Muse. Sommer Marsden

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       Chapter 8

      Dani was running late. Her boot heels tapped out a hurried rhythm on the tile as she raced toward the classroom. She couldn’t find her keys when it came time to leave the house and had finally, after much swearing and panic, found them under her purse instead of in the bowl by the door where she normally kept them.

      Chris was speaking to his Tuesday-night class when she rushed in. He looked up, surprised but not annoyed, and then a strange look passed across his face like a cloud blocking out the sun for a moment.

      ‘Sorry,’ she said, softly. ‘I had a snafu. If you could just give me my—’

      He went to the brass coat rack by his desk and pulled the kimono down. ‘Class, this is Dani Young, our model for tonight. When you sketch her, I expect you to catch the roses in her cheeks from running.’ He handed her the robe and stroked a fingertip along the jut of her cheekbone. Then he winked at her and said softly, ‘You’re fine. Go change.’

      She nodded, clutching the robe, and hurried off to the restroom to change into, well, nothing.

      This was a hell of a way to not be nervous, she thought. Be late. Be more upset that you’re tardy than that you have to reveal all your secret bits to another group of strangers. But the fact that she wasn’t very nervous about that at all, was in fact more nervous about seeing Chris after that stupid dream, made the night seem even more surreal than the previous class.

      She walked into tonight’s class. Brand-new faces regarded her. Some interested, some slightly embarrassed, some bored. Tonight she was able to meet eyes and size people up. She didn’t think the Zen thing would be necessary this time but took a deep breath just in case.

      ‘I’ll show you your pose, Dani,’ Chris said, rising from his seat. ‘I try to mix things up,’ he said as he got closer.

      She caught a whiff of his aftershave. Woodsy and subtle. It filled her senses for a split second and the fine hairs on her arm rose up. Chris was manipulating her arms as she stood there utterly nude and to her surprise he spotted that detail. ‘Cold?’ he whispered so the class couldn’t hear.

      His hot breath moved across her skin as he spoke and her nipples spiked, hard and sensitive before she could even begin to will them not to. As if that were possible.

      Lying was the best option. ‘A little,’ she whispered.

      He nodded, moved her hands so that her right hand clasped her left wrist, almost obscuring her sex from the viewers. He took his fingertips and tilted her head just so. ‘I’ll turn the heat up a little bit. I know this pose is a tiny bit awkward, I try to make them simple, not just for them, but for you, as well. Just do your best, OK?’

      She almost nodded and caught herself. ‘OK,’ she said softly.

      All she wanted was for him to move away from her and fast. Her body, the traitor that it was, seemed to be recalling every vivid detail from her dirty dream. His close proximity was spurring her body to lubricate and she could feel an anticipatory tremble starting. Hopefully if he noticed that he’d assume it was nerves.

      Finally, thank God, he walked away. Her gaze followed him. He wore faded jeans and a cream-coloured sweater. His dark hair was just a bit tousled, a light five o’clock shadow was blooming on his jaw. Though he’d left, the scent of him lingered around her. Her best option was to simply not breathe.

      That worked for about thirty seconds until her head started to feel buzzy. To distract herself, Dani turned her attention to the class. There was the hippy-dippy lady in the back. She was decked out in tie-dyed yoga pants, long silver-blonde dreadlocks, a flowy purple tunic and enough jewellery to sink a rowboat. She smiled at Dani when she caught her eye. Dani smiled back but only for a moment.

      Next to the tie-dyed lady sat a very thin young man who was dressed all in black. He had an undercut and eyeliner. His lips were so red she thought for a moment he was wearing lipstick, but then she realised those were just his lips. Lucky boy, she thought. I’d save a million dollars on lipstick if my lips were that colour …

      She let her gaze ping from one to the next. An uptight-looking woman dressed in classic office attire. Khaki pants, a button-down white shirt, small earrings, sensible heels. Next to her was …

       The silver fox.

      The thought popped into her head the second she saw him. He was broad and well-muscled but not gym-pumped. His hair was close cut, silver at the temples and some through the top. He had a five o’clock shadow like Chris but it was also shot with an almost metallic colouring. He had big blue eyes, she could see that from here. And when her eyes settled on him, she found he was looking at her. Intently. Definitely sketching her, she could see his hand moving, but the gaze held much much more than artistic interest.

      Something low in her stomach tumbled to life and her nipples, which had calmed down since Christopher’s retreat, went tight and tender all over again.

      Damn.

      He gave her a tiny incline of his head as greeting. Acknowledging her awareness with his own. Dani looked away. Let her gaze skip to the next person in his row. A large man who looked like a long-haul trucker. Now that was interesting. She suppressed a smile. Unlike the silver fox he was all bulk – wide shoulders, a body to match. He wore a concert T-shirt beneath a huge flannel shirt that was completely unbuttoned. Baggy jeans and work boots, complete with a trucker’s cap. His leg bounced up and down, up and down, vigorously as he worked. His tongue peeked from between his lips in concentration.

      The amusement grew. She found it interesting and wonderfully distracting to see the various kinds of people in Chris’s classes. Maybe it was true that the heart of an artist lived in us all.

      She startled slightly when Chris called for a break. He nodded to her as she moved, letting her stiff muscles flex. To clear her head, Dani wandered the halls sipping water before returning.

      Chris was talking to a student, standing behind the woman, pointing at the sketch pad she’d been working on. She heard random words. ‘The fall of her hair’, ‘muscle structure’, ‘side swell of her breast’. That one made her blush. She shut her eyes for a moment, willing the heat not to invade her face but that was a bad move. She was immediately back with the two men, poised in front of her, paintbrushes in hand, swirling cool paint over the halos of her nipples, down her skin, towards the desperate place between her thighs.

      ‘… now Dani … Dani?’

      She opened her eyes. Blinked. ‘Sorry?’

      ‘If you could take your place now. We’ll do about twenty more minutes then I want to go over your work with you and fill you in on some of our upcoming assignments.’

      She nodded, went back to the stool which she didn’t use. She simply stood in front of it, dropped her robe and tried to recall her position. She glanced up to find the silver fox watching her. There went that thing in her stomach again. There was something entirely intoxicating about looking at a man and being able to see his desire for you blatantly painted across his face.

      Christopher СКАЧАТЬ