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  I rubbed myself harder.

  My other hand moved through my hair, and my lips parted to suck in more air. My hips started to rock like Conway was really moving me. I stopped paying attention to Conway on the armchair and focused on the one moving between my legs. My fantasies with him always focused on the intimacy, the way my body was bent so he could have all of me.

  He had to give me all of his dick every time, to make sure I was completely his. I pictured the darkness in his eyes, the way he clenched his jaw to stop himself from coming deep inside me.

  My fingers moved harder.

  I felt the slickness drip from my cunt. It smeared onto my fingers when I moved harder. My breathing accelerated, and quiet moans escaped my lips. I always came when I pictured him coming, giving me all of his come. “I want your come…”

  Conway inhaled a deep breath from the armchair.

  Then I came, my pussy convulsing just as my hips jerked. My head rolled back and I moaned, my eyes closed as I pictured his dick twitching inside me with release. The climax wasn’t as profound or long as it was when he was really inside me, but it was still incredible.

  Now I didn’t care that he was staring at me at all.

  I expected him to throw his sketchbook aside, drop his pants, and fuck my soaked pussy. Instead, his pencil pressed against the paper, and the sound of scratches filled the air. He worked quickly, his hand moving in exaggerated motions as he constructed the perfect lines.

  I slowly came down from my high, the tenderness between my legs gradually fading. My pussy had tightened during my climax, and now it relaxed once more. The moisture pooled between my legs, but I didn’t get up to clean myself. I lay absolutely still, making sure I didn’t disrupt Conway as he focused on his idea.

  Twenty minutes later, he turned the page. His pencil hit the surface, and he started drawing again, moving on to the second idea in a row.

  I watched him, staring at the focused expression on his face. His eyebrows were furrowed with an intense look. Sometimes his fingers rested against his temple as he kept drawing. Once in a while, he glanced up and stared at me on the couch, like he was remembering the scene he’d just witnessed.

  I knew he was constructing some of his best designs in that moment. I knew he’d just hit the jackpot in creativity. I knew whatever he created would shock the world once more. Because Conway Barsetti was the best at what he did.

  Regardless of the inspiration.

  I fell asleep on the couch, and it wasn’t until I heard the sewing machine that I woke up.

  The table was disorganized all over again, and the sun was long gone because he’d been working for hours.

  I wasn’t even tired when I lay on the couch, but after that intense explosion between my legs, the exhaustion had crept into my veins and I slipped away.

  I sat up and pulled my dress down, realizing how slutty I looked lying there with my legs spread open.

  Conway pulled the fabric out of the sewing machine then grabbed his needle and thread. He made the final touches on the piece, placing the buttons and gems in the fabric.

  I came around the table and looked at his sketchbook. Now it was thick with seven different drawings. I took my time and examined each one, seeing the moodier theme accompanying his work. There was a sense of loss, a sense of loneliness. Most of the drawings were black or made with other dark colors like deep purple or olive green. But each one was beautiful, full of potent sensuality. “I like them.”

  Conway was in his own world, so he didn’t acknowledge what I said.

  I stood there in silence, waiting for him to say something.

  But he didn’t. His eyes were glued to his hands, and even though I inspired him with my provocativeness, he didn’t seem to care.

  I wasn’t offended. I was just glad he was working, making up for all the lost time. He’d spent three months doing nothing, and now he was motivated once again. His knuckles were clenched in excitement, and his eyes were narrowed with focus. I knew he didn’t ignore my words—he just couldn’t hear them.

  I walked down the hallway toward my bedroom where I came face-to-face with Dante.

  “Sapphire, Vanessa is here to see you.”

  “She is?” I hadn’t spoken to her since I left. Her father must have told her I’d returned. She either wanted to yell at me for changing my number and forgetting about her, or she was just happy that I was back.

  “Yes. I’ll whip up some dinner, and you two can talk in the dining room.”

  “Thank you, Dante.”

  Just the way he did with Conway, he gave a slight bow. It was something he didn’t do before, always treating me as a guest of Conway’s rather than a resident. But now that had changed, judging by the sign of respect he just gave me.

  Maybe he liked me, after all. “I’ll be there in a second.” I made a pit stop to the bedroom and changed my panties, since they were still soaked from my self-induced arousal. I changed my dress too, afraid that I smelled like sex. The last thing I wanted Vanessa to think about was me having sex with her brother.

  I made my way downstairs and stepped into the dining room. Vanessa was already there, wearing a long-sleeved red shirt with black skinny jeans. A glass of red wine was in front of her, along with a basket of fresh bread.

  She rose to her feet when she saw me, not cracking a smile. Her eyes narrowed, but it wasn’t clear if it was from anger.

  My eyes drifted to the floor. “I’m sorry…about everything.”

  She came around the table and wrapped her arms around me. “Don’t be sorry. The only one who should be sorry is my brother. He’s a fucking dumbass.”

  I laughed into her shoulder and hugged her back. “My phone didn’t work in New York, so I had to get a new one. I wasn’t ignoring you on purpose.”

