Friday, December 7, 2012


~Chapter 90~

“You’re sure you’re up to this, Edward? We can always catch the next session.”

“Thanks, but no, let’s not put it off. We’ve been looking forward to this.”

What he means is that I’ve been looking forward to this and he’s been looking forward to humoring me, which works just as well for us. The West Side YMCA is a short subway ride from the apartment, and though crowded, underground is a much more efficient venue for travel this time of the evening. I tunnel my way toward the front of the car and reach my arm into the throng of people, happily locating a sliver of pole and wrapping my gloved fingers possessively around the metal. Edward steps in snug to my back and reaches easily overhead for the leather strap. He wraps his free arm around my waist and tucks me firmly into his body. I drop my head back onto his shoulder and marvel at the security of being so utterly supported.

Greedy for an unguarded glimpse of his face, I turn my head and catch Edward staring blankly out the dirty windows, fighting to keep his thoughts in the moment. He senses my movement and immediately plasters on a brave smile for my benefit.

“Love you,” I remind him.

“That’s good.” He bends to kiss me and I can tell the resulting smile is genuine.

I’m content to ride the rest of the way with my eyes closed, leaning on my sturdy boyfriend, who seems equally content to lean right back on me. Giving and taking seem to have joined in a circle now, one bleeding seamlessly into the other.

Edward follows closely as we ride the steep escalator out of the dank cave into the relatively fresh air above. We’re already holding hands before we even reach the sidewalk, and I imagine how wonderful it will feel to walk along the beach joined this way, with nothing between us.

“I never noticed how big this place was,” Edward marvels as he pulls open the heavy front door.

“I think I read that it was the biggest Y building constructed at the time.”

Our eyes drift up the fourteen-story edifice together, and Edward comments, “Did you happen to notice it looks like a medieval castle? Look at those balconies.”

“You know, they have guest rooms here now. We could stay the night.”

“Hmm, maybe we should look into that. They might just have a dungeon socked away in the basement.”

“There’s a distracting thought. How about we find our class like two normal-ish people?”

“Sure, honey. Lead the way.”

We’d joked about the instructor having her Masters in Art Therapy, but I’m actually enormously grateful for her background right now. I know Edward prides himself on mastery of his own emotions, among other things, but it can’t hurt to give him an avenue for expression tonight.  There’s a short line filing into the classroom, and just inside the doorway stands Hope Leeds, a sixty-something woman dressed in paint-splattered jeans and an untucked men’s white Oxford shirt, her long frizzy grey hair corralled at the crown of her head by a colorful turban but otherwise spilling freely down her shoulders and back. She greets each of us with a warm handshake and a welcoming smile.

“Please, everyone, find yourself a place behind one of the easels so we can start.”

Edward tips his chin toward a pair of easels in the back of the room, giving me a little glimpse into the kind of student he must’ve been. No front rows for my boy; no way he could ever behave. We rid ourselves of all the winter wear and settle onto our stools.

“The first brush stroke is by far the hardest,” Hope says. “The blank canvas seems to be mocking us, right?” Nervous laughter sprouts up around the room. “We’re going to show that canvas who’s boss.”

I lean into Isabella and mutter, “Now there’s an idea I can get behind.”

She smiles but keeps her attention on the instructor. I should’ve guessed my sub would be a goody two-shoes in class.

“What I’d like each of you to do is to pick one color from your palette and using your largest brush, cover the entire canvas. You can vary the intensity by changing the amount of water on your brush. Don’t worry about what this is going to be, just cover the white. Okay…go for it.”

I stare down at the choices splayed across my board, willing one of the colors to speak to me. Red? Green? Nothing. I beseech the white canvas to beg for something in particular—anything. Again…nothing. I glance over at Isabella, who does not seem to be having the same issue. She goes straight for the royal blue, dipping her brush daintily in the water dish first but moving quickly to paint then canvas, completely unfettered by doubt.

All right, I can do this. What am I making here? Sky? Ground? An interior wall? How am I supposed to—


I look up into the amused eyes of our teacher. Isabella’s brush pauses momentarily, but then she’s right back to it.

“I guess. Seems kind of silly,” I answer, “but I guess I’m used to having a plan.”

