But he showed that in abundance on the other wall facing the window. He’d painted—or I assumed he’d painted—an abstract of the New York City skyline, complete with ghostly images of the Twin Towers that had collapsed years ago. A soft cloud of light swirled above them, seeming to encase them. I sucked in a breath. I had no words. It was truly stunning. Roy wouldn’t display his work in his home where others could see it, but here, in his bedroom—his sanctuary—he’d created a masterpiece.

A small door led to an attached bathroom with a clawed tub and separate shower. The bathroom seemed small, until I remembered that this wasn’t the master suite, which would have a decadent bathroom.

Another door housed what I assumed was a closet. I fought the urge to open it. I was already invading his privacy.

No. Just change, Charlie, and get out of here, back to Roy.

I shed my work clothes but left my bra and panties on. Then I wrapped the luxurious robe around me, my nipples hard against the lace of my bra. I itched to touch myself, to pinch my nipples and feel the ripple of pleasure it would bring.

I closed my eyes and imagined Roy’s firm lips encircling one, his fingers tugging at the other. I squirmed against the tickle between my legs.

He just wants to paint you, Charlie. You’re getting overeager.

Of course, he also asked you to dinner…

I stopped the jabbering in my brain, adjusted the band holding my ponytail—half the hair had come out of it. What must I have looked like when I showed up at his door?—and walked back to the studio. The door was still open, so I walked in casually. At least I hoped I looked casual. Inside, my heart was beating a mile a minute.

Roy had his head bent over a palette, mixing paint.

I cleared my throat in what I hoped was a ladylike manner.

He looked up and studied me. No smile, but he regarded me intently.

“Can you take your hair down?” he asked.

“Yeah. Sure.” I pulled the scrunchie and then shook my head to let the hair fall sort of into place. “Let me go brush it out.”

“No. Don’t. It’s perfect just the way it is.”

“It’s got to be a mess.”

“It is. I like it. It goes great with that faraway sparkle in your eyes. Just what I’m going for.”

Faraway sparkle? Horny sparkle was more like it. I knew well what my hair looked like after I took it out of a ponytail.

A mess.

A big mess.

Hardly what went with any kind of sparkle.

“Really, it will look better if I just brush it out.”

“I won’t hear of it. Come here and sit on this stool.” He gestured. “I’ll need to adjust the lighting.”