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)
I grinned. “Why?”
“She thinks I have been spending too much time on my dissertation and not enough time on life.”
“I agree.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “In the library on a Friday night? Very bad girl.”
She chuckled. “Anyway, my professor placed a flyer for this event on my desk and came up with the assignment to use psychoanalytic theories, such as Freud’s theory of the unconscious and Lacan’s theory of the gaze, to analyze tonight’s artwork.”
I blinked. “How would that help?”
“I assume it will get me to understand how this artwork might be addressing issues of sexuality, power, and desire.” Then, she rolled her eyes. “But, honestly, my professor is trying to get me out of the library and. . .”
“And?”
“Laid. She has been adamant about my needing to get laid.”
Another groan threatened to escape me. “No husband or boyfriend?”
Not that it mattered.
I would get rid of him.
She shook her head. “I’ve been focused on my dissertation.”
“I’ll have to change that.” I extended my hand to hers. “My name is Tristan Russo. What is yours?”
“Tristan Russo?” She opened her mouth in shock. “Like. . .the artist of this collection?”
“Yes. I love your analysis of my work. Your professor would be happy. You mastered the assignment.”
“Oh my God. You really are the artist?” She placed her hand in front of her mouth. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“I like that you didn’t know who I was.”
“Still.” A nervous chuckle left her. “What if I hated it and told you?”
“Then, clearly, I would have set you on fire.”
Those brown eyes sparkled as she laughed. I loved the musical sound leaving those sexy lips. It filled the space around my head, deliciously rippling down my spine and making my cock jerk.
How does she sound when she moans?
It was hard not to keep the hunger out of my voice. “Perhaps, to further complete your professor’s assignment, you should let the artist take you out?”
A spark of need flickered in those eyes.
It was fast, but I caught it.
She cleared her throat. “My name is Nova Williams.”
“That is a beautiful name.”
“Thank you.”
“But, that is not an answer to my requesting a date.”
She smirked. “Was that truly a question? Or was it more of a suggestion?”
“I would say it was a soft demand.”
“Which is interesting because you seem more like a hard demand type of person.”
My voice lowered. “Very hard.”
She swallowed and turned back to the sculpture.
Had she ever been approached by a man like me? Had she ever been pursued? Hunted? Was her heart racing with fear or anticipation? Was she nervous?
She should be.
I continued to watch her.
Nova Williams.
She didn’t look my way as she spoke, “Why did you name your collection Burning Desire?”
My wicked grin deepened. “That’s what I was hoping to achieve within the viewer.”
She turned to face me. Those sexy brown eyes locked onto mine. “And is that what you felt when you created these pieces? A burning desire?”
Already, she was different than the usual women I fucked.
She may not bore me.
I could see the challenge in her eyes, the invitation to reveal my innermost thoughts. And for some reason, I found myself wanting to confess things I’d never said out loud.
But, could she go to the masquerade? Would she be ready for something so. . .hedonistic?
My voice grew husky. “Yes. I would say. . .desire ran through me as I made the sculptures.”
“But. . .not just desire for the sake of desire.” Those brown eyes seemed to cut open my chest and dissect the emotions spinning in my heart. “Was it a desire to push your limits?”
You’re damned right.
My body hummed with the need to be inside her.
Could I fuck Nova right here?
What would she do if I grabbed her arm, guided her to the private bathroom in the back of the gallery, yanked down her pants, tore off her panties, and licked her pussy?
Those thoughts consumed me as I watched her.
My pulse raced with a desperate longing. “There was a desire to push my limits.”
Nova tilted her head to the side. “And?”
“And,” I stepped closer, towering over her. Only a few inches ran between us. “There was also a desire to explore the darkness that lies within us all. To find pleasure in pain, and pain in pleasure.”
Heat radiated off her body.
This sensual, electric tension rose between us.
“Pain and pleasure.” She gazed up at me. “And do you find those things in your creative process?”
“Sometimes.” I licked my lips. “Or, I find pain and pleasure in other ways.”
Her voice was barely a whisper, but the softness of it filled me with hunger. “What. . .other ways?”
“I plan to show you.”
Her breath caught.
Weird movement hit my peripheral view, I looked to the side.
My manager Christian waved at me, trying to get my attention. A man in a suit stood next to him, pointing at one of my sculptures and wildly talking. I could tell by Christian’s excited expression that the man must have been a top buyer ready to purchase that piece.