From Bully To Beloved

CAL

“Mr. Ashton,” Andrew Osborn says in his raspy, booming voice. “I was wondering when I’d be hearing from you.”

“Hello, Mr. Osborn,” I greet him. “Thank you for taking the time to speak to me. It’ll only take a minute.”

“Straight to the point. Tell me-to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

“I wanted to let you know that my dealership is in the final stages of completion and I would like to extend a dinner invitation to you and your wife. That way we can sit down face to face and discuss a couple of ideas I have.”

“Wonderful! I heard through the grapevine you fired William Hunt. I was surprised to hear that, considering how late in the project you are. It’s my understanding that he does good work.”

“He does, but I decided to bring in a new contractor who better suits my needs.”

Osborn tsked, understanding that I wasn’t going to dog the man. “Such a shame and good to know. Now, back to your lovely invitation. We’d very much like to accept.”

“Great. Two days from now, let’s say seven o’clock. I’ll send you the details.”

“Perfect. Charlotte and I will be there. I cannot wait to meet your new bride. We’ll see you then, Ashton.”

I don’t even get a chance to tell him Sera won’t be there before he hangs up.

Shit.

Sera isnotgoing to like this.

Oh, well. She can deal. It’s one dinner.

Iget home sometime in the early afternoon. In a rare instance, Sera is home before me. I’m not expecting this, considering how many hours she’s been working. I’m guessing Marie sent her home since she came in early. I notice her stuff when I walk through the door, putting my boots to the side. I’m not sleeping on that damn couch.

When I enter the living room, there are two things I notice right away.

One, her bra is sitting on the arm of the couch.

And two, her sketchbook is lying next to it.

I hear the sound of the bathtub filling, and I realize that in her rush to take her evening soak, she forgot her bra. Either that, or she didn’t expect me home anytime soon. Or she left it there on purpose.

Either way, I see a kiss in my very near future.

Can’t fucking wait.

I will preface this next sentence by saying that I am not snooping. I’m simply tidying up the living room after her, again-except for the bra, of course, because: evidence-when I realize the sketchbook is partially open. The page I see makes me stop in my tracks.

Grabbing the book, I open it all the way to find anincrediblydetailed drawing of me. Specifically, my naked body.

Like, fully naked.

Dick and all.

On the paper, I’m lying in bed, so she must have drawn it at some point during the night. Oh, this is too fucking good! Is this why she didn’t want to show me her work? Goody-goody Nosy Sera isn’t as prudish as I thought she was. But she’s way, waynosier than I expected.

She has a lot of talent.

The drawing looks exactly like me, and the shading is on point. My face, my shoulders, my abs, my dick, and nuts.

Perfect. Fucking. Perfect. Fucking detailed too. Veins and all.

I flip through the pages, looking at the rest of her work. The way she draws the human body is stunning. She doesn’t embellish (I can tell)-she doesn’t try to make it perfect. She catches all the subtle curves and nuances of the human form.

I continue to scan through the pages. Most of what I see are bits and pieces of a person from when, I assume, she didn’t have a model in front of her. Or did she? Someone’s arm, someone’s torso, a pair of eyes. Wait, are those my eyes? Hard to tell. There seems to be a subtle scar over the eyebrow, which mirrors the one I got when I was a dumb teenager. Not from the night of my first joy ride, but later that week when I’d been forced to help fix the bike and wasn’t watching what I was doing.

I get to the start of the sketchbook, finding full nudes of some dude, which pretty much makes me lose interest. I will say he’s got nothing on me, and the sneering expression on his face tells me right away that he wears turtlenecks and jumps in the pool holding his nose.

“What are youdoing?”

I spin around as Sera stands there in her robe, her wet hair slicked back from her face. Her eyes are as wide as saucers.

“Anything you’d like to tell me?” I ask calmly, opening to the naked drawing of me and showing her.

“Oh, my God. Cal! No,” she shrieks. “Wait! Please!”

She tries to take the book from me, but I hold it out of her grasp. She jumps to no avail. I’m taller and easily stretch out of her reach.

“Cal!”Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g

I make sure to keep it open to the sketch, growling, “I gotta say, you’ve got a lot of talent. Of course, it helps when your subject is as devilishly handsome as I am.”

She stops trying to grab the book. “Okay, look,” she says, still panicked, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “I know this seems creepy. But please, pleaseknow I didn’t mean to walk in on you. I was going to get my uniform, I knocked on the door, twice I might add, and you didnotanswer!”

“So you walked in, saw I was naked, and couldn’t resist drawing me?”

Her face twists.

It’s evident that she’s trying to figure out how to talk her way out of this.

She just groans and buries her face in her hands. I’m not sure if she can’t come up with an excuse or if she’s given up trying. “Yeah, pretty much. To be honest, I wanted to get even with you for burning that drawing of mine when we were kids, but then…things got out of hand.”

“That’ll teach you.” I’m not angry in the least. I’m flattered. I really am. I’ve never been drawn before, and this girl has a shitload of talent. The sketch is dead on, and she even took the time to include my tattoos.

“Hey, I’m not ashamed of my body,” I tell her. “Clearly, you can see that I’ve got it going on.”

Her cheeks are flaming red, and she groans in annoyance. “Oh, please stop talking. I’m having several deja vus and can’t even be mad at you. Seriously. I’ll do anything if you do not tease me about this.” She’s drumming her fingers on her thigh.

Anything?

That’s what she said?

The way she said it strikes a nerve.

Hold on.

It sounds like she’s pleading, almost begging me not to make fun of her. I know it’s in our nature to give each other shit, but the past is the past, and there’s no use revisiting days gone by, let alone waking dead and buried ghosts. I’d never tease her about something she obviously has a passion for. I can tell she’s uncomfortable, and I feel like an asshole. That wasn’t my point. I struck a nerve I didn’t even know existed. I’ve never seen Sera like this. She is a fighter, defiant and rebellious as fuck, the most confrontational woman I’ve ever met, always ready to raise hell.