Isabella smiles and keeps painting.

Hope points to my palette. “Which color do you like right now?”

I kind of like the blue, but I don’t want to be a copycat. “Black’s okay.”

“Okay, then.”

“Just paint my canvas all black?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“I don’t know. It seems so…final.”

Hope shrugs. “It’s just watercolor; you can paint right over it when it’s dry. Just give it a try.”

She leaves me to go help the next stuck guy, I guess. Black it is. I dip my brush in the water first, then swirl it over the paint cup. As soon as the first splash of color hits the canvas, I feel enormous relief, and I realize how uptight I’d been moments earlier. I get a little braver on my second pass and take more color and less water.

“Nice,” Isabella comments. My eyes click over to hers; it’s finished.

“Thank you, Speedy Gonzales.”

“It’s not a race, sweetie.”

She seems to pick up on the fact that I’m a little self-conscious as I sweep the next brushful across the canvas. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“What’s wrong with that?” she responds.

“I just figured we were supposed to be painting something here.”

“Lose the ‘something,’ Edward. Just paint for the sake of the process.”


“All righty.” Throwing caution and control to the wind, I spin the brush around the top of the paint until it’s loaded with black then dare her to stop me before I cover the bottom half of my canvas with color.

“Now we’re talking,” she encourages me.


Hope sneaks in a bit of a lecture about using watercolors while we wait for our backgrounds to dry, explaining about scale, tone, and color. One thing I already love about watercolors is once the paint dries, you can pretty much paint over it, as if it never happened.

Now that we’ve all created our backdrops, she asks us to think about what we actually want to paint. I suppose a day at the beach is probably out, considering my choice, but if I’d really been feeling the beach mood, would I have really chosen black? I’m afraid my thoughts must’ve drifted back to the finality of putting Boomer down. After what Hope’s explained, I can see where his coloring would show up quite well against the black, and I decide that he’ll feature somehow in this great work of art. As if I could paint something that even comes close to resembling a dog!

Why am I here again? Oh yes, the girl next to me.

“What are you thinking, Isabella?”

She’s gazing at the blue expanse in front of her, turning her head this way and that, the gears cranking away inside that pretty skull of hers. “Looks like water to me. I’m thinking about our hammock.”

“Sounds good to me. You can write in, ‘Wish we were there,’ at the top and make it into a post card.”

“How ‘bout you?”

“I’m not sure yet. I think I might just keep working on the process instead of the something.”

“Okay,” she smiles, dipping her brush into the water.

“I seriously want to dive into your painting and just stay there for a week,” Edward praises. “Not only is that a great-looking hammock, it’s almost exactly the way I pictured it. We better have one of those in—”

Damn, he’s caught himself before giving away our destination. Edward shakes a finger at me. “Unh, unh, unh, Isabella. That was very tricky of you, but I’m not falling for it.”

“What did I do? I just painted a hammock. You did the rest!”

“Sometimes a hammock is just a hammock? Is that your story?”

I’m so happy his mood has lightened, and I wonder if it has anything to do with his painting. He turned his easel away from me before he started the foreground, so I have no idea what he’s done. It fascinates me that we both still have pieces of ourselves that are hard to share—not that we’ve been together all that long, but just that the intensity of it goes so far beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.

“Mind if I have a look?”

He answers by turning his easel so it’s back in line with mine. He doesn’t say a word, just waits patiently while I decipher his work. There’s a yellowish-orangeish-brownish figure in the center that Hope must’ve helped him produce, because it’s textured in a way that a novice wouldn’t have the skill to achieve. Set into the figure is a pair of mostly black almond-shaped eyes with white at the inner corners and a bigger brown triangle that has to be the nose. It’s highly abstracted but clearly Boomer.

Surrounding the figure is a solid white loop that almost looks like Saturn’s rings. Four very ethereal vertical forms are spaced around the circle, and though the figures are far less confident than the dog, it’s not hard to discern them—they’re us, Carlisle, Esme, Edward, and me.

“Can you tell me about that?” I ask cautiously, not wanting to make him talk if he’d rather just keep it light.

His lips curl into a smile. “I knew it was crap. Can you not even tell what it was supposed to be?”

