Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 75195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
The sketchbook’s cover was crafted from rich, supple leather, dyed a deep, earthy brown. The texture was smooth. Embossed on the cover was an intricate design featuring the four elements—Earth, Air, Fire, and Water—each represented by distinct symbols.
“Amazing.” He handed me the gift bag, put his attention back on the sketchbook’s cover, and ran his fingers along the embossed elements. “Where did you find this?”
“At an art supply store near my apartment.”
“It must have been a really nice store. This is incredible.” He opened the sketchbook, spotted the quote I had written on the inside, and read it out loud, “Art, in its boundless expression, serves as a salve for the soul, transmuting the chaos of madness into a harmonious symphony of self-discovery and healing.”
My nerves flared. I hadn’t intended on him seeing that until after I had left.
“That is beautiful, Nova.” Tristan put his view back on me. “Thank you. I’ve never. . .”
I widened my eyes. “What?”
“I do not believe any woman has given me something so thoughtful and. . .directly related to my true passion.”
“I’m just glad that you like it. I was sure that you already had tons of sketchbooks—”
“Not any that are empty.”
I grinned and held the bag out. “Also, your tie is in here.”
He quirked his brows. “You’re giving me my tie back, Nova?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember the purpose that tie was supposed to serve?”
“I do.”
“And?” He licked his lips.
“Mission accomplished.”
He grabbed the bag like it held the secret to immortality within it. Quickly, he pulled out the tie, brought it to his nose, and deeply inhaled the fabric.
I parted my lips.
“Fuck, Nova.” He breathed in again. “I can smell your pussy all over this.”
My body heated.
As he moved the tie from his nose, desire blazed in his eyes. “How did the silk feel on your pussy?”
“Umm.” I swallowed. “Very good.”
“I’m very jealous of this tie.”
“Don’t be. You’ll get a chance to touch her too.”
“Is that right?”
I shivered. “Yes.”
“Then, let us begin our date.”
“I’m excited.”
He pressed his lips together and held out his hand.
I took it without hesitation.
His fingers intertwined with mine, and a gentle warmth spread through my body.
Together, we walked off toward a red door.
This is going to be an amazing day.
Still, I remained nervous. Nothing about Tristan was typical or even predictable. For all I knew, there were tons of naked people in his home engaged in an orgy.
As we continued to the red door, I looked at him. “What are we going to do today?”
A wicked smirk spread across his face. “Today?”
“Yes, Tristan.”
“Well. . .” He stopped us at the red door. “Today, we push past your boundaries.”
“What boundaries do you think I have?”
“That’s what I will be figuring out today.”
Chapter Twenty
Tour of a Dark Soul
To my shock, the red door led to an elevator.
Still holding my hand, Tristan guided me onto a private elevator. “I have to say, I absolutely love the sketchbook you gave me, Nova.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“It was a thoughtful gift.”
Whew. He really likes it.
The doors closed, and the elevators’ walls were super shiny. Plus, the floor was so clean and polished that it looked wet. If the elevator were this captivating, I had no doubt his place would be super opulent.
He continues to impress me.
Meanwhile, I made myself focus on the conversation. “So. . .are sketchbooks a part of your process with creating sculptures? Or do you just like to sketch for personal enjoyment?”
“Sketchbooks definitely aid the creative process and help me develop ideas.”
“Oh.” I widened my eyes.
“They are very important.” Tristan gazed down at the bag holding the sketchbook. “Tonight, I will open it up and start brainstorming ideas and concepts for my next collection of sculptures.”
“The drawings help you visualize the form and proportions?”
“And the composition.”
“I never realized how much a sketchbook would be included in your process.”
He looked at me. “No?”
“No.”
“Then, why did you get it for me?”
“As soon as I saw those four elements, my body shivered and your face came to mind.”
“Hmmm.” His gaze grew intense.
My body heated.
Calm down.
I cleared my throat. “So. . .you draw your concepts in the sketchbook and then what?”
He quirked his brows. “You want to know how I create my sculptures?”
“I do, but. . .if it bores you to talk about—”
“My art is never a boring topic. Most just don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why not?”
“Maybe it is because, I usually don’t spend my time with people who are passionate about the art world. They typically just love sports or sex.”
“Why don’t you hang with more art enthusiasts?”
“Because they are usually snobbish and only care about the status and prestige that comes with owning art. They don’t understand the true essence of it. The blood that was spilled to create the piece.”
“I can understand that.”
The elevator doors opened, and we stepped into the penthouse.
So overwhelmed, I paused.