After the ceremony, I had sat in my room at my easel attempting to release my revulsion of life’s cruelty. Only the amount of water I kept adding to the paint wasn’t enough. The pigment didn’t bleed with the same ruthlessness as it did within me. When the thunder sounded from outside my window, I’d grabbed my easel, brush, and paints, and fled to the backyard to drown in the freak thunderstorm.
“I needed more water.” My voice came out in a whisper.
Wes’ cool touch melted into my warm skin again. My breath shuddered with the sensitivity of the place he grazed just inside my hipbone. “You were so beautiful that night.” His fingers moved in a patting rhythm back toward my side. “Your shirt was so soaked that it clung to you. Especially this spot right here.” His entire hand replaced his fingers in one smooth motion. With my hip cradled in his hand, his fingers curled into me. I responsively arched into his touch.
“I was a mess,” I breathed out with obvious panting. So freakin’ obvious.
“You were so fuckin’ sexy. With paint smeared up here.” Wes touched me under my shoulder and ran a thick bead of paint up my shoulder blade to the base of my neck. My head fell to the side allowing his caress.
“And your hair was stuck across your face.” Wes’ hand moved up my neck until my jaw was cradled in it. I turned my head to look into his eyes. I saw the heat in them fall beneath his eyelids when they closed.
“You wanted me?” I whispered.
“Fuck, I’ve always wanted you, Capri.” With his confession, my eyes closed tightly, relishing his words.
Wes fell silent, and I didn’t talk either. Instead, I breathed in, inhaling his closeness and absorbing all of him. With my eyes still closed, I felt the tip of Wes’ nose brush against my own. The movement was so soft, yet so intimate.
“You’re so wrong. Nothing about you is blank. You’re the most vivid woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” The whisper of his words tickled across my lips and then swirled away. “Come with me,” Wes said grabbing my hand and pulling me limply behind him.
Wes flicked on the lights and pulled me into the middle of the dance studio. He positioned me directly in front of him facing the mirror.
“She’s beautiful,” I told Wes gently touching the image he’d painted across the right side of my body. The mermaid’s tail was painted in soft swirls of gray. Her face was a mixture of black and white, smeared gracefully together. Her black hair was splayed around her body and highlighted in white, giving it a halo effect.
“She is,” Wes said, but he wasn’t looking at the mermaid. He was looking at me. “She’s only black and white, yet nothing about this mermaid is plain or blank. She’s stunning.” Wes’ hand met mine where it was still tracing along the edges of the painting. His finger touched the tip of mine and followed my movement. “She’s soft, and she’s gentle. She’s illuminated, and she’s mysterious. She’s understated, yet each unique piece of her is enchanting.” Wes’ finger touched the corner of my hip and turned me around.
“She’s me?” I asked through more of a breath than my voice.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Wes said and dropped his forehead to mine. There was something in the air between us then. It was so tense I could feel it stretching, pulling, and tightening. Then, it broke.
Wes’ lips smashed against mine, and I reached up to fist his shirt in my hands. His hands gripped my hips and his fingers dug into my sides. Our lips and our tongues clashed and mixed, but nothing about this kiss was frantic. It was slow and deep, reaching farther into me than any kiss had before.
I slid my hands up his chest, neck, and ran my hands through his hair. Wes’ hands loosened their grip and wrapped around my lower back pulling me into every solid inch of him. I was so wrapped up in this kiss that I didn’t notice I was moving backward until Wes had me smashed up against the mirrored wall.
He slid my feet apart with his own and pressed himself between my legs. I released his mouth to inhale sharply at the contact. He didn’t miss a beat, continuing to lick, suck, and, oh God, bite my neck. My forehead fell onto his shoulder in a quiet moan that I couldn’t have contained if I tried. “Wes,” I whispered, but I was not even sure why.
His hands left my waist and grabbed my hands, bringing them above my head. He pinned them against the mirror and pulled back from my neck to look into my eyes. “You’re not missing something, baby. You’re everything,” he said, and his lips were back on mine.
He loosened his grip on my hands and brought them back down my side pressing his tongue into me with the rhythm of his hips. The fire of pressure where he stood between my thighs was building. I reached my arms up and wrapped them around his neck. I needed more. I had to have more of him.
I pulled my mouth from his. “Wes, please,” I whispered again, but this time I knew exactly what I was asking for.
“Tell me what you want.” His spoke softly into my neck.
“You.”
“What do you want from me, C?” Wes asked again nibbling into the base of my neck. I leaned into him, and then forced my hand to his cheek and moved him off me. I held his cheek in my hand.
“You,” I repeated.
“Me?” Wes asked, and his fingers dug themselves into my hip again. I nodded. He inhaled deeply and took a slow step away. “Me.” He nodded then turned his back to me.
The coolness of the mirror started to seep into my skin between my steadying breaths. I fought the urge to speak again, but ignored it, letting my words rest with Wes. Praying they would stick.
I watched as his head fell, and his hands raked through his messed hair then he looked over his shoulder at me, and his eyes apologized. “I’ve gotta go.” I blinked my own eyes, silently willing him to stay. He walked away.
I stood against the cold mirror watching the empty doorframe Wes had passed through for what felt like hours but was truthfully only minutes. Surely he’d come back. What the crap had just happened? I kicked off the mirror and went back into the gym in search of my shirt.
Telling Wes about me left me too open. Wrapped up in the moment of released insecurities and built-up want, I likely asked for more from him than he wanted to give. I wouldn’t regret it, though. I held it in for too long, and with the steady swirl of push and pull we’d begun to play, it was time he knew that I wanted all of him.
Before slipping my shirt back over my head, I stopped and ran my hand across the smear of gray where the mermaid once was. Wes had tried so hard to show me that I was more, that I was something. Then he left me with this. Why couldn’t he let himself be something to me, too?
I walked through the quiet youth center, making sure to lock all the doors and turn off all the lights. It was amazing how lonely this place felt without Wes in it. I wanted to be mad at him for the way he left, but something inside of me told me to give him some time, that I had pushed too hard. Then, when I got to the front door, I saw the unmistakable set of headlights in the parking lot. I smiled sadly. He didn’t leave.
Locking the door, I went to my own car, tossed my purse onto the passenger seat, and slipped in. All the while two bright headlights watched over me. As I was putting my keys into the ignition, my phone lit up.
I pulled it from my purse and read the text message.
Wes: Good night. Drive safely please.
I smiled. That was all he had for me tonight, and that was enough.
The rumble of his car engine rattled my crystal ornament against the window. I leaned over my desk and watched Wes park his Chevy in the driveway. I wondered why he was here because we weren’t due to meet at the youth center for another hour. Being an early riser, I woke up just as the sun peeked between my curtains. Being confused and embarrassed about last night, I’d been painting his hands since.