“Of course I can. I see Boomer and all of us, but I wanted to hear what you were thinking.”

“Pffft, you mean aside from the fact that I can’t paint for shit?”

“Is that really what was going through your head while you painted this?”

He folds his arms over his chest and regards his painting. “At first, yes. I wanted to paint Boomer, but I knew I’d never be able to. Once I realized I didn’t have to do his whole body, and that it didn’t even have to look like a real dog, I kind of just let go. Then, the people came much easier, too.”

“What about that circle? You seemed pretty sure of yourself there.”

His smile grows and he turns to face me. “That’s my little family. Mom, Dad…you. All of us fused together, more than the sum of our parts. When I think back on that moment, that’s what I remember most.”

“That’s why the people are kind of…”

“Airy,” he finishes. “Yeah. We were all floundering a bit by ourselves—well, maybe not you—but then, together…” He points to the circle as his voice trails off. “Strong.”

“Family,” I repeat, grinning like a loon.

Leaving class almost feels like a receiving line. “You survived,” Hope teases.

“I did.”

“What do you think of your first piece?”

“I think I have the perfect place to display it.”

Isabella cracks up next to me and gives me a firm shove out the door. “See you next week, Hope. Thank you. We really had a great time.”

“Wait, we were supposed to have fun? I thought we were supposed to learn to paint.” We wind our way down the grand marble staircase back to the lobby.

“I think we’re supposed to learn how to have fun painting.”

“Wow…that is deep. How about I treat us to a taxi home? I don’t want to risk anything happening to our priceless pieces.”

“So tell me, where is this beautiful painting getting displayed?”

“I’m going to keep it in the Master’s closet, so if you’ve been particularly bad, I can make you look at it as punishment.”

“Oh my god, you are evil.”

“You think that’s evil…?”

Her head whips around just as the cab pulls to the curb. “What have you done, Edward?”

“Get in the car, sweetheart.”

She slides in, carefully holding the painting away from her body, her eyes not leaving mine. Once we’re tucked inside and the driver knows where to go, I reach into my pocket and pull out a stash of paint cups.

Isabella gasps.

“Don’t worry, I’ll replace them next week. There’s an art supply store right down the street.”

“Why did you take those?”

“I felt the urge to practice…on your body.”

Her irritation suddenly gives way to amusement. “I don’t suppose you stole a brush while you were at it?”

I shake my head and waggle my fingers, and she throws her head against the back of the seat. “Lord, give me strength.”

“You’re not gonna need that. All you have to do is stand there like a blank canvas and let Picasso do all the work. Hmmm, I think I’ll be in my…red period tonight.”

She grabs my hand and pries open my fingers. “I presume I get a turn as well?”

My little tigress has come out to play. “Sure. Pick a color, any color.”

She reaches in and grabs the yellow, then thinks better of it and takes the blue as well. “Oh! Look at you! Are you going to be making green or keeping them separate?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“In case we get carried away later, which I am certainly counting on, let me tell you right now that I’m really happy you signed us up for this class.”

“Thank you for keeping an open mind, especially with today being such a rough day. You really kind of blew me away in there, Edward.”

I give my canvas another look. Truly, it sucks ass, and there’s no way she doesn’t know that. “Which part was it that you liked—the disembodied dog head or the stick figure aliens floating in outer space?”

Isabella lets loose a loud guffaw, then instantly covers her mouth with her gloved hand. “Sorry, that was just…sorry.” She gets a hold of herself and answers me, just as the taxi pulls up in front of the apartment. “I loved that you let yourself go there. That was brave.”

I lean in and kiss her because she’s beautiful and she understands me like no other woman ever has or will. “Let’s go have some fun, shall we?”

“Are you sure this paint is not edible? Because I reeeeally want to lick this off you.” He’s standing in front of me in the shower, tracing circles around my rigid nipples.

“I’m not sure it’s not, but I’m not sure it is, either, so we better not.”

“Okay, that was a quadruple negative, so that’s a yes.”

“You’re stalling. It’s your turn to stand still and you can’t take it.”

“Sure I can. I’m just not done with you yet.”

“Tell you what, let me paint you and then you can finish with me. How does that sound?”