  “No, I understand. And I’m sure talking to me would have just made it harder on you.” She pulled away and looked at me with the same softness her mother expressed sometimes. She radiated maternal warmth and didn’t exude a hint of judgment. Vanessa was sassy, but only when someone provoked her. I’d never seen her say a bad thing about anyone unless she was poking fun at her brother.

  We sat across from each other, and Dante served dinner, chicken with rice and vegetables.

  I hadn’t had rice in months. It looked so damn good.

  Vanessa poured me a glass of wine before she ripped off a piece of French bread. “I’m trying not to eat too many carbs, but I can’t pass up Dante’s bread. He’s a genius.”

  “I know.”

  “I asked him to show me his secret, but he refused. He’s lucky Conway won’t fire him. Once I’m making money, I’m gonna buy Dante out from under Conway. I’ll pay him double what my brother pays him.”

  “Good luck. He seems pretty loyal.”

  “People are only loyal until the money is on the table.”

  I was surprised she didn’t immediately question me about the ordeal with Conway. Maybe her father already told her the details, so it seemed pointless to have that discussion. I didn’t want to talk about it anyway, so I guess it didn’t matter.

  “So, how was New York?” she asked. “Was it nice to be home again?”

  Not at all. “I was born and raised there, so I know all the nooks and crannies of that place. The people are interesting, and the opportunities are endless. And the food is great too. But honestly, once I came here, this felt like my home. New York felt like a place I’d been to once before, but it was only temporary. Going back didn’t feel right. The second we pulled up to the house here…it finally felt like I was home.”

  Her eyes softened. “It is your home.”

  “It’s good to be back. And obviously, it’s good to be with Conway. I’ve never been so miserable. I’ve lost my parents and my brother, and the loss still didn’t compare to the heartbreak of losing Conway.”

  “Aww…”

  I picked up my fork and took a bite of my chicken, keeping my gaze down in embarrassment.

  “I’m
glad Conway finally got his shit together. My father told me he wouldn’t commit. I don’t know why men are like that. They don’t want to be with one woman until they realize they’ll lose her if they don’t straighten out.” She rolled her eyes. “I think a real man loves his woman like a psychopath. If love doesn’t make him crazy, then he’s not doing it right.”

  “I think he’s just afraid of how it’ll affect his work.”

  “I think he’s just a pussy.”

  I laughed before I could get the food into my mouth. Only Vanessa had the sass to say things like that.

  “But I’m glad he manned up. My father and I never talk about my romantic life because it’s way too awkward, but he told me I should only be with a man who’s man enough to love me with everything he has—and wear his heart on his sleeve. If he doesn’t say he loves me in a room crowded with people, then I need to find someone better.”

  “Your dad is a wise man.”

  She shrugged. “That’s what they say. He tried to talk some sense into Conway a few times. Carter did too. I guess seeing you with someone else was all he needed to get his shit together…”

  I didn’t want his family to think I actually slept with someone else. I didn’t even date anyone. “The tabloids reported that incorrectly. Nox and I were just friends. I told him I wasn’t ready to see anyone for a while, so he said he would settle for my friendship in the meantime.”

  “Really?” she asked. “Because he was hot. Like, hawt.”

  I chuckled. “He’s pretty easy on the eyes.”

  “So…is he staying in New York?” she asked with hope in her voice.

  “He owns a few gyms there and inherited a nice apartment from his parents, so I don’t think he’s going anywhere.”

  “Damn.”

  “But Mr. Right is out there somewhere, Vanessa. Keep looking.”

  She sighed. “I’ll keep looking, but sometimes I worry I’m too picky. My standards are just too high, and no man can reasonably meet those requirements.”

  “I think it’s good you don’t settle. There’re a lot of jerks out there.”

  “True. Conway included.”

  I chuckled. “No…he’s alright.”

  When midnight rolled around, Conway still hadn’t come to bed.

  He was still working hard in his studio.

  I wondered if I should grab him and drag him to bed, but if he was in the moment, I shouldn’t interrupt him.

  But now that I had him back, I didn’t want to sleep without him beside me. I wanted his smell wrapped around me, his delectable warmth. His deep breathing was my lullaby, and with him beside me every night, I never felt so safe.

  So I lay there in the dark, eyes wide open as I waited for him to join me.

  Thirty minutes later, I heard the door in the other room. He shut it quietly behind him, and then his footsteps sounded on the floor. He was barefoot because he hadn’t changed since he walked into the studio. He was just in his sweatpants. His black silhouette appeared in the bedroom.

  “Had a good session?”

  He pushed his sweatpants and boxers off his body, stripping until he was in nothing but his skin. His expression was hard to see in the darkness, but I imagined he wore an aggressive look. His movements were quick and short, and he yanked the covers back until my legs were revealed.

  He suddenly snatched me by the ankle and yanked me to the edge of the bed. Like a kidnapper grabbing his victim while they slept, he dragged me to the edge then pulled off my panties. He didn’t bother with my shirt and sank between my legs, getting his dick inside me like he’d been hard up for hours instead of minutes.

  He gave one shove, and he was inside me, buried between my legs. “My muse.” He rocked into me hard, fucking me like an animal. All his sweet gentleness was gone, and now he was ferocious. He gripped the back of my neck as he pounded into me, fucking me harder than he ever had. “Mine.”

