I refused to call this an impasse. I knew he wanted it. I knew he was like any other red-blooded man in his mid-twenties. And he was clearly turned on… How resolute could he actually be?
I leaned back on my arms and pushed my breasts out at an attractive angle. I was rewarded when William fixed his eyes on my chest, then I watched the struggle cross his handsome features. Finally, he closed his eyes and sat back.
“Put your clothes on,” he said.
I ignored his request. “Why don’t you want to—?”
“I never said I didn’t want to.” And judging from the still obvious erection in his jeans, he could hardly deny it.
“Then—”
“But we aren’t going to. Not until I have that promise. And if not, then we won’t.”
I’d change his mind—sooner or later. No man, no matter how stubborn, was that strong. Besides, he didn’t realize the favor I was doing him by not committing. Bad things tended to happen to people who loved me…
I swallowed and shoved that thought aside.
“This isn’t the Middle Ages, Wil. You aren’t responsible or committed to someone just because you sleep with them.”
He tensed. “If you think that’s the reason, then you’ve completely misunderstood me.”
I raised my brow, the challenge in his voice rankling me.
Reaching over, I grabbed my shirt and bra and put them on my lap. After a long moment, he opened his eyes, probably thinking that I’d dressed. When he saw that I hadn’t, he didn’t close his eyes again.
“So even though we could be enjoying ourselves…”
“It’s not about enjoying. It’s about you running away afterward.”
There it was again. It had riled me up when he’d leveled that at me earlier today at the park, and now it just pissed me off.
“You don’t know anything about me or my history, so it’s rude to say I’m running away.”
He shook his head. “People are always calling my honest statements rude. I didn’t mean to be rude to you. But what is it, then, when you have people here who care about you, like Alex and Mia…like me. And you’re just going to go away with no plan to ever come back?”
“I—” How could I explain this? I’d always thought about it as moving on to catch the next rainbow. To learn, to grow as a person. To experience life. To not grow stifled…attached. Because attachments could wound and murder parts of your heart, tearing those parts in the most painful manner possible when those attachments left you forever.
He wouldn’t understand.
He couldn’t understand.
And there was no sense in arguing about it, so I did what I was best at. I changed the subject.
Stretching out in a pose, I pushed out my naked chest. “Wil…I want you to draw me. Like one of your French girls.”
His gaze slid down my body, warming the parts of me that it touched. “I have already.”
I licked my lips and smiled. “Like this?”
He didn’t answer, but heat crept across his face.
I sat up. “You did?”
His face was stoic. “I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me.”
“Pleading the Fifth? Hmm…now I’m going to have to see this. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll put my shirt back on if you show me.”
He thought about that for a long time. “I could just hold out until you want to go home. You have to put your shirt back on for that.”
“That’s true. But until then, I’d be wandering around topless in your house, maybe even brushing up against you, falling against you. You know…being wanton.”
He continued staring at my boobs as if he was mesmerized.
“You want to touch them again, don’t you?”
He stood. “I’ll show you some drawings if you put on your shirt.”
With a small noise of triumph, I did as he asked. But in reality, I would have won either way. Having him grope me again with those big, callused hands certainly wouldn’t be considered a loss by anyone’s definition.
William gave me the succinct version of a grand tour of his large, ranch-style home. As he led me into his art studio, which interestingly enough was in the master suite, he explained that not only was it the largest bedroom in the house, but the lighting was the best there. He’d even installed an industrial-sized sink and drying rack in the attached bathroom so he could wash his supplies.
The room was equipped to the nines with special tools and items I didn’t even recognize. The floor was polished concrete, and there was special diffused lighting with filters and shades at the ready to adjust the lighting. There were also blackout curtains that could be drawn on all the windows. It was a lovely room and would have made a wonderful bedroom, but as an art studio, it was amazing.