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Chapter Seven

Harper

My Kitten was properly sated, nearly purring as she began to doze off.

I swear, I could watch her sleep for hours.

Creepy? Maybe to some, but it was more an appreciation for the beautiful woman who held my gaze.

Like a summer storm, Sonnet came into my life and turned it upside down—in the best of ways.

From her silly giggles to the softness of her skin, and goddess, how she moans, her back gracefully arching as she comes.

Images I’ll draw from for days on end when we’re apart, but everything about Sonnet called to me.

I wonder if I took a picture of her in the throes of passion if she’d paint it for me.

Hmm, food for thought. To capture an all-encompassing image of her natural beauty would be amazing.

Flesh so smooth, supple breasts, and pinkened nipples—freshly plucked by yours truly.

The curve of her spine, the dip of her tailbone as it opened into the mounds of her perfect derriere .

It would be challenging to stop in the middle of making love to take it, but it’d be worth it. In the end I’d always ensure my Kitten was well taken care of, as I had tonight, so the pause would only be momentary. Nothing more than foreplay, denial in a game of chase the ultimate orgasm.

Curled up around Sonnet, my dreams filled with the wonderful memories from tonight, sleep easily came. Though what I didn’t expect to find the next morning was to be cuddled up with a pillow with a note atop it, in lieu of her body.

Note: Harper, Last night was wonderful, but my muse wouldn’t shut up. I’m off to create. Until next time. XOXO Sonnet

Even whispering her name set my soul on fire. Had I ever inspired another to create? What a great way to start the day, especially when your lover was inspired as opposed to being filled with regret after one of the best nights of my life.

One night and I’ve got it bad…

“Good morning, Soleil .” Running into an overly happy Simon in my kitchen was not on my bingo card for today. His heavy accent, one of the things that first drew me to him, only served to irritate my uncaffeinated brain.

“What are you doing in here?” All I wanted was to have the morning to myself, a cup of coffee in hand while basking in the afterglow.

Simon handed me a cup, fixed just the way I liked it. It somewhat helped my cross and, honestly, misguided anger. “You’re so much nicer after caffeine, though sex used to have the same effect on you.”

“Cute.” But he wasn’t far off. “I had an amazing night. Now wipe that sneer off your face.” Catty bastard. “Where’s your latest toy?”

“Meh,” Simon waved his hand through the air. “Sent him on his way. He’d run his course, and I’d grown tired of him fucking everything that moved.”

Sounded about right.

“I don’t know whether to say I’m sorry or to thank you.”

“Seems to be the general consensus amongst the staff. Security was done with finding him in compromising positions. C’est la vie .” His hand flittered through the air.

Simon was right, that’s life. At least in his world.

“Where’s your new flavor?” There were times when his snide remarks did nothing and others, such as this, where they got a rise out of me.

“New flavor is the only flavor by choice. No sharing, no open relationship, no booty calls. Sonnet went home to start the new art for us. We decided to date, exclusively.” As if my statement hadn’t already clarified that it was worth reiterating.

Many times, over the years Simon and I shared lovers, both solo and in group settings, but this time that wasn’t happening.

His raised brow said more than the words I hoped he’d carefully choose. “Mistress Harper dating? Hath hell frozen over?”

“It might. Keep pushing, and you’ll be the first one on the bus to find out.”

His hearty laughter filled my home. “ Mon Amor , I’m happy if you’re happy. We may no longer be lovers, but you will always be my best friend, and I wish you all the happiness in the world.” Simon kissed my cheek and put his cup in the dishwasher.

“Thank you, Simon. I wish the same for you, though I guarantee you won’t find it lurking in the dark corners of the club.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but yours came from within these hallowed walls.”

“Hallowed?” I chuckled. “You always did have a way with words.”

He bowed, accepting it as a compliment. “It’s a gift. I’m off to prepare for my eleven a.m. session. Give my best to Sonnet.” Simon winked and disappeared down the hall.

A day to myself, a rare occurrence, and yet my fingers itched to reach out to Sonnet instead of allowing my body and mind to relax.

While I didn’t necessarily have a creative muse, I did understand being in the zone and lost to whatever task I was engrossed with.

Breaking the momentum wasn’t wise and was oftentimes hard to regain.

Someone needs to write a book about how to learn to unwind after a lifetime of running non-stop.

Hmm, I wonder…

Coffee refilled, I grabbed my laptop and perched myself in the window seat.

The views from our top-floor apartments were breathtaking.

Simon and I both designed our homes with fantastic views in mind.

Locked and loaded, well, with my computer turned on at least, the challenge now was what to do given an empty to-do list. What was I hoping to find?

Being a list maker, I did just that—created a new one.

Or at least attempted to. Maybe one for places to take Sonnet. How does someone that doesn’t date plan dates for someone they know very little about?

An hour later, it hit me—they didn’t. They get dressed and do the only thing they know how to do—work.

“Harper, what are you doing in today?”

“One could ask the same of you, Patrice. It is Sunday, right?”

“True, but given our email blew up after last night’s party, I thought I’d come in and organize the feedback I knew you’d ask for.”

“Cheeky woman, nothing gets past you.” Dammit, I’d been had. “So, run me through the highlights. Any negatives?”

“Not a single one. Chef’s culinary creations were a big hit, as were the interactive displays.”

“Bunch of kinky fuckers, I love it.” Yes, those kinky fuckers, aka my people, were the reason our club was ridiculously successful. As with every day of my life, I logged in and was lost to the wide world of business ownership and our raving reviews.

But by Wednesday, when I hadn’t heard from Sonnet, I figured she’d moved on, forgotten about me and the magical night we shared. I thought she’d felt the connection too, but I guess I’d been mistaken.