  My nails latched on to his back, and I buried my face in his neck, letting him do exactly what he wanted. I inspired his pieces, and now he was hard, just thinking about them over the last twelve hours. “Yours.”

  11

  Conway

  “What do you think?”

  Nicole stared at the seven different pieces I’d made, her expression impossible to decipher. She always wore the same look, regardless of the occasion. Even when she was in front of the cameras, she didn’t crack a smile.

  She passed by each mannequin, her fingers resting across her lips.

  I didn’t care about her personal opinion. But she had a talent for choosing what the audience would love. “They’re amazing. I love the switch in mood. Winter is coming. The dark colors are perfect for that. They’ll be an amazing hit for Christmas. I think this is a home run. Not necessarily better than your last line, but different and unique enough. Where did you come up with this?”

  Muse. Watching her touch herself painted perfect fantasies in my mind. I imagined many different scenarios, mostly me catching her in the act, watching because she hadn’t noticed me. It was every man’s fantasy, to walk in on a woman pleasing herself.

  And to find out she was thinking of him.

  Walls had surrounded my brain, and I couldn’t think through the barriers. The depression and misery clouded my ability to think. My sex life was uneventful because I was jerking off to photographs of my ex.

  How could I design a decent piece of clothing?

  But now all those restraints had been removed.

  I could think clearly again.

  “You know how, Nicole.”

  She didn’t look at me. “I’m glad she’s back. I was getting worried.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “But I’m also concerned you’re too dependent on her.”

  “Makes two of us…again.”

  Nicole dropped the subject and made notes on her tablet. “I’ll get these to production and coordinate with the retailers. They’ll want to be as prepared as possible for this line. When did Sapphire return?”

  “A few days ago.”

  Nicole turned to me, her eyebrows hiked nearly off her face. “You did all this in a few days?”

  More like twenty-four hours. “Yeah.”

  “Jesus…she must be some woman.”

  Oh, she was.

  “I’ll take care of all this. Did you have a date in mind for the next show?”

  “No. Whenever you think is best.”

  “Alright.”

  I walked back into my office and found Muse waiting for me. She was flipping through a magazine, her legs bent and pulled toward her body. Her hair was curled that day, and smoky makeup was on her eyes.

  “How’d it go?” She set the magazine off to the side.

  “Nicole liked everything.” I opened a drawer in my desk and pulled out my checkbook. After a quick calculation, I wrote down the amount I owed. “She was shocked I made everything so quickly.”

  “I’m still shocked about it.”

  “Well, when inspiration hits you…”

  I grabbed the check and walked toward her. “There’s something I want to know.”

  “Yes?” She looked up at me, smiling once her eyes met mine.

  I moved into the seat beside her and wrapped my arm around her body. I pulled her close to me, the smell of her hair immediately surrounding me. “What’s your last name? You’ve never told me.”

  “You’ve never asked.”

  I pressed a kiss to her neck. “What is it?”

  “Swanson.”

  “Sapphire Swanson…pretty.”

  “Thanks.”

  I grabbed the check and added her last name to the line. “Your first paycheck.”

  She took it from my hands and eyed the number with disappointment. “I don’t think this is right.”

  “Not high enough?”

  “Too high.” She handed it back to me. “I’m supposed to pay you back for everything.”

  “And you are. I’m taking ten million out every
month.” I handed it back. “So this is yours.”

  “Oh…” She eyed it again, like she’d never seen a big check before. “But what about my apartment?”

  “It’s included. By the way, my guy says he put it on the market. He has a lot of interest already.”

  “Wow, that was fast.”

  “I think you can get more than what you paid, so you might even make a profit from it.”

  “I only lived there for three months, so I’d be surprised.”

  “And the fact that it’s already furnished really helps.”

  “I guess…if people want my old things.”

  “When the Realtor tells them you used to live there, I’m sure they’ll want to keep everything.”

  She folded the check in half. “So I just go down to a bank and deposit this?”

  “Yep.”

  “Maybe I should buy myself a car.”

  “Why?” I demanded.

  “So I can run errands and do things…live my life. What do you mean, why?”

  “I have seven cars in the garage.”

  “But I don’t want to drive one of those. I want something more practical, like an SUV or something.”

  If I had my way, she wouldn’t drive anywhere. If she needed to be somewhere, my guys could escort her there. I wanted her under my surveillance at all times, but I knew that was unrealistic now that she was permanently living with me. She had the same kind of sass like all the other women in my family, so she wouldn’t put up with my protection forever. “I can help you pick one out.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How about we go to the bank now? I’ll give you a ride.”

  “Yeah, that would be great.”

  I got out of the chair then straightened my tie.

  She stood in front of me then rose on her tiptoes to kiss me. “Thanks for everything, Con.”

  “You just inspired my best work. You don’t need to thank me.”

  “But I do,” she whispered. “You’ve given me so much, not just money in my pocket. I live in a beautiful house with a beautiful man. I’m living a fairy tale. My Prince Charming is a shade darker than the ones in the stories, but I think darker is better…”