Read I Love My Secret (Nicole's Erotic Romance) for Free Online

mostly is in reds, gold, and burnt sienna. Tiny sparkles of sweat
form in the hidden parts of me as I inspect the lines because the more I look,
the more I am dumbfounded. Is this chaos of frenzied strokes, me ? One time I saw him and my hair was a
shock of tight curls, natural, big and wild. He’d said he liked it that way,
that it suited me more than straightening it. “Don’t try to be like everyone else. You’re different. Be that.” I
listened, and more and more I wore it wild. I’m wearing it that way tonight
even. Probably because I wanted to make him happy, more than anything else.
    This painting - the raw passion of it – it’s
like he’s been missing me as much as I’ve missed him. Maybe my break from him
hurt him as much as it hurt me? I reach out and touch the canvas, feel a drop
of wet paint cool the tip of my finger. I close my eyes and imagine him here,
propelled forward by inspiration, unable to stop until he finished this
portrait of…
    “Nicole.”
    I yank my finger back and my eyes shoot open to
see him standing at the top of the stairs. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
    “I see that.” He strolls to me, the leather jacket
he’s wearing over jeans and black t-shirt, is the only thing clear of smudges
and specks. He takes it off and lays it on the couch, the muscles of his back
pulling his t-shirt tight for an instant. He turns and walks to me. “What do
you think?”
    The spicy scent of him wafts to me, making my body
react. I hold his eyes. “It’s beautiful.”
    His eyes narrow. He comes to stand beside me, to
see what I see. “You think so?” he asks, looking at it with me. It feels more
like a test than a question.
    I ask, “Is it me?”
    He turns to me and like his body is a magnet, mine
turns to him, too, and I touch his face. He reaches up and touches my cheek,
looking at it like it’s the softest, most interesting cheek he’s ever seen. Is
tonight the night? Is that why he painted me…
    He leans in and gives my cheek a kiss that is so
tender, I want to cry. The tip of my nose gets a kiss, too, soft and gentle as
a butterfly. Then my lips feel the pressure of his, and I slide my arms around
his neck as our kiss builds. I press my body into his, needing so much to be
close to him. The pressure impassions him. He kisses me harder, presses his
tongue against mine, licking it sensually. I feel tingles and sensations moving
through my body as we explore each other’s mouths. The feelings build until
we’re feverish. Please ease this ache I
feel every time I see you, Michael. We’re gasping and moaning and I know
now that this is the night. His hands travel around me with a hunger that
matches my own. I’ve waited long enough. We’ve waited long enough. We grind our hips together like two people who haven’t
touched another human being in years, moaning and kissing until he lets out a
growl and releases my mouth, my ass, my body…
    Releases…me.
    My eyes fly open to see him retreating from me,
now more than five feet away and growing. He says over his shoulder, heading
for the stairs, “Not tonight.”
    I let out a sound of aching that I’ve never heard
myself make before, confused and outside of my own body in disbelief! As he
disappears from view and only the sound of his feet departing can be heard, I
run over and yell down, “When?!! For God’s sake, Michael – WHEN?!”
    His voice is huskier than normal, his eyes
troubled and angry as he looks up and says firmly, “Not tonight,” like a
teacher to an impatient student who’s come so far.
    He leaves, the door opening and closing with all
of the weight of everything that lies between us. I yell out, “Why do you do
this!!?” The silence that follows, the questions he’s left behind, the absence
of him… it crushes me and I crumble to the ground.
    “I will not see him again,” I tell myself, aloud.
Breathing heavily, I look up and see the mesmerizing painting of the woman, the
woman who must be me. The