“Go for it.” With that, he sets down the paint and drops his hands passively to his sides. I refill the water cup with a fresh supply from the spigot.

“Hey! You’re ruining my masterpiece.”

I drop my chin to my chest and look down my body, where the red coloring is forming long rivulets from my neck, striping my breasts and stomach, and rolling down my legs.

“Sorry,” I murmur, shutting the water faucet. Loading my fingertip with blue paint, I draw an experimental line from his nose to his ear and repeat the stripe on the opposite side.

“Would it help if I whooped out a war cry for you?”

“Hold still,” I scold, tracing his perfect jaw with the next stroke.

“That tickles.”

“I’m aware,” I smirk. He’s just painted my entire front one fingertip at a time; I know exactly how this feels. “Turn around please.”

He cocks a surprised brow—an impressed “Damn-why-didn’t-I-think-of-that?” brow—and I give him the twirl finger. Happily, he obeys this time.

Painting Edward is a rare joy. For one thing, he’s standing still and letting me do what I want to his body, which is a rare treat and a guaranteed good time. Secondly, running my hands over his skin with no time limit really affords me the chance to appreciate the many interesting dips and muscular ridges that make up his topography; I even find myself a couple new places to explore in more detail at a later date. Finally, there’s the good old-fashioned ogle factor; the man has a great ass, and I hardly ever get the chance to enjoy it this way.

His back becomes visual proof of my travels, a mess of crisscrossing lines and circles that make no sense artistically, but tell a robust story of a lover’s attention. His ass is a system of concentric circles with random blue trails leading into the vertical divide between left and right. Edward seems to enjoy those particular trails the best of all, as evidenced by the huge smile on his face when I have him turn around.

Though my boyfriend’s front is equally enticing, I opt for a simpler design. Starting with a fresh dollop of paint at his breastbone, I arc up and over his well-defined pec, tickle down the vulnerable hollow along his side, and follow the cradle of his pelvic bone right into the base of his beautiful cock, a lovely piece of organic art that needs no further embellishment.

Once I’ve seen the prize, drawing the mirror-image to the first half of the open heart design becomes more challenging, and I have to admit I’m not exactly patient in making my way to the pointy “V” at the bottom.

Edward’s swollen cock twitches in greeting as I hastily join the two strands of blue and lift my gaze to his waiting, hungry eyes.

“Isabella, if it’s all the same to you, I’d really like to fuck you now.”

Tossing the paint into the corner of the shower stall, I link my hands behind his neck and assure him, “That works for me.”

His serious expression morphs into eager joy as he hoists me up onto his hips and presses me to the cool wall. His blue combines with what’s left of my red, making a watery purple mess between us. “Mmm, colorful,” he observes between kisses.

I cross my feet at his lower back, my heels digging into the want I painted all over his ass. With his hands stretched around my thighs, Edward holds me open and still while entering me, and my loud “Unf” echoes off the ceramic tiles. My back is chilled, but between his desperate kisses and the friction of his thrusting, my front is on fire. The pounding and suction between us make for an erotic soundscape worthy of a porn video, and Edward’s low grunts soon add to the mix. The feel of him smothering me against the wall and thrusting with wild abandon fills me with joy; he’s my Edward again, full of love and passion and need. He releases inside me with a low, building rumble, a freight train rolling into the station, and afterward, he holds me there with long, slow kisses and sweet whispered words.

We clean each other with slow, relaxed swipes of soapy washcloths and swirly massages of peppermint body scrub. Edward is worn out by the time we fall into bed, and he falls quickly into a deep sleep. I watch him for a long while, my breathing synchronizing itself with the rise and fall of his chest.

Today, he was a boy, a son, a novice. Tomorrow, he will be my Master.

Whoever Edward is or will be, I know I will love him fiercely.


  1. So I guess one could venture a guess that Edward is rather outside of his element. Where Isabella is definitely relaxed and ready to go with the flow of the class, it it rather humorous that Edward is having a more difficult time. He is so creative with the scenes when in the "Master" frame of mind, but I guess the plotting and planning for the scenes is more his forte than than of the free expression of the painting class. It is a rather daunting task for someone so accustomed to control and careful planning, that the free flowing, unstructured requirements of a painting class puts Edward into what at first seems rather uncomfortable for him. I guess just kicking back and going with the flow without a definite plan and expected outcome is proving to be a difficult task for Edward.

