doll. Painted doll … her mind quickly supplied. When she was posed so that he was pleased, he went back to his desk.
Dani saw him grab his pencil and saw him scratching at his own pad again. Was he sketching her just like the class? It had never occurred to her that Chris would be drawing her. She’d just expected strangers, not him. But did it matter? Her mind prattled on, with nothing to do besides stand there and think in circles. Did it matter if he was sketching her when she was standing there buck naked for everyone to see?
A bizarre thought popped into her head. What if these people had taken pictures surreptitiously of her with their phones? Did she really want her naked form floating around on the internet? For a few hundred dollars a week?
Panic flared in her chest and she focused on breathing. Chris wouldn’t let that happen. He’d never in a million years put her in that position. But what if he didn’t know?
She felt her fingers twitching of their own accord though her limbs felt numb from her blossoming anxiety.
She thought at any moment she’d just start screaming. Screaming like a lunatic. Wailing about phones and perverts and permission. She nearly wept with relief when Chris stood and said, ‘I’ll be right back. I need to walk Dani out. Let’s give her a hand, people. It takes a brave person to stand in front of a bunch of strangers and bare it all.’
The whole class started to clap and she thought she might actually drop dead right there from embarrassment. Never had she wanted to see a floor crack open and swallow her up the way she did at that moment. Hurrying, Dani pulled her robe on and grabbed her bags. She glanced back and found the silver fox watching her.
What would he think if he knew she’d named him that in her head? He smiled at her and she found herself smiling back. He had a nice smile. Something told her he might not mind her chosen moniker at all.
Chris followed her out in the hall and barely got his mouth open to speak before she grabbed his arm, her panic flaring again, and growled, ‘Phones!’
‘Phones?’ He put a steadying hand on her shoulder and her worry was great enough to allow her to ignore his familiar touch, even though the only thing separating that hand and her skin was a robe so thin it was nearly transparent.
‘Their. Phones.’ She shook her head, knowing she was making very little sense, but she couldn’t seem to get a full thought out.
His laughter was so unexpected she had the irrational urge to smack him. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, catching the look and backing up a step. He raised his hands like he was under arrest. ‘I’m sorry. Jesus, I forgot to tell you that part. Is that why you looked like that towards the end?’
‘Just your average raging panic attack,’ she said, her mouth a tight line. So tight and tense it made her jaw ache. ‘Ya know. Irrational fear, the urge to scream and scream and scream … no biggie.’ She crossed her arms under her breasts because it made her feel secure – less naked – more powerful.
He shook his head and put his arm around her. Which was no big deal, she reminded herself. He’d done it all the time when they were young and bumming around. ‘Sorry, Dani. Jesus. I’m an ass. I take their phones at the beginning of class. I put them in a basket and lock it in the supply closet. Then I pay attention during class. Just to make sure. I get it. I would be worried too if the absent-minded professor had forgotten to tell me that little tidbit.’
She exhaled slowly. Then inhaled deeply and did it again. ‘OK, my heart has stopped racing now.’
He gave her a squeeze and she hugged him back briefly. ‘You’ll be here tomorrow for my other class, right?’
‘I will.’
‘You’re doing great. You’re beautiful.’
‘It’s still weird,’ she said, looking at her bare feet, trying to ignore the ‘beautiful’ comment. A chill rushed up her spine and she shivered.
‘Of course it is. It would be weird if you didn’t think it was weird.’ He caught the shiver. ‘And it’s cold in here. Go get dressed. I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?’ He kissed her forehead briefly. No big deal, she reminded herself.
‘I’ll be here.’
He paused on his way to the door. ‘You sure you’re OK?’
‘I just didn’t sleep well. I’m fine.’
‘I hear you,’ Chris said. ‘I had weird dreams all night.’
You and me both, buddy.
‘And no rest for the wicked tonight.’ He checked his watch while she tried not to admire the thickness of his forearm or how the muscles flexed just beneath the skin.
‘What do you mean?’ She rubbed her feet together. Wanting so badly to get dressed but not wanting to walk away from him just yet.
‘After this I have a date. I don’t know what I was thinking. When class is over I’m usually pretty pooped. But what’s a single guy to do, right?’
‘Right,’ she sighed. ‘See you tomorrow.’
She hurried to the bathroom, put her clothes back on and then returned to the classroom and draped the robe across the doorknob. No need to interrupt him. He had to wrap class up so he could go on his date.
They were back. She sat there trembling. Utterly naked. A feeling Dani was getting used to. Only this time Kevin Buck stood to her left and Christopher stood to her right. Buck holding a paintbrush still dotted with cobalt blue. Chris’s stubbornly showing streaks of thick crimson. Her breath stuttered when the silver fox, whose name she didn’t know, came forward brandishing his own thick brush. A medium-sized red sable brush with absolutely no paint on it.
‘You’re both doing it wrong,’ he said with confidence.
His voice was rich and deep and seemed to snake around her body, stroking her skin until goosebumps stood up, rigid little peaks of anticipation on her skin.
He stepped between the younger men and with his knee knocked her legs wider. What was a pleasant warmth between her thighs became a damp river.
‘She doesn’t need to be painted. Can’t you see that?’ His smile was nothing more than a slight curl of his upper lip. But the amusement it conveyed met his eyes because they shone with humour. ‘She’s perfect. None of this adornment is necessary.’
He took his bare paintbrush and stroked it across her forehead. Dani had never realised that her forehead was so sensitive. Or that it could make the heat and wetness between her thighs turn to a steady drumbeat of arousal.
The red sable tip tickled across the jut of her cheekbones, swept across her lips, arched down her jawline and then slithered down her neck. When he reached her collarbone he slowed the drag of the tip along her skin.
Her nipples spiked, hard and tender. She wondered, randomly, if she was cracking the paint the other two had applied. Realised she didn’t care. A warmth spread along her skin everywhere his naked