I tossed the pen on the desk, disgusted with myself. “You’re a fool, Harper. Give it up.”

“Yes, you are,” Patrice hollered from her desk outside my office. “Now pick up line two and find out why.”

Huh? “This is Harper.”

“Hi, it’s Sonnet. I’m sorry to call your office, but I forgot to give you my number.” Her giggle was a welcome sound, righting my upside-down world. I could’ve smacked myself and asked Patrice for Sonnet’s contact info.

“I am such an idiot.”

“We both were, so let’s remedy that now. Otherwise, you’ll have to write down my address, which you’re fully capable of, but where’s the fun in that?”

Sonnet rattled off her number, and I shot off a text to her, so she’d have mine.

I heard her phone chime on the other end of the call.

“Perfect. Now, I’ve been working around the clock.

The images are coming to life, but before I go any further, I’d like for you to see them and make sure we’re of the same mind. ”

“I’m sure we are, but if you wanted to ask me out, you didn’t have to bribe me with artwork.” Just hearing her voice breathed new life into me. Sulking. That’s what the last three days have been. No one has ever ruffled me the way this woman has and likely wouldn’t again.

More of her sweet laughter came through. “True, but this way it’s dinner and a show. Wait, that was our first date. Hmm, not creative, but I promise something different for date three.”

“Date three, I like the way that sounds. Okay, send me the address and time you want me there, and let me know what I can bring.”

“Deal. And Harper?”

“Yes?”

“I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too, Kitten. Me too.”

Now, to make it two more days without Patrice strangling me.

Flowers ?

Wine ?

Sitting in my car too long outside of her building. Check and double-check.

Who knew finding your heart left you filled with a constant sense of insecurity.

“This is juvenile.” I grabbed the roses and wine off the passenger seat and headed inside.

A quick pep talk to myself in the elevator, thank fuck it was a solo ride, only helped momentarily, but when it stopped at her floor, so did my breath.

There she stood, and as soon as I saw her smiling face, the turmoil churning inside from the past week settled.

“Harper, it’s wonderful to see you.” Sonnet greeted me with a hug and a kiss. “Are those for me?”

“Yes, they are, though they pale in comparison to your beauty.” Wow, I’m not sure where that cheesy line came from, but it was going back inside the box marked ‘do not use again’.

“Corny and I love it. How did you know pink was my favorite color?” She drew in a deep breath, drawing the rosy scent from the petals. “What a gorgeous bouquet.”

“They reminded me of the beautiful blush that tinted your flesh. Your loft is amazing and, oddly enough, exactly as I’d envisioned it.” An artist’s loft for sure complete with paint splatters and drop cloths.

“Let me put these in water, and then I’ll give you the thirty-second tour.”

She pulled an ornate stained-glass vase from the cupboard, trimmed the stems, and strategically placed each rose, leaf bunches and baby’s breath included, into it until she had it just right. “There,” she smelled them again. “I don’t think I’ve ever had flowers this fragrant.”

Helps when a local florist was a client. “I’m glad you like them, Kitten.” Stored away for later surprises. I can’t play the same cards all the time gift-wise, but flowers were a definite repeat.

Sonnet came around the island, wrapped her arms around my waist, and snuggled into me. This girl had no idea of the calming effect she had on me. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Me too, sweetheart. Me too.” Did I have to let her go so we could walk around? I wasn’t ready to. It’d been one long ass week without seeing her.

“Come on.” With my hand in hers and a smile on her face, Sonnet played tour guide. “This is obviously the main area. Living room, kitchen. Behind this divider is my bedroom.”

“Are these individual canvases?” The makeshift divider was a vast piece of art.

“It is. I painted each of them. Most of the dividers I found were thin, and the sun came right through. I work long, odd hours and more often than not crashing during daylight hours, which means I don’t want the sun in my face.

So, I took a bunch of canvases, laid them out on the floor, and created one giant mural.

Each four-foot section is framed as one and are hinged so I can position them however I want. ”

“Absolutely brilliant and gorgeous.” Though the paintings were abstract, the flow between them was clear. The bohemian bedroom scape had Sonnet’s free soul written all over it. “This space is very you.”

“It’s my Zen, my sense of peace. The place where I go to shut my mind down.”

I could see that about Sonnet. Her mind running on an endless loop. Everyone and everything she saw was translated into art by that gifted brain of hers. What little I knew of Sonnet gave away the free spirit she was.

“And this is where the magic happens.”

I glanced back toward her sleeping area. “Isn’t that the room we just came from?”

“Nope. My magic comes in the form of paint and canvas.” She gestured around the open space. Daylight streamed through the windows, illuminating her work. And then, I spotted them.

“Sonnet, are these?” My breath caught, and my heart raced.

“These are perfect.” Sensual and alluringly non-binary.

“I love the gender-neutral ones as much as the defined drawings.” Tears welled in my eyes, and I now had a glimpse inside of what it felt like to be an artist. I may only be a dreamer, but she put my dreams to canvas.

“Sonnet.” I cursed myself for not having come up with that idea.

Our club was all-inclusive, and that should’ve been at the forefront of my mind.

“Are you sure? You don’t want them more specific or realistic?” She nervously chewed on her lip much as she had the other night.

“Absolutely not. These couldn’t be more on-point if you’d been inside my head. We’ll take them all. Name your price.”

“Mistress, we already agreed to a price, but I’d like for you to pick one just for yourself to place above your bed.”

“I’d love one of you for that, my Kitten.”

And there was that beautiful blush the shade of the roses I’d given her.

“Did you bring your camera?”

Goddess, if I wasn’t falling in love before, I sure as hell was now.