    I got a real kick out of the fact that Edward finds Isbella a very good little student. Always paying attention. LOL However, leave it to Edward to marry the class with some kink. Seems only Edward would think of swiping some of the paints for a bit of frolic after of the class. Ya just gotta love the ways the man's mind works. I guess he managed to formulate a plan with regard to the painting class afterall.

    Actually, the paint class seemed to be a perfect outlet to let go of some of the stressors of the previous evening. It obviously was a nice way to let go a little before gettin back into scene of Wednesday. And, as always, Isabella recognizes him for all elements that go into making him both her boyfriend and "Master". I loved the last line especially.

    Again this chapter just demonstrates how they are ying and yang. Each of their strengths and weaknesses compliment and play off of one another beautifully.

    1. Yes, to your insights about E's difficulty with the task! I suppose I stuck my own goody two shoes little submissive self into that moment of the class. It made me picture them together in school, opposite sides of the classroom, E always being sent to the principal! LOL to his eventual plan!
      Thank you for your lovely review.

  2. Aww, I loved how Edward was so awkward in the class; you know he only went because Isabella asked him to. Is it wrong to be totally looking forward to Master time on Wednesday? I only hate that it will seem so long to us when it is less than 24 hours for them.

    1. I'm happy for anything you're looking forward to!

      Yes, he went because she asked him, same way as they decided to study the opera together- he knew it would be a great shared adventure. Clearly, it's easier for her than it is for him, and he's going to struggle a bit with that, but it's all good!

  3. I really like it.

    My hubby and other men were out of his compfortzone, too, when we visited a cooking class for couples. (I know a little bit cliché) They only came around, when the teacher made it clear they were there to have fun with their partners and not to be the next 4 stars cooks. But after that you could mean sometimes, you were in the foreplay of a kitchenporn. *grin*

    Great chapter ;)

    1. How lovely that he did that with you! (SEE THIS, HONEY??)
      The couple that plays together stays together.

  4. Hey, sweet B:)

    I didn't have the forethought to copy and paste into and email so no quotes since I can't do that here. *grumble*.

    I thought this was the perfect chapter to help heal after Boomerang. Much better than doggy style sex ... I thought it was funny how each observed the others classroom attitudes and I'm impressed Edward went at all. My mister surely wouldn't placate me for something like that.

    Uhhhhh.... The body paint in the shower??? Win win win. I was right there with you when she was painting him. Well, I wanted to be and I could see it so perfectly in my head.

    I actually really enjoyed that he fell asleep first, too. Almost like he was giving up some of that control he's so fond of.

    Finally, the last two lines are so perfect. I loved those thoughts running through her mind.

    I did copy and paste one line but it has to be last bc I can't type after it. Loved the chapter love you.

    Love this kind too <3. he’s my Edward again, full of love and passion and need.

    1. Thank you for tossing in the doggy sex so I don't actually have to be inappropriate (for a change) and write that!

      I actually really enjoyed that he fell asleep first, too. Almost like he was giving up some of that control he's so fond of. --See? This is (part of) why I love you so much.

  5. "I cross my feet at his lower back, my heels digging into the want I painted all over his ass." What a great line! Loved how you played on the word "want."
    This whole chapter provided great insight into the give and take of their relationship. He, willing to move from his comfort zone for her and she, willing him to let go of his need for control, for planning. Just love it!

    1. I'm so happy you said that, wordluvr, because I knew what I meant when I wrote that, but I wasn't sure it would be easy to understand for a reader!

      I'm so happy you see the larger picture in!

  6. Thanks B, such a lovely update.

    Right of the bat I liked it, especially the security Edward provided Bella in the train.

    Ha, ha thinking of the Dungeon.

    Classic both their 1st thoughts in the classroom, Edward a troublemaker and Bella a goody-two shoes.

