Ache With Me

I flicked through the keys on my chain, looking for the small silver key with the dab of bright blue polish on it. I had far too many keys hanging off the battered heartagram keychain I’d bought when I started college, some of which opened locks I no longer had. I finally dug out the key that would unlock Max’s apartment and opened the door.

The whole apartment smelled like paint fumes and turpentine. I knew he was home, but I also knew whenever he started painting, he was in another world. That is, unless we were on the phone. Right now I could see him facing a large canvas that was streaked with shades of orange and pink and gray. He didn’t turn around as I slipped off my boots and jacket, just kept working. I took a seat on the couch and watched him paint. Sylvester head butted me gently from where he was sitting on the back of the couch. I scratched his ears absentmindedly as I watched Max.

He was playing an album I’d heard before but couldn’t place as he painted. The brush he was using was thick and fluffy, spreading great swaths of color across the canvas. I had a feeling I was looking at the sunset over the bay. It was kind of soothing to watch him work, to see the broad strokes and small dabs he made and the concentration on his face.

Around sunset, when he started to lose the light that he preferred, he set down his palette. He had paint streaked up his forearms and on his forehead. I would be surprised if there wasn’t an orange stripe in his hair. He turned to me, a smile spreading across his face.

“Did you enjoy watching me?” He asked, wiping his hands off on a paper towel.

“Of course I did, you know I love your painting.” I got up off the couch. “You’ve got paint all over yourself though, so let’s clean you up.” I helped him scrub all the paint off himself. He did in fact have a small amount of paint in his hair, although it was pink and not orange as I’d hoped. I could never understand how the man managed to paint such beautiful things and always end up almost covering himself in it.

I hoisted myself up on the counter, watching him towel off his hair. When he straightened back up it fell haphazardly over his face. He blew a chunk of it out of his eyes and let out a frustrated growl when it fell back in place. I couldn’t stifle a giggle and he swung his head to look at me. From what little I could see of his face under the mop of damp hair, he was narrowing his eyes at me.

“Is something funny Lily?” He asked, running his hands up my thighs. I was surprised the denim didn’t catch on fire right then.

“Yes, you’re adorable.” I leaned forward to kiss his nose. Before I could pull away, he had captured my lips with his own, his large hands digging into my flesh. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he lifted me off the counter, carrying me into the living room. He lay me down on the couch gently before climbing on top of me. When it came to kissing him, I could never get enough. He was addictive.

I couldn’t tell you when he’d started unbuttoning my shirt, only that he did it quickly and once it was open, he pushed it off my shoulders so it pooled underneath me. He groaned at the sight of my lace bra, dipping his head to kiss the small valley between my breasts. I pushed him up so I could untangle myself from my blouse, then tugged the worn out tank top he had been wearing off. I ran my hands up his chest, marveling at the way his skin felt under my hands. He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, let alone touched.

That sweet moment ended very quickly when he hooked one of my legs around him to rest on his back. Pinning my wrists down with one hand, he pressed forward until the only thing separating us was a few layers of cloth. I could hardly breathe, let alone move as he ground his hips against me. I struggled to pull my wrists free of his grip, wanting to touch him and hold him while he drove me crazy. I guess he figured out what I was doing because he let go, clutching me closer to him as he kept moving.

Pretty soon we had reached a feverish pace and my hand was inching down his body to get to the button of his jeans. I’d told myself I wasn’t going to sleep with him yet but goddamn it he was grinding on me like we were two teenagers at the prom and I fucking wanted him. I almost didn’t hear the phone ring, I was so focused on the way Max looked and the moans both of us were making.

“It’s my fucking mother.” He groaned when the caller ID started going off. “I’m gonna ignore it.” But the phone kept ringing and the spell had kind of been broken, so he rolled off and picked up the phone. I sat on the couch, desperately wishing the phone hadn’t interrupted us. I’d been so close. I could hear him talking in the kitchen, sounding rather flustered. I tip toed into the bathroom, unable to believe that I was about to do this. I mean, I was twenty five and very in touch with my body. It wasn’t like I hadn’t done this before. It was just that I’d never gotten myself off in a boyfriend’s bathroom while said boyfriend was on the phone with his mother in the next room.

Even with that lovely thought running through my mind, I started wiggling my jeans down my legs, then the matching lace panties I was sure would have killed Max on the spot had he seen them. Sometime after I’d started, I heard footsteps coming toward me.

“Fuck you stole my spot.” I heard him say through the door. He sat down against it, the wood creaking in protest. I clamped down on my lip, trying to keep from making a sound. It was one thing to do this, but another entirely when your boyfriend was sitting and listening to you. I heard a soft groan that didn’t come from me and I flushed red. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who was desperate. I moved from where I’d been sitting on the counter to the floor, leaning against the door.

If I learned anything after this little episode, it’s that I am very quiet compared to Max. I would be surprised if his neighbors hadn’t heard him. I’d finished first and had time to wash my hands and pull my clothes back on in the time it took for him to finish. I waited a few minutes, then opened the door. I could hear the sink running in the kitchen. I figured he had gone over there to clean up. My face was probably fire engine red and I had no idea where my shirt was. I hunted high and low and couldn’t find it. Then I saw a small piece of blue fabric peeking out from under Sylvester and shooed him off, revealing my cat hair covered blouse. I brushed it off as best I could and buttoned it back up, just in time to see Max disappearing into his bedroom. A few minutes later, he exited in a different pair of jeans and a fresh shirt.

“You’re amazing.” Was all he said before he kissed my forehead. “Now come on, all this exercise has made me hungry.” He waited as I stepped into my booties and pulled on my coat, then led me out to his car. We went to a small burger joint near his building for dinner, pelting each other with fries as we ate. Then he drove us back to my loft.

I’d nearly forgotten about earlier until we were climbing into bed.

“Do you want to talk about that?” He asked, rolling onto his side to face me.

“Not really.” I knew I was absolutely red and the smirk on his face confirmed it.

“It’s natural Lily. Obviously you know that.”

“Oh God, can we not?” I covered my face with a pillow, but it didn’t drown his laughter out.

“Babe you’re twenty five and you can’t talk about masturbation?”

“Ugh!” I tossed the pillow off. “Fine, what do you want to talk about?”

“Just that I can’t wait to hear you make that sound under me.” That slow smile spreading across his face made my stomach flutter. “Good night Lily.”

“Good night Max.” I really hoped he couldn’t read minds because mine was so far in the gutter as we drifted off to sleep.