Art of love, p.2
Art of Love, page 2
I nodded slowly. Thank God, I wasn’t stupid enough to turn him down.
Chapter 2
Hunter
***
You know what was better than having to wallow in sorrow by yourself?
Having company.
Not that I wished badly on people or that I took pleasure in other’s misfortune. It was just that being depressed with company definitely beat being depressed by myself.
A bottle of wine... nope, we were on the second, made it so much better.
And the cherry on top was the beautiful woman sitting in my lap. The gorgeous brunette, with her thick wavy, silky hair that hung down her shoulders in loose tendrils cascading down her fully rounded breasts.
I came here to get wasted, and this idea of mine got a fuck of a lot better when I stepped in this place and my eyes landed on her.
“Brad, this wine tastes better than mine. I can’t remember what mine was.” She cooed, snuggling closer to me and pushing her breasts into my chest.
“Hunter,” I corrected her again for the umpteenth time.
She’d taken to calling me Brad as in Brad Pitt, Brad. It wasn’t the first time I’d been called that, but this was probably the funniest time because at first, she was apologetic for getting my name wrong, but then, as she drank more, it seemed to stay in her mind.
“Yes, I know you hunted in the film.”
“Okay.” Best to agree with her.
She gave me a sweet smile that made her bright brown eyes sparkle. But when I looked at her, I could tell straight away that while she looked awake and alert, her mind was gone. Elsewhere.
She wasn’t just wasted, she was plastered.
Back home we would call this look pissed out of her mind.
She cupped my face and ran her hands over my beard, smiling brighter, revealing perfect white teeth.
“You are so gorgeous.” She leaned close, and I thought she was going to kiss me, but she just brushed her nose against mine.
“So are you.” I pulled her closer, feeling my cock stir.
Beneath the sweet smell of wine, the sweet smell of her filled me and almost, almost made me forget why I came in here.
Almost made me forget the knife that was plunged into my heart earlier when I caught my best friend balls deep in my girlfriend.
I wanted to forget, but best to remember. For months now, I’d suspected Emma was cheating on me. It was just like before when we’d broken up and I’d suspected it was to do with her wanting to see someone else. Then we got back together last year, and I thought things were fine, except that it felt like she was doing that because of my new job at the law firm. She just suddenly came back on the scene a week after I got the job. When we were together before, I’d just been a pro bono attorney. Then Silvermans snapped me up, and she came running back. I didn’t want to believe it was that, but what confirmed it to me was that she started acting weird again the minute I talked about leaving.
Law was something my parents wanted me to do, but I’d never wanted to do it. Eager to please them, I went down that path, and I did well but wasn’t happy.
Telling the woman who was supposed to love me how I felt was a normal thing to do. I didn’t realize it would drive her into the arms of my best friend, who also knew how I felt about my job and my life and my suspicions that my girlfriend was cheating on me.
I just couldn’t believe that I never guessed it was with him. I’d known Collin since college. I came here straight from England to study because I felt that if I was going to do Law, I wanted to practice somewhere exciting.
We went to Georgetown together, did everything together. He was like a damn brother to me. I couldn’t believe he would betray me in this way. Not him.
I think I was possibly more upset about his betrayal than Emma’s. I almost expected this day to come and catch her, and I was an idiot for staying with someone like that.
“You aren’t even an asshole,” my new friend bubbled, continuing to run her hands over my beard.
“No?”
“Of course not. Please don’t tell me you think you are because of that mean old girlfriend of yours.” She wagged her finger in front of me, reminding me of one of my high school librarians. She had done something similar.
“Nope, and you mean ex-girlfriend.” I grabbed the bottle of wine and took a good swig.
We had glasses somewhere. I think a waitress must have come to get them after one broke. I couldn’t remember.
Quite possibly, I was heading the drunken way fast, but that was the plan. Get drunk, plastered, and wipe today out of my mind.
“Ex-girlfriend. So that’s it? Won’t you give her another chance?” I could see she was trying to focus, but it wasn’t working.
“No.” Emma had had enough chances.
“So, you’re single?” She seemed to brighten within her intoxicated haze, as if it just dawned on her.
I didn’t bother to tell her that if I didn’t consider myself single, there would be no way she’d be sitting in my lap like this pressed up against me.
I would tell her this though. “I’m very, very single. Lucky me.”
“Lucky me.” She ran her fingers over the ridge of muscle on my left pec and smiled. “I get to explore you without feeling guilty.”
Explore me. Now, that sounded good. Looking at her, at her perfection, at the fine body on her and her gorgeous mouth with her perfect full lips, I couldn’t imagine anything better than allowing this woman to explore me.
And to have fun. Hot, steamy, sexy fun, because fuck, I would explore the hell out of her too. But no way could I sleep with a woman who was off her face drunk.
I could have other fun with her though.
Within reason.
Numbness filled my mind as the wine worked its way in. Good. I liked when that happened. It usually worked, and right about now, I’d forget whatever the hell was bothering me. Not today though, or tonight. I glanced outside quickly. It was night.
