Blaze (Big D Escort Service Book 2) by Willow Summers

Author:Willow Summers [Summers, Willow]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-13T16:00:00+00:00

Twenty

Janie started at the sound of Dave’s voice. The door opened.

“Oh shit, no!” She barreled into it, trying to keep him from entering. “Get out! I’ve got it. I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Wait… Janie, please, I don’t want to hurt you by forcing my way in. Move.”

“Then don’t force your way in.” She pushed with everything she had.

“Is that a painting of me?”

The door slowly made ground against her. Her feet slid. Her knuckles whitened as she pushed against it helplessly.

“Nope. It isn’t a painting of you. It is a random painting of a random man I saw at a strip show.”

The door continued to push her toward the wall before it came to a sudden stop.

She knew why.

From his line of sight, he would be able to see the nude painting of himself. She’d kept it on an easel so it would always be in her line of sight. It turned her on while also moving that deep place within her. With it there, she didn’t get the urge to see him. She didn’t miss him as much.

Something she didn’t want to explain to him.

Not that an explanation would lessen the creepiness of entering a room to see a large nude painting of oneself. That would ruin his day.

She would never live this down.

“It is me,” Dave said.

“That’s circumstantial.” What was this, a crime show?

He walked forward, his eyes roaming the canvas, his hands limp at his sides. He stared at his own face.

It was probably the most awkward thing Janie had ever experienced in her whole life.

Maybe owning it would make it less horrible.

“Sorry?” she tried.

He didn’t seem to hear her.

His gaze drifted to the side. To one of two paintings she had been thinking of taking downstairs.

His gaze dropped to the ground. To the paintings lining the base of the wall, three or four deep. The piece that had made Madison feel like a voyeur was out front. Another, also inspired by Dave, showed a woman experiencing a soul-clenching orgasm. One of Dave himself, stripping off his clothes as he walked into the apartment after a night of whoring.

He picked through them, emerging with one inspired by their first meeting. He’d swooped her up into his arms after she was man-handled by her ex-boyfriend. She’d titled that piece Safety.

His hands shook as he put the piece down. His face was closed down in consternation. He was probably thinking: restraining order.

The newer pieces got the next wave of notice. He checked out the other painting she’d thought of showing, also on the blander side. Nothing that really told people much about herself. That was good enough for Martha. The one simply titled Love made him pause for the longest. He couldn’t seem to stop staring.

Did extra-strength restraining orders exist? Because Dave would probably ask for that type.

After the longest impromptu and unwanted art show in the history of the world, he walked toward the door and grabbed the handle.

Janie thought he’d walk out without comment. It probably would’ve been the kindest approach.

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