The Muse's Undoing

I grin. “A guy can dream. I claim artistic license.”

“Well, I’m not sure it wouldn’t,” he says. Meaning he could come just from being tied up with me staring at him intently.

“I sort of imagine you fighting it,” I say.

“I don’t know why you would. I think you saw how much fight I have in me last night.”

I shake my head at that. “You were perfect. But in terms of this, maybe we put it to the test sometime.”

“Maybe we do it right now,” he says.

“Does my horny art turn you on, princess?”

He answers with a low, rumbling, “Yes.”

“I think you might be giving me too much credit. If I had you in a chair like that, I don’t think there’s any way I could keep my hands off you long enough to paint a picture.”

“This has been a long conversation,” he says.

“You miss me?”

“I always miss you when you’re not right here.”

I move to my knees and put my hands on his thighs. He lowers his face to mine and caresses my cheek.

“We don’t have to have sex again if it’s too much.”

“We do, or I’ll think I fucked something up,” he says in the tone of an admission.

I run my hands up his legs and squeeze. “Better?”

“Not yet. I didn’t know you were into tying people up.”

“I’ve never tried it,” I tell him honestly. “I’m not very patient. Or good with knots.”

“It’s a hot picture though.”

“I thought so. But you came out here all dressed like you’re trying to leave.”

“I didn’t know what you’d want.”

“I want you. What do you want, Fischer?”

“You,” he whispers. “Wanting me.”

“But you have that.”

“Prove it.”

29

FISCHER

Idon’t know what it says about me that what I saw in that picture opened up a Pandora’s box of desire inside me that I didn’t know existed. I’ve never seen myself as passive or submissive. In my career, I’ve been ambitious and bold. Raging against whatever fear or insecurity that might have stopped me. I have a constant need to prove myself.

With Matthew, I feel almost hopelessly outmatched. He has lube in his shower. Silicone-based, which proves he knows his lubes. His bathroom trash can was all tissues and used condoms. While he rarely speaks explicitly about it, I know he gets laid a lot. He’s one of the sexiest men I’ve ever come in contact with, and while there was a glimmer of all his potential when he was in his early twenties, it’s fully developed now.

He may not be everyone’s type, but he exudes sex appeal. It’s in the way he moves. His eye contact. The gestures he makes drawing attention to certain parts of his body—mouth, neck, chest, even his hands. It’s in the way he uses his voice, the words he chooses. I’ve never been totally blind to it; I only never assumed any of it was meant for me. It puts me on the worst edge.