I didn’t know what the hell time it was, but it seemed like no matter how much time passed and how much I drank, I couldn’t get the image of Collin fucking Emma out of my head. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t, and I wanted to so badly.
Long, sexy fingers ran across my chest, up my neck, and back up to caress the edge of my chin.
Her touch soothed me, tantalized me, and enhanced the drug-like inducement of the wine.
“Do you want to explore me?” Jia cooed.
I looked at her. Really looked at her and got lost in those light brown eyes that reminded me of autumn. Its vibrant hue created that warmth, almost like actual fire burned within them.
“I do.”
She smiled at me and shuffled in my lap, rubbing over my cock, which was already hard for her.
I had to calm myself. She’d told me what happened to her, and I thought it was terrible. Being robbed like that was always terrible. Thankfully, it hadn’t happened to me, but us hooking up because of our problems was ... God...
I thought it would be wrong, but why not?
If we did, would I regret it in the morning, or feel guilty?
It didn’t escape me that my encounter with Collin and Emma had occurred a good few hours ago. At least three hours before I came to the bar, and it was only Collin who had called me. He’d called close to a hundred times. Nothing from Emma though.
Why didn’t that surprise me?
There were no apologies, no calls to check up on me, no nothing. But I suppose the real question was, did I love her? If I loved her, then that would impact on how I felt.
The fact that it hurt me more that Collin betrayed me gave me my answer. And that gave me the other answer too on whether or not I’d feel guilty if I indulged in this woman in my arms tonight.
Like fuck. I would not, and that wasn’t the drink talking.
“What would you do to me first?” Her voice rippled into me, and it was all I could do to keep calm.
“I have a few things in mind, but sweetheart, you haven’t confirmed if you’re single or not. I’m not a cheater.”
“Of course not. I never thought that about you, aaaaand....” she slurred and blinked like she was trying to remember what she was talking about. “I’m very single. Very, very single. You know why?”
I really wanted to know. “Why is that, love?”
“No time for myself. I worked too hard, and I put everyone first, right before me. Always. Yes, I do. I do. Good old St. Jia. I worked and worked, and I worked. No time to date. The last guy I was with called me a workaholic, can you believe that?”
A tear ran down her cheek, and I reached out and caught it, cupping her face.
The poor girl looked like she’d been through a lot. My heart went out to her in a big way.
“Come here,” I beckoned her closer, guiding her to my lips.
As soon as her beautiful lips pressed against mine, heat washed over my body. We kissed slow at first, tasting each other.
“You taste nice.” She giggled against my lips. The music turned up a fraction louder, and the lights were dimmed even more.
“You taste nice too.”
“Hunter, that’s your name. I like that name.”
I liked Jia too. Unusual name. Pretty name for a beautiful woman.
I reclaimed her lips and took advantage of her little gasp to sweep my tongue over hers and explore the recesses of her hot, wet mouth. God, she did taste good. Like sex and passion rolled into one and something that...
Something that made me forget.
Fuck. In that moment, I forgot. I forgot who I was, where I was, when I was, everything.
Everything except her.
The kiss turned hungry and primal when we really got going. I could no longer control myself. I wanted her. I wanted her badly. To the point where I ached.
My hands roamed from her waist up to her left breast, and I squeezed.
No one could see because that was the side that faced me. She moaned into my mouth and pulled back, so she could look down at my fingers circling the hard nipple.
“God, that feels so good.”
“Do you want to get out of here?” We needed to. I’d gotten to that point where I was ready to rip her clothes off.
“Mmmm hmmm, let’s take the wine with us.”
I grabbed the bottle as she hopped off my lap, then I grabbed her.
Time for some fun. Some well-deserved fun.
Chapter 3
Jia
***
The weight of warm hands pressed against the bare skin of my back.
My head...
Why did my head feel like it was on fire? Maybe that was what it was. My head and my back with the burning sensation.
But I was sure the weight on my back felt more like a hand.
I didn’t know.
When the bed moved, I snapped my eyes open and found myself staring at the Japanese character for love. A tattoo...
A dark, inky black tattoo over the rigid peak of a man’s chest.
What?
Why was there a man ....
My eyes widened when I ran my gaze up and landed on his face. I was totally stunned for a moment as I stared at what was probably the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in my life off screen, but then reality hit.
Reality hit along with a memory.
Reality. Why was I lying on top of said man with his arm around me?
Memory... I remembered being in the bar yesterday. Yesterday... I think it was yesterday. I remembered it being night, so I was going to go out on a limb and hope like hell that was yesterday. The way I felt it could be days later.
I remembered drinking, drinking because of the shit with Bane, and then this guy coming into the bar. The Brad Pitt/Thor look-alike. The Thor part I had a hazy recollection of. And he was English.
I remembered drinking with him, then...
Then what happened?
My heart sped up, and my pulse jumped. I couldn’t remember!
I couldn’t remember. And...
I was naked!
God in heaven, what the hell? I sure knew how to make a bad, bad situation so much worse.
What did I do?
Did I sleep with him?
I didn’t feel like I’d just had sex. All I felt was panic and embarrassment... then worry.
