✓ [18+] BACK TO YOU

May Take US,

BACK TO YOU
Written by MischiefMaidenx
COPYRIGHT © 2020 by MischiefMaidenx
All rights reserved.

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S E V E N  Y E A R S  L A T E R
C L I N T O N  H I L L S , N D

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F O R D • P O V

"Fuck."

"What? What is it? I really tried not to move," my muse bites her bottom lip nervously while giving me the side glance with those hazel eyes of hers.

"No, you didn't. I just can't seem to get this curve perfect," I look over the top of my easel at my model, my very naked model at that.

Okay, she's not entirely naked, she has a white bedsheet draped over her body in a strategic way that leaves nothing to the imagination but you get the point. There's absolutely nothing under that sheet. Trust me, I know.

"Well, not to rush the artist here but could you hurry up? My arm's starting to fall asleep," she complains as she continues holding her hair up off her slender neck.

I sigh to myself and drop the paintbrush in the water cup on the tray next to me. When I take my glasses off, I run my hand back through my hair, no doubt getting paint in its curls. I turn my back to my current project and my beautiful model.

As I stare at the rest of my large loft apartment in Clinton Hills, I hear the creak of the wooden stool behind me. I let my eyes wander around my place as I hear the faint padding of footsteps approaching but I don't turn around.

My place, well, our place, is not much different than the place we had in New York City when we lived there for a few years after Lexie quit modeling in Europe. This place has red brick walls and concrete flooring. State of the art kitchen appliances fills the open kitchen with its contemporary feel. The entire space of our apartment is narrow and deep, which thankfully gives us more than enough room for all of our necessities such as a living, dining, and sleep area. There's even enough room to give me my workspace next to the floor to ceiling panel windows along one side. However, unlike our view in New York that looked out towards the city of skyscrapers and lights, this view is of the wide-open spaces of the Great Plains with mountains far off in the distance. The difference in view is astonishing but this one simply means one thing to the both of us, we're home.

Granted for either of us, we could live anywhere in the world and as long as we are next to each other, it's considered home. But there's just something about Clinton Hills that dragged us back here. I like to think it's because this is where it all started.

Our love story.

"I don't see the problem. It looks fine to me, babe."

I smile to myself as I turn around to spot my beautiful girl, my model, my muse, holding up the white sheet to her chest as the rest of it falls around her body like a gown. Her back is bare to me, showing off some of her ass and I lick my lips at the view, fighting off the urge to bend her over right this second.

"It's not perfect. Not how I want it," I murmur, glancing towards the side of her where the half-finished portrait painting is resting.