? Could it possibly be that I'm just a fabulously talented artist and everyone is in there admiring
my
work and not just
your
body?"

Kelly's blood was boiling. This hot stud thought he could knock her for a loop. He did catch her off guard earlier, but now she was ready to fight back. She planted her fists on her hips and jutted out her chin in defiance.

Brandon's gaze raked up and down her body, soaking in every curve. His tongue dipped into the corner of his mouth — his wickedly inviting mouth — as he stepped closer to Kelly. She could feel the heat radiating off him, but she refused to budge, to give him the satisfaction.

His face was mere inches from hers. His cologne, fainter now, clouded her senses. He leaned in close, his stubble lightly raking her cheek as his lips nestled close to her ear.
 

"I never doubted it for a second,” he murmured. Hot breath tickled her ear, sending a shudder down her body. She could feel the dampness between her thighs growing, the frustration from the night before returning with the force of a runaway train. The urge to press her ripe body into his was overpowering.
 

Suddenly Brandon was stepping away as the studio's door rolled open. Kelly was left swaying and dazed as Syndee stepped out and lit up a cigarillo. Eying the pair, she leaned against the wall.
 

"Sup?"
 

"Kelly and I were getting to know each other a little better," Brandon said in a smooth, even voice. Kelly had no idea how he did it; she couldn't have sounded so calm at that moment.

"I bet." Syndee kicked a foot back to rest on the wall and slouched into a more comfortable position, making it clear she was there to stay, at least until the end of her smoke.

"Maybe we can pick this up later, Kelly." As the door rolled closed behind him, she could breathe again.

Syndee cast a cool gaze at her through the smoke wafting up in front of her face. "Thought you had some hot-shit boyfriend."

"I did...I do! I just...Brandon was only..." Kelly slumped against the wall next to Syndee in frustration. "I don't know what the hell is going on. He's got me all mixed up."

"Which one?"

Kelly wasn't sure. "Both, actually."

"Well, it's none of my business and I don't judge," Syndee said, dropping her cigarillo to the concrete and grinding it out with the sole of her Dr. Martens boot. "But you don't seem the type to juggle a coupla hotties. 'Sides, that kinda shit never leads anywhere good. Watch yourself, kiddo."

Kelly was left alone on the landing needing to talk to someone. She pulled out her cell and dialed Beth's number but it went directly to voicemail. "Damn." She left a short message and ended the call.

She thought about Rick, how he filled an empty space in her heart, and dialed his number on a whim. She just wanted to hear his outgoing message, listen to his voice, so she was startled when he picked up.

"Perfect timing, beautiful." She never tired of hearing him call her that. "Just stepped out of a meeting and have exactly five minutes to chat before I have to go into another. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing." She was breathless talking to him. Guilt over her attraction to Brandon was welling up inside. "I just wanted to hear your voice."

"I love hearing yours, too. Listen, I'm really sorry about last night. I know I left you hanging and that was a shitty thing to do, but these meetings are killing me. I promise I'll make it up to you."

"When? When do you see that happening?"

Rick was silent. "I don't know. Things are getting really hairy right now. Few more days, I hope."

"So in the meantime, you'll be keeping the same schedule?"

Irritation crept into his voice. "Yes, Kelly, I've told you that a dozen times already." He took a deep breath. "I know it's not ideal, or what you had planned, but I don't know what else to do. I
have
to get this wrapped up as soon as possible."

Kelly added another brick to the wall she'd been building back up. "Hey, no worries. I've got plenty to keep me occupied. I've gotta run. I have another call coming in."

"Okay, beautiful, talk to you s..."

Kelly clicked over to Beth's call. "Cinderella! I can't talk long but I want to take you to dinner tonight around nine. Where should I pick you up?"

"Do you know the Vegas Towers?"

Beth paused. "Yeah, I think I can find it."

"Okay, I'm in the penthouse. I'd love to show it to you."

"Maybe we could do that another time. I'm going to be famished by then, so why don't I just pick you up outside."

"Oh, okay." Kelly was disappointed but understood where Beth was coming from. Nine was awfully late for dinner.

"Gotta go. See you then!"
 

Kelly could think of no other way to delay going back into the gallery, so she pocketed the phone, took a deep breath and slid open the door.

Brandon sat in the kitchenette, his elbow draped cockily behind him on his chair, his body stretched out and taking up as much space as possible, his robe barely closed enough to cover his goods. He was relishing the attention most of the female — and a couple of male — artists were lavishing on him. He threw Kelly a lascivious wink and an arrogant nod as she walked past toward the little stage.

Perching herself on the edge of the stage, she watched Brandon work his admirers. Each one received a broad, toothy smile. Some got a handshake, others a brush of the hand against their elbow or leg. When a new person approached, he shifted so a little more flesh peeked out from beneath the robe. It was masterful, really. He knew exactly how to charm the pants off anyone, regardless of whether he actually wanted to get in their pants.

Kelly shook her head ruefully. What had she been thinking? This guy was a total player. Insincere, egotistical, and frankly, a little disgusting. She couldn't believe she'd felt any kind of attraction for him, much less had been tempted to act on it.
Yuck
, she thought with a small shudder.

Greta glided up next to her and sat down. "Kelly, do you have any plans for next week?"

Kelly laughed at the idea of her schedule having anything but painting and Rick on it. "Let me check my calendar." She pretended to punch buttons on an imaginary phone. "Thought so. Free as a bird!"