    So interesting how he struggled with the freedom, as he likes structure. Yet at the same time when he plans scene he really is allowed a lot of freedom in his planning. I think this was two-fold, that fact he is not an artist, therefore given freedom with something you are unfamiliar with, leads you feeling a little cold and unsure of yourself and what you should do. Whereas his freedom as Master to plan scenes is something he is entirely comfortable with.

    How appropriate the black for his sombre mood, nice touch given his circumstance.

    Love the hammock and everything it entailed. So funny Edward nearly gave it away.

    I really like what Edward drew as well, even though it was crap. It was exactly where his thoughts are at the moment and also showing the integral part Isabella plays within his family, making it stronger.

    LOL, on Edward stealing the paints (I must say, that did surprise me). Though what fun they had. The perfect relaxing, fun ending to a very sad and stressful time.

    Love your words at the end. "My Edward again, full of love passion and need" and no matter who he is she will love him fiercely.

    As always looking forward to the next chapter.
    Thanks B.

    1. I know you're thinking about that subway scene! ;)

      I agree, it's all about comfort level, and Master certainly has his own creative energy, we all know that!

      I might attempt to make that painting one day and post it! Wouldn't that be fun? It really was "abstract"!


  7. That was different and it makes me want to take a painting class with my husband! It was sweet how Edward portrayed his thoughts to his picture and showed that Bella is part of his family. it's hard to believe that they have only been together for a couple of months but amazing.

    1. Yeppers. She's part of the unbroken circle now.

  8. what can I say that hasn't been already said. This was a fantastic chapter that really defined who they are as individuals and as a couple. Think I will make hubs read this one (his idea of doing something fun together is still and always will be ... fishing, bleh)
    Loved it!

    1. Sounds like he and Charlie would get along well!
      Good luck with that, V!

  9. I love these two! Everything they do, riding on the subway, in class, they have a great time ;)

  10. Give and take and want! Those 3 words are exactly what describes this chapter.
    The give being out of your comfort zone, the love for each other, giving into your desires and giving up control.
    The taking of paints ;) that provided ooohhhh such a good time, the taking of comfort from each other, and taking the love given.
    And the want of comforting each other through difficult times, the want of passion, and just the want of it all!

    I love his painting and what it signified! And I thought it was cute that he almost slipped to her about their destination!

    Xoxoxo born!

    1. What a lovely, insightful review. Thank you so much. xx

  11. It was really good to see both of them having a fun together, be it in the painting class or the shower... nothing but good "clean" fun!

    Excellent chapter!

    1. LOL-yes, for a change! Don't worry, back to the dirty tomorrow night in scene!

  12. That's funny...Edward heading to the back of the class....Isabella smiling politely but never taking her eyes off the instructor. She being so creative and rolling with the class. Edward floundering because he is just no good without a concrete plan. It is entertaining to read the differences between the two of them.

    Had to laugh though...Edward "stealing" paint and brushes so he could "paint" Isabella! LOL And he let her "paint" him too. I was kinda of surprised about that for some reason. And, yes, blue and red mixed together make purple...but they way they did it sounds like a lot more fun! LOL

    1. Why were you surprised? He can be passive at times...occasionally!

  13. hard to put into words but sometimes its just nice to see someone who usually has it alll under control, be a little flummoxed, no? I sooo would have been just like edward was in the class...

    loved that shewatched him sleep for a little while. soo cute.

    cant wait for their scene tomorrow night... will it help edward to get bach into the role of master, where everything happens on his timetable and he gets to control exactly what happens?

    and totally random but im craving another marcus flashback... or something. lol. how many more chapters til we see him again? hahaha

    shorter review this time but not a commentary on your writing (just a commentary on the exhustion of working retail at this time of year!)

    1. Sure, Edward will be much more comfortable as Master, but I think he's starting to learn that maybe it's okay to not always be in control, to know what's going to happen. Losing a loved one will do that to you...or make you go crazy the other way and clamp down!

      They have an appointment with Marcus on Thursday and I'd be surprised if Edward didn't have a few moments of drifting back...

      Believe me, I get the exhaustion!

