Page 40 of Developing Hearts (Pine Point Fixer-Uppers #5)

Chapter forty

David

The fervor from before suffused every inch of David as he sat at the canvas.

He had to get Mason captured correctly. He wasn’t even fully aware of moving his brush, switching colors, any of it.

He only barely noticed when Mason opened his eyes and glanced over, and didn’t have the presence of moment to acknowledge it at all.

He was in a fugue, a trance, a creative storm that couldn’t let him go, and it was the most glorious thing David had felt in far too long.

This was the high that he chased after, that he switched projects over and over again trying to pin down.

And Mason was the reason. He was the point of obsession, of fascination, of rapture.

David could paint him, draw him, sculpt him, cross-stitch him onto decorative pillows forever and never get tired of it.

He was absolutely, bone-deep certain of it.

He swept fine lines of emerald and onyx across the canvas, blending them together, and in the back of his mind, he tried to think where they would have tucked his gold leaf.

It was like he could see everything at once, because even as he stared at Mason, masturbating alone against the backdrop of Seattle through the window, and even as he laid down more paint, he caught sight of a label on one of his new storage units in the studio: METALLICS.

David rose in-between strokes of his brush, and that was when he noticed how absolutely iron-hard his dick was.

He imagined Mason’s hand down there instead, Mason’s mouth, and a tiny, animal part of himself wanted to abandon the painting.

Did he need another gestural nude to hang up in his condo that had literally just been redecorated?

Of course I do . He pulled out one square of gold leaf and brought it back, pressing it roughly against the arch of paint that was Mason’s hair, bringing it to vibrant, shimmering life, and his stomach tightened in the best way.

He could do this, he could devote himself to this instead of simply trying to get his dick wet…

because Mason wasn’t going anywhere. Mason was hands down the most solid guy David had ever been with.

He dotted on a nipple, making it a little more angular than it was in real life.

When Mason shifted, rolling his shoulders back, David cut a line of red across the middle of the portrait, almost bisecting it.

He thought for a second that it might be too ridiculous to add a spot of gold to the tip of the penis, but he did it anyway, and it worked.

He grabbed a new brush and thinned out some more of the green paint, spraying it like jade stars across the entire canvas, and across his thighs and his belly and his face.

He wasn’t sure if he was sweating or if he was just feeling paint running down his forehead.

But the backdrop was the lights of the Emerald City. He had to get it just right.

It felt almost like an orgasm its own right when he scratched a final, filament-thin line of titanium white through the black sweep of Mason’s ass, up his lower back, and out to the edge of the canvas.

“Fuck me.” It was done. It was done, and it was perfect, and as he let his gaze drift to Mason…

he adjusted his opinion. The painting was excellent.

Mason was perfect. David walked up to him, sliding behind him and running his hands down Mason’s shoulders, across his chest, down toward his midsection. He grabbed Mason’s earlobe in his teeth and tugged, eliciting a moan that made David’s dick throb.

Then he whispered. “That was a request.”

Mason tilted his head back. His eyes were bleary, face crimson. “What was a request?”

“I finished. And I said ‘fuck me.’ I didn’t want you to think that was just an exclamation of relief.

” He pressed his lips to Mason’s. “I want to break in the master bathroom and I want you to fuck me.” He grabbed Mason’s free hand and brought it back, sliding the fingers between his ass cheeks. “Right there, if you don’t mind.”

“Mind?” Mason’s gaze slowly cleared and he turned around, still gripping his dick like a club. A smile crossed his face. “After the last three weeks? I can’t think of anything I want to do more.”

He latched his mouth onto David’s neck and sucked and bit and worked his tongue over the sensitive skin. David clawed into his back and his hips thrust forward of their own accord. “Jesus. Fuck. Mason. Jesus.”

Mason finally released him and grinned, his lips slick with spit and his face even redder than before. “Except that. I’ve been wanting to do that.”

“What, give me a hickey?”

Mason nodded, a gleam in his eyes now that he was fully aware again. “Since you still have time off. I wouldn’t send you to work like that without your permission. But I wanted to leave my mark.”

“God that’s…hot.” David leaned in and kissed him again, running his fingers through Mason’s hair and feeling the slight dampness of sweat he must have built up while jerking off. “Let’s get in the shower and get this underway.”

Mason’s eyes flicked toward the back of the canvas still on the easel. “I don’t get to see the final piece?”

“That’ll be your reward for being a good boy and fucking me.”