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“What the fuck for?”
“I’ve got studio time.”
“Studio time?”
“Yeah. I don’t have a big enough space to paint so I sign up for spots at the school’s studio. But I’m not a visual arts major so I get last pick of the available times. I can’t do late nights because of the bar, so I take the early morning stuff.”
So that’s where she paints. I wish I could watch her, but even I get that it would be creepy.
And then I realize, if I’m not careful, I’m going to turn into Gris. All gushy over a woman. Which is a problem because I’m my family’s enforcer. The man who does all the nasty shit.
Turning her stepfather into a meat puppet? Easy. Snuggling on Sunday mornings? That’s not going to be me. I’m the thing that goes bump in the night.
Then again, I probably shouldn’t worry. She only blew me because I bartered for it. As long as we keep this a tit-for-tat kind of affair, there shouldn’t be any trouble at all.
Then again, trouble is my middle name.
CHAPTERNINE
Killian
Her alarm goesoff at a ridiculously early hour considering how late we were up and how interrupted the night’s sleep was.
She crawls over me to turn off the beeping and then remains on my chest, curled on top of me.
I wrap my arms around her, closing my eyes again. “Getting up is a shitty idea,” I murmur into her hair, which is cascading over my shoulder onto the pillow.
“I told you, it’s the only chance I have to paint.”
“New idea.” I slide a hand down her back, settling it just above her ass. “We go get your stuff at the last possible moment you can enter the studio and then you paint as long as you want at my place.” I’d like to watch her work.
I know it’s a very flawed plan. I went to bed claiming this was just going to be an exchange of sexual favors, but Chloe is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I just want to look at her for a while.
I can picture her barefoot and in a messy bun with paint splattered all over the epoxy cement floors in my loft.
“I can’t do that,” she murmurs into my chest and then starts to push herself up and off me.
I tighten my arms. “Why not?”
“Because,” she sighs. “You’re my stalker. I can’t go hanging out at your place. That’s just wrong.”
I don’t release her. “It would make the stalking much easier if you did.”
She gives a sleepy chuckle but settles back on my chest. “We both know I haven’t been a challenge at all. In terms of the stalking…”
“No. But you’ve been the most fun.”
She lifts her head then, her eyes narrowed into slits. “Do you stalk a lot of women?”
I hadn’t been expecting jealousy, and I’ve got to be honest, I fucking love it. I shift her so that her stomach is flat on mine, her legs falling to either side of my hips.
She’s warm and so soft. Reaching for her cheek, I don’t tell her this week is full of firsts for me too. Instead, I kiss her with the lazy gentleness six in the morning deserves. “No. I don’t. And also, just so you know, you’re the only woman I’ve ever invited to my place.”
“Oh,” her eyes go wide as her cheeks flush with this bronzing pink that’s gorgeous. “Really?”
“So I’ll be crushed if you don’t accept.”
“I have a hard time believing that anything could crush you.” But she’s settling back on my chest, getting comfy. “My studio time ends at nine, I have to pick up supplies before then or someone else will be in the room.”