I must have hit where it hurts.

She let her guard down.

And she let me see.

“Look, I’m teasing about you sneaking around drawing me-not about the drawing itself. The drawing is great. You did an awesome job.”

Her eyes meet mine. “Thanks,” she mutters.

“In fact, it’s more than awesome, Sera.” I pause for a beat. “Hey, hey, everything all right there?”

Her cheeks are still red, but it’s starting to fade. “It’s been a long time since I’ve drawn anyone. So, when I felt inspired, I really wanted to follow through. I’m sorry…I should have asked you first.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” I assure her. “I’m not mad.”

Finally, the tension leaves her body, and her shoulders sag in relief.

That is, until I flip to the beginning of the book and hold up the drawings of the other dude. “Who’s the tool-bag?”

“That’s my ex.” She makes a face, her assertiveness back. “And I love how you can tell he’s a tool-bag just by the drawing. Because he is.”

“Hey, you’re really good. The look on his face says it all. I take it things didn’t end well with him.”

She takes the book from me and closes it before she tosses it onto the couch. “No, it didn’t,” she admits. “He was a jerk. Never really cared or encouraged me. He was furious when I had to work late, and insisted I stopped working at The Diner. Major red flag. Next. Oh, and he used to get jealous if I went to a drawing class and drew other guys. That’s when he offered to pose for me. He was fine if a woman was posing, but God forbid I drew a male model.”

I’m floored when I hear this. “Wow. It’s an art class for crying out loud. It’s not like you’re sneaking into someone’s room and drawing them while they sleep.”

She shakes her head, her lips tugging upward. “Ha-ha, very funny.”

I grin. “You’re never going to live this down.”

“I’m aware.” She smacks my arm playfully. “Anyway, yes, he was the most insecure guy I’ve ever met. I ended things after my first art show.”

“Let me guess-he didn’t attend?”

“Worse. Hedidattend, and when I got a really bad review, he agreed with it.”

“He agreed? What the hell?” What a poor excuse for a man.

“Yeah. My drawings just aren’t worth a second look, he said. And I have to accept that.”

“You don’t have to accept shit. Look, I don’t know much about art, but I know talent when I see it. You have real talent, Sera. I mean it.”

Something beautiful flickers in the depths of her eyes. She smiles softly, and it’s the prettiest damn smile I’ve ever seen. “Thanks, Cal,” she says.

For a few seconds we just stand there, and I get lost in her beauty, in a captivating soul she’s taken great care to hide from me.

Something inside my chest pulls.

“Now that that’s settled,” I say, collecting myself, “we have something else that needs to be addressed.”

The smile leaves her face as quickly as it appeared. “What are you talking about?” She frowns.

Smirking, I gesture to her bra just behind me. “I believe you owe me a kiss.”

Her eyes go wide, and she points at me. “No, thatdoesn’tcount.”

“What do you mean that doesn’t count?”

“Ijusttook it off a few minutes ago.”

“And?” I hold up her bra, dangling it from my index finger.

“And I…”

“Andyou’re trying to come up with excuses, so you don’t lose this bet.” I laugh, flicking the bra at her.

She catches it in a huff.

“Pucker up, wifey,” I tell her.

It’s the only warning she gets.

Before she can move, I slide my arm around her waist and tug her forward in a dominant pull. Her body collides with mine. The bra drops from her hand instantly. My arm reaches around her back, drawing her closer, feeling her tits under that white robe pressing deliciously against my chest. I slide the other hand into her wet hair and pull her into a kiss.

Her breathing stutters.

If I thought her body felt good against mine before, this is a whole new level of heat. I meet warm, soft lips. The most tender I’ve ever felt. Her mouth is pliable against mine, even when her body is stiff as a board. Seriously, what’s up with that? She’s not moving, and her body is filled with tension-but she’s not pushing me away.

“Sera, you can do better than that,” I murmur softly against her lips, cradling her head, my mouth back on hers, and I deepen the kiss. My tongue darts into her mouth and swipes along hers.

She doesn’t move her tongue. At all.

It’s like she’s going out of her way to not enjoy this.

I whisper-growl deeply, “Come on, Sera,” my voice hoarse and barely there. My top teeth roll her bottom lip teasingly while my hands cradle her face. My thumbs lightly trace over her cheekbones.

I can feel her trembling beneath my touch.

“Kiss me back, baby,” I breathe, my lips teasing hers.

It’s then that she moves. Her hands slide up my arms to grasp my biceps, and she leans into the kiss, fully parting her lips for me.

Yes. That’s more like it. “That’s my good girl,” I rumble, my voice nearly a growl.

Suddenly, she loops one arm around my neck and plunges her tongue into my mouth. The switch takes me by surprise in the best way. I almost stumble back.

Ahh, this feels nice. Holy fucking shit.

My body is on fire, and my dick presses against my jeans like the persistent bastard he is.

After ten minutes of shameless kissing-ten minutes that are over way too fast-and a lifetime of me doing my fucking very best to not open her robe and unleash hell on her naked body, she draws away with a gasp, her big brown eyes dark like chocolate.

Her hands come up to rest against my chest.

I take them in mine, holding her close to keep her from running away.

A clever retort is on my tongue, all ready to go-or is it a fucking plea to keep on going?-but before I can say anything, her tender lips find mine and she kisses me again, and every thought I ever had goes out the window.

Except the one that begs me to untie her damn robe.

I want to rip it right off, push my hands underneath the fabric and grab the supple flesh I’ve only had glimpses of.