Page 73 of Suddenly Beck

‘You don’t remember?’ I laugh as I prop my head on my hand, tracing my other hand across his chest lazily as I lean over him.

‘Remember what?’

‘You wanted me to paint you last night,’ I remind him in amusement. ‘You were very insistent.’

‘I was?’ He frowns, trying to remember. His gaze sweeps the room, and he sees the easel set up, and on it is a large canvas facing away from us, and the table beside it is littered with brushes and oil paints.

‘It’s no good.’ He decides as I shift off him, and he swings his legs over the side of the sofa. ‘I have to look.’ He grabs the sweatpants off the floor and pulls them on with me ogling his perfectly rounded arse shamelessly.

He pads across the floor and rounds the easel, and the look on his face is priceless. His eyes widen and his mouth falls open. He brings his hands to his face, pressing his fingers either side of the bridge of his nose, steepling his hands across his nose and mouth in the way I’ve learned he does when he’s embarrassed.

‘Oh my god.’ His words muffled by his hands.

I roll off the sofa, wrapping the throw around my naked body as I cross the floor and stand behind him, tucking the throw around us both and nestling my chin into the curve where his neck meets his shoulder.

‘I think I’ve captured your best features, what do you think?’

‘What do I think? What do I think?’ His voice rises incredulously. ‘Oh my god, paint some bloody clothes on me, you utter twat.’

I chuckle deeply as I stare down at my handiwork.

I recreated the scene from Titanic with Nat laying saucily reclined on the sofa, his beautiful eyes filled with mischief. He’s coiling one hand demurely by his cheek, and the other is gripping a bottle of Jack Daniels. Round his neck is the deep blue Heart of the Ocean necklace from the film, and he is completely, totally, and gloriously naked… and sporting a giant erection.

‘Oh, for the love of god,’ he groans covering his face again. ‘Paint a fig leaf on me, or at the very least a smiley face emoji.’

‘Honey,’ I rumble against his neck in amusement. ‘There isn’t a fig leaf in the world big enough to cover that monster.’

‘Well, as flattering as that may be, you can’t leave me like that…. Oh my god! What if your mum sees it?’ He blushes bright red.

‘That’s not going to happen.’ I pull his hands from his face and turn him in my arms so he’s looking at me. ‘I’m the only one who comes in here, well, and you too.’ I wiggle my eyebrows, and he lets out an involuntary laugh.

‘Stop it.’ He shakes his head. ‘It’s too damn early for double entendrés, and my head is killing me.’

I brush my lips against his. ‘Would it make you feel better if I painted a censored sticker on it.’

‘Yes.’ He pouts sulkily, and I kiss his lips again, unable to disguise how much he delights me.

‘You hanging, baby?’ I murmur, pushing his hair back tenderly from his face.

‘So bad.’ He sighs. ‘Why aren’t you hungover? It’s not fair. It feels like there’s an entire hundred-piece orchestra warming up in my brain, and every one of their instruments is out of tune.’

‘Honestly?’ I reply. ‘I think I’m still a bit drunk, and it’ll probably hit me later when I sober up.’

He groans again as he tucks his face into my neck. ‘My head hurts,’ he mutters. ‘Whose idea was it to get drunk?’

‘Yours,’ I remind him, rubbing his back. ‘Why don’t you go take a shower, and I’ll get you some painkillers.’

‘Are you going to join me in the shower?’ he asks hopefully.

‘Of course.’ I smile.

I watch as he heads out of the studio, feeling a warm sensation in my belly. It’s contentment I realise as I sling the throw back on the sofa and pick up my jeans, sliding them on. I head into the kitchen, closing the door to the studio behind me so Ursula doesn’t get in. Lately, she’s taken to eating the clay, and then ends up throwing it up in the most inconvenient places for me to have to clean.

I’m just reaching for the painkillers in the cupboard when Ursula trots into the room and stretches with a loud yawn.

‘Hey, girl,’ I mutter affectionately, stroking her ears the way she likes. ‘You hungry?’

Given the fact that she’s dragging her food bowl across the floor toward me, I’m going to take that as a yes. I refill her water bowl and feed her hurriedly, knowing that Nat is upstairs all naked and wet, and soapy.