From Bully To Beloved

CAL

To my delight, Sera is home already, lounging on the couch as she sketches. She’s wearing earbuds, so she doesn’t hear me right away. I take a moment to study her. She’s wearing a longer blue flowery skirt and a large fuzzy sweater. Nothing really sexy about the clothes on their own, and yet she looks more beautiful than ever. All she’s doing is casually drawing, lose strands of hair in her concentrating face.

She must feel me watching her because she suddenly looks up and jumps. “Goddammit, Cal! You scared me half to death,” she snaps and removes her earbuds. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Half an hour.” I cross the room to her, enjoying her facial expression. “I’m kidding. I just got back. I thought you were working a double today?”This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

“Didn’t need to,” Sera says. “One of the new girls was able to take over the shift. I think Marie feels bad for all the shifts I’ve been covering.”

“Good, she should.”

“Says the man who’s busy from morning to night with his opening.”

“Yes, that’s right,” I admit. “But as soon as the shop is up and running, I’ll take time off.”

Sera moves her legs so I can sit next to her. We’ve been much more comfortable with each other since we started having sex.

She leans into my touch with a soft smile. “I keep thinking about what Kelly suggested. I know I don’t have the time, but I also need to get back into doing more than just sketching. I need to stretch my art muscles again.”

“I’ve got just the thing.”

I get to my feet immediately, and with one swoop from behind my neck, pull my shirt off. I toss it onto the couch.

Sera’s eyebrows shoot up. “I said stretch myartmuscles. Sex doesn’t exactly do that.”

“I know what you said.” I unbutton my jeans and pull them down over my dick before I place a hand on the back of my head and strike a masculine pose. “Draw me.”

Sera snorts, but there’s a spark in her eyes I can’t overlook. Maybe because of my nakedness, maybe because of my offer.

“What, just like this?” she asks, motioning to me standing there with my jeans and boxers around my ankles.

“Sure.”

“I don’t know,” she says, though her lips are twitching like she’s trying not to smile. “I’ve drawn people I’ve been involved with before-and it doesn’t end well.”

“I’m not your asshole ex. First, you know I support your art and want you to succeed. Second, I have a bigger dick, and bigger balls. Clearly. Third, what better way to get attention than by showcasing this extraordinary example of masculinity?” I gesture to myself, hoicking a thumb at all mydeliciousmanhood, and raise and lower my eyebrows.

“Fucking delicious, right?” I tease.

Sera studies me for a second, unable to stop herself from grinning. The next thing she says has me happy along with her.

“Get to the bedroom,” she says in a low voice. “Take off all your clothes. I’ll get my stuff.”

She doesn’t need to tell me twice.

I step out of my clothes, hop out of my socks, foregoing picking them up in favor of getting to the bedroom (fuck me). Before lying on the bed, I do several quick push-ups-you know blood flow and all-then stretch out on the mattress as if it’s nothing, waiting. I nudge my dick into a better position. And re-nudge it to an even better one. When Sera comes in, she’s carrying the wooden easel I gifted her and a big blank canvas, plus charcoal sticks and pencils, a kneaded eraser (a soft, moldable, gum-like eraser, as she recently explained to me), and a stumping tool (they are used to blend, smear or smudge). It makes me happy that she’s using the easel, and has even started treating herself to more art supplies.

The girl means business.