The Gallery_A Reverse Harem Romance by Mika Lane

Author:Mika Lane [Lane, Mika]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Headlands Publishing
Published: 2018-05-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

ASH

The first Kink Lab held at Avril’s gallery was a massive success.

It was clear she’d gone into the venture with a lot of trepidation, but the party came off without a hitch, and Avril’s bank account was about to be richer by one hundred thousand dollars.

A great night all around, if you asked me.

And damn, if she wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous at the party. Gio, the lucky bastard, got her all to himself and was now seriously love struck.

I was right behind him with my turn. I was picking her up at the school for special kids, where she taught art, and then we were going to get something to eat and listen to jazz.

My cab dropped me where Avril did her volunteering. It looked like any other elementary school, with hand-drawn pictures in the windows and monkey bars over a huge sand pit.

After I was buzzed inside, I ducked my head into what I guessed was the school’s office.

“I’m looking for Avril Crane,” I said to the white-haired lady behind the counter.

“Oh, yes. One moment please. “ She flipped through some papers. “Ash? Ash Singh?”

“Yes that’s me.”

“She told me she was expecting you. She’s in the third classroom on the right, if you’d like to go take a peek.”

School office workers hadn’t changed much since I was last in the elementary grades in New Jersey.

I took my time wandering down the hall, amazed at both the familiarity and the strangeness of the elementary school where everything was designed to suit the height of four-foot tall mini-humans. The place smelled vaguely of paste and dusty books, and cork bulletin boards were crowded with large stenciled letters reminding people to have a good day. There was a quiet buzz as adult voices floated out of the classrooms, followed by a chorus of children’s’ voices. It was all so sweet, it made me forget for one moment what I’d hoped to do with Avril later that night.

When I found her class, I stood in the doorway where I could watch her in action. She buzzed around the room with an apron over her clothes, helping her little students with their masterpieces. She was so in her element, laughing and encouraging her charges, hard at work at their tiny desks and chairs.

Finally, I caught her eye.

She moved from the crouched position where she was talking to an unhappy little artist crying over, from what I could see, a disagreement about who got to use the green paint next. Smoothing out her apron, she headed over to me.

“Hi! I’m so sorry. I lost track of time. Let me gather my things.”

“Hey,” I said. I grabbed her hand and pulled her into the empty hallway.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her eyes wide.

Fuck, she was a beauty.

I leaned close to her, so closely, I could smell what I guessed was simple shampoo and a small spritz of Chanel. Bringing my finger to her cheek, I said, “You have a little smudge of paint right here on your cheek.

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