Finding Kyle(49)

CHAPTER 21




Jane


My eyes flutter open, and I wait for them to get accustomed to the darkened room. I’m wide awake and feel strangely refreshed. I turn my head to look at my clock and note it’s just shy of three AM.

I turn my head back to the right. In the moonlight streaming through my windows, I can see Kyle’s face partially lit. Again, he looks so peaceful and relaxed, despite the harsh angles of his cheekbones. He’s lying on his side, his head inches from mine and his arm resting lax across my naked stomach. We’ve been asleep for several hours.

I don’t move for a moment, instead staring at my ceiling that has become more revealed in the natural ambient moonlight. There’s a rusty ceiling fan that rattles when I turn it on, so I don’t really use it, afraid it might fall on me.

As I lay there, I think about the naked man sleeping beside me.

And the things he did to me tonight with his mouth and his hands and then with his…

My skin tingles at the memory, and an ache of need forms low in my belly. It’s a need for sure, because what Kyle showed me tonight made me realize what I’ve been missing.

He left my house after having a slice of apple pie and making small talk with my mom, carefully avoiding any personal information about himself, much the way he’s done with me. He did this masterfully by diverting my mom with questions about our family and me. After the pie, he made his excuses to leave, saying he had some things to do, not even bothering with the pretense of “fixing” my window. I walked out on the porch with him where he wrapped a hand around the back of my neck and pressed a kiss against my temple, promising he’d get up with me later. I offered him my cell number, but he shook his head, stating he didn’t even own a cell phone. I should have found that odd, but if there’s one person in the world who I could see shunning a cell phone, it would be Kyle.

I spent the afternoon shopping with my mom where she talked incessantly about how handsome Kyle was. Not long after I returned in the early evening, Kyle showed up at my door. Within moments, we were in my bedroom and naked.

While the clothes may have come off fast, he kept the pace of things very slow. As I remember the details of last night, the ache drops from my belly to between my legs. He positioned his face in between my thighs and stayed down there forever. Long enough to have me writhing and moaning and calling out his name. He made low sounds in his throat as his mouth worked me, almost as if he were savoring a fine sip of wine. I came twice, only then did he put a condom on and fuck me.

It was once again fast and rough, and God help me… I loved it like that. His fingers dug deep into my flesh, his hips slammed against mine, and Kyle made animalistic sounds of pleasure with his face buried in my neck. And there’s no describing how it felt when he lifted his head up as he surged in deep one last time, his eyes locked on mine, and said in a rough, low tone one word.

Jane.

A tiny shiver of pleasure skitters up my spine over that memory, and I smile into the moonlit room.

I can tell Kyle is deep asleep by the pace of his breathing, but I feel like I’m ready to take on the world.

Energized.

Filled with spirit and creativity.

There’s only one thing for me to do.

?

I have a bad habit of sticking my tongue out the side of my mouth when I’m concentrating really hard, and while painting is normally something that tends to flow naturally, I’ve been playing with new techniques, so it’s requiring some attention to detail. My art forte is definitely watercolors, but I’ve been playing with mixed media lately. I hope to start working on it with my high school students soon. Tonight specifically, I’m working on a piece I started with a basic drawing done with my graphite pencil, and then filled in with acrylics.

The drawing is simple and slightly abstract. Two cats with elongated necks and triangular heads that make them look slightly alien. I’m painting one in gray and the other in black, and I think it’s turning out nicely. It’s far too modern for my personal tastes, but Miranda loves stuff like this, so it will be a gift to her.

I put a slight dab of white into the iris of one of the cat’s eyes so as to create reflective light. Turning to lay my brush on a side table, I jolt with fright over the figure standing in the doorway of my studio. I immediately recognize Kyle there, actually leaning casually against the doorjamb as he watches me, but my heart is still thundering. I know that has to do with the scare I just had, but it continues on because of how hot he looks in just a pair of jeans hanging low on his lean hips and his muscular and tattooed expanse of abs and chest for me to behold.

“How long have you been standing there?” I say almost breathlessly as I press my fingers to the center of my chest.

“Not long,” he says and pushes off the doorjamb. He walks into the room and looks around. It is mostly filled with finished paintings and a few easels, rows of shelving on one wall to hold my supplies, and a tiny desk against another wall where I do stuff like reconciling my bank account or surfing online on my laptop.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up,” I murmur as I watch him prowl around the edge of the room, taking a moment to pause by the shelves and peruse my paint supplies.

“You didn’t,” is all he says without looking at me. Instead, he picks up a brush, inspects it briefly, and then puts it down. I find this reserved attitude a bit disconcerting. I mean, it’s always sort of awkward that next morning after some amazing and intimate sex, but I wasn’t ready for him to invade my little studio that is sort of like a haven for me.