Girl You Fucked Before (18+)

I Want To Paint You Naked

Vanessa

"Vanessa, what are you doing here?"

I had managed to make it through one whole day of being back in New York City before my obsessive thoughts took control, and I found myself on the other side of Ryan's apartment loft door, begging to make things right between us again.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise but the expression on his face wasn't a frosty one. "Come in," he said, stepping aside and helping me out of my jacket.

I slipped off my gloves and placed them on the wooden countertop before turning to face him. "Ryan, I know you're angry with me but-"

He held up his palm, interrupting me. "Let me go first. I owe you an apology, Vanessa. I was harsher than you deserved. I'm not truly over Sienna's death, and the memory still has the ability to send me into a dark place if I dwell on it for too long."

Blowing out a breath, I perched onto one of the barstools. "Which is why I had no place in writing about something so deeply personal to you. I take full responsibility for my actions and hope that we can remain friend."

I trailed my finger over the grain in the wood as I stared down at the surface before glancing up at him with a sheepish grin. "I miss you."

His soft green eyes twinkled, and he take a seat beside me. "I would really love that. If there is one lesson I learned from Sienna's passing, it's to hold onto the people I care about because I'll never know when they'll be gone."

He grasped my hands in between his as he looked me in the eye. "You're so innocent, Vanessa. I know that you would never mean any harm. Now, let's put the whole thing behind us. I have an art piece I finished over the holidays that I would love for you to see."

I followed him over towards his easel and gasped when I saw my own face peering back at me through swirls of colored oil paints.

"Ryan," I breathed, gently running my fingertips over the texture of the painting. "This is incredible."

Goosebumps pricked my flesh as I stared at the picture in awe. In the scene, I was gazing out at the river, the Brooklyn Bridge silhouetted behind me and a wide grin on my face as wisps of wild locks flew around my face.

I resembled the version of myself that I had always hoped to one day be.

Ryan gazed at the picture tenderly. "When I developed the photographs I took of you from that day, I just knew I had to paint this one. Your spirit was just so free, and your happiness transparent. It genuinely moved me." He glanced up, meeting my eyes. "I would love it if you granted me the honor of painting you again."

My breath caught in my throat and the blood rushed scarlet to my cheeks. His gaze was penetrating as though he saw me for who I truly was. I shivered, recalling how I had so brazenly envisioned those same eyes looking into mine as I pleasured myself.

The intense jolt of heat that simmered from such an innocent and yet, so intimate question was too much for me to bear, and I instantly looked away. But not before slowly nodding.

"Great," Ryan beamed. "Are you available now? I know just the place to bring you to. A spot that I suspect will very much make you feel as though you're back home."

I raised an eyebrow at him, my curiosity piqued. "Grab your jacket," he instructed, gesturing at my coat slung over the back of the sofa. "You're going to love it," he promised.

***

"Where are we?" I marveled at the snow-covered branches and blanket of white that stretched out before me as I glanced around. "I didn't know that Manhattan had any greenery."