Were we careful? I looked around for signs of maybe a condom wrapper. I wasn’t on birth control. My pills ran out last week, and I forgot to go to the doctor.
I’d decided to wait until I got to L.A., then sort all that stuff out because I had to change dentist too.
Oh fuck, screw all of that.
I was naked, and he was ...
I lifted the silky sheets and looked down at his strong, powerful legs that looked more contoured in his boxers.
Okay, he was wearing clothes, but I was butt naked. So, we must have done something.
I couldn’t believe it. I just couldn’t. Gorgeous as he was, this was bat shit crazy. Jesus Christ.
I’d gone out and slept with some guy I didn’t even know, and I couldn’t remember what the hell happened.
I shuffled out of his arms and slid off the bed hoping not to wake him and thankfully didn’t. On the floor over by the chest of drawers were my panties. Taking my time to pad across the wooden floor, I grabbed them. The rest of my clothes was nowhere to be found.
I looked around the tastefully decorated room with mahogany furniture and its beige and cream colors and found nothing. Where the hell did my clothes go?
And my shoes?
Ugh. I did the next best thing and rushed up to his wardrobe to grab one of his shirts. No way was I going to stay here, searching around for my clothes, and risk waking him up.
Then what? What could I say? I couldn’t even remember his name.
I grabbed a white button-down shirt and practically threw it on. It just reached the tops of my thighs, so looked a little like a shirt dress. I then grabbed one of his ties from the rack hanging on the door and tied it around my waist so as not to make it look so obvious that I was wearing a man’s shirt, and clearly, I was doing that because I didn’t know where my clothes were.
God. Why?
Why did I think drinking everything the bar owned had been a good idea?
I still remembered my problems just as much as ever, and my meeting with....
Oh fuck! The meeting! The meeting with John! What time was it?
I scanned the room for a clock but didn’t find one. And where was my bag?
I winced and damn it, Mr. Brad Pitt shuffled and reached out over the sheet like he was reaching for something... or someone. Me.
“Love,” he mumbled.
I froze, trying not to breathe too hard.
This was so embarrassing. So very embarrassing and complete shit.
I watched the strength in his chest as it rose and fell. The sun from the window bathed him in a radiant light, making his hair sparkle. Panicked as I was, I couldn’t help but watch him. He really was gorgeous. Beautiful even, like the painting of a perfect man.
The perfect man who got me, Miss Bad Luck, to his place for some kind of a wild night that left me with amnesia.
I couldn’t believe I couldn’t remember. That was so crazy, reckless, and irresponsible. Who knows what could have happened to me? Thank God, I wasn’t lying in a ditch somewhere dead.
But that was just one bad thing that could have happened to me. I didn’t know what awaited me.
I wouldn’t kid myself and believe I just happened to fall asleep on this guy, naked, and we didn’t do anything. So, on the very likely chance that we had sex, unprotected sex, I could be looking at all manner of eventualities.
Pregnancy just being one of them. My father wasn’t a part of my life. He didn’t want to be a part of my life and wanted nothing to do with me or Mom. It bothered me a lot when I was younger, but as time went by, I accepted it. Mom had been the other woman. She got involved with a married man and had me. My father chose to stay with his wife, who took him back.
End of story.
The man in our home had been Todd. Older than me by eight years, he had to grow up too fast, especially when Mom died, then Grams. His father was a Marine who died in the gulf war. Nothing like mine, who had no honor or dignity.
What if Mr. Gorgeous over there was married? I couldn’t believe this crazy predicament.
He seemed to drift back into sleep.
Good, this was my chance to dash without him seeing me.
I took the chance and basically fled. I found my purse downstairs but still no clothes, or shoes. The clock on the wall said it was ten.
At least I had time on my side. Time to work out where I was and get a taxi back to my apartment. I just hoped I wasn’t too far away.
Outside, I froze when I saw my clothes floating in the wind as they hung from the branch of the willow tree that overlooked the house. My top and my capri pants. It looked like they came through the bedroom window.
When I saw that, I really did flee. Me barefooted and in this barely-there shirt.
***
I waited until I was a safe distance from the house before I called a taxi.
It took me an hour to get to my apartment, two hours to practically give myself a serious makeover, and then less than an hour to head to the gallery with fifteen minutes to spare.
Now, instead of trying not to think of my dire financial situation, I was trying to calm my poor heart from popping out of my chest every time I thought back to last night.
It was the part about not remembering that got me and got me good because it was as if someone had wiped my brain clean of everything that took place after I joined Mr. Gorgeous.
And right now, I couldn’t be thinking about that. I hadn’t seen John in years. He was the most inspiring person I’d ever met, but at the same time, he had some unusual ways about him that no one could understand.
He was the kind of person who knew he wasn’t just good, but a legend, and he knew too that people like me would sell their arm and leg, and possibly their soul, for a chance to work with him.
A chance to work with him in the art world was like receiving a plate of gold and doors to opportunity.
I’d fallen head over heels in love with his work and his talent all those years ago, but what I craved was the opportunities that would head my way if I got the chance to work with him.