  14. OH BOH - how you tempt me to take up water painting!

    I once again had tears in my eyes from this chapter. When he was struggling with what color to paint his canvas I felt for him. He was definitely out of his element at the time. Glad to see that he pulled through that. Then for him to get stuck on what to paint was another hurdle. I sense that his painting of Boomer and the four of them surrounding him as he passed was in a way a healing process to himself and will help him remember the love that was shared that day.

  15. well now we have painter edward, and seen more of his vulnerable side, i'm impressed and happy that he let his guard down for bella, brings them closer together, it's nice to see them interact and do something that isn't master/subbie, not that those activities aren't hot and great, just more vanilla to the spice

    keep it coming!

    1. Love to see him vulnerable, so happy you do, too.

  16. Uncertain Edward is my absolute favorite:) I love that he thought of Bella as a goody two- shoes:) That put the biggest smile on my face. He's well aware that she prefers following the rules:) I think I was as shocked as Isabella that he swiped the paint!

    Loved this as always:) Thank you! Really, really loving Beyond Inappropriate, too

    1. Happy to surprise my readers after 90 (freaking) chapters!

  17. Love that they could have fun after such a sad experience with Boomer..they compliment each other so beautifully...erotic, so good...thanks.

  18. Oh, I adore that Bella was a goody two-shoes; that's a perfect characterization of her (and *ahem* perhaps of someone else I know) and it's delicious to see them in this vanilla setting. It's so fun to see E thrown off balance a bit — he has such very high expectations of himself in almost every situation, that's it's of course difficult for him not to be sure of the outcome he wants and sure of the path to get there, whether we're talking about sex or technology or anything else in his life.

    I also really liked the moment where he looks at the choices and cannot even pick a COLOR to start with. Very un-Masterly, very clear that he's a bit at sea in this environment. And the "hunh" a couple of times, too — not only is he in new territory, but there are things he hasn't even *thought* of THAT is unfamiliar ground! (Nice parallel in the shower, when she makes him twirl around and he has the, "why didn't *I* think of that?" moment.)

    Terrific shower scene, too — the body painting (Naughty Edward!) is SO strikingly, intensely visual that I was totally rapt. Another yummy update for my favorite kinky couple! :)

    1. Howdy, stranger! Who, MOI? or TOI? Love your comment about his high expectations. It's hard for him not to be great at stuff, and I think it shows how much he cares about B that he's willing to put himself out there.

      Thank you so much for your lovely words about the shower scene. I'm so happy that felt real to you.

  19. Loved this chapter. For Edward to be a little out of his element was a good thing to see. Art isn't always about careful planning and execution, it's about free expression and seeing where it takes you. As one who plans scenes (and darned delicious ones) that must be hard for Edward, but seeing this side of him was refreshing.

  20. Left this a bit late, so everything has already been said. He is so far out of his element I do feel for him. How bad was that stealing the paint, I am really shocked at him.

    xx J_R_E

  21. This was so very different for them and I'm glad he gave it a try. Loved the painting of Boomer, and no matter how much he thinks it sucks, I wish they would hang it.

    My very favorite part was this: "the stick figure aliens floating in outer space". I wonder why? In my mind it means he paints like I draw!

    Stealing the paint was a great move on his part. The man's brain is never far from sex is it?

    1. LOL, not sure that painting is going up anywhere but the top shelf! Yes to the stick figure drawings. Hey, did you see the youtube of the flip book my son gave me for the holiday? The man's brain is never far from sex? Hmm, know anybody else like that? Hee hee. ♥ Jayme!

  22. I love how she gets him. She always simply enters his mind space and joins him in whatever plan/desire he is working on. Excellent!

    1. And vicy versy! Thank you for the insight, though. I do think it's one of their most important qualities as a couple. They never try to change the other, simply appreciate. If only, right?

  23. Loved, loved, loved this chapter!! And this line: “Okay, that was a quadruple negative, so that’s a yes.” I was just struck me so funny.

    From the melancholy to the happy...the emotions ran the gamut.

    Well done, my friend.


    1. Happy you enjoyed it. Thank you for running the gamut with me.

  24. Hehe, that must have been torture for E. ... I´m swooning that he did it anyway!

    1. Well, he's not afraid to just be himself...for HER!

  25. Replies
    1. Thanks so much, Heather! It was fun to explore this side of them both.

  26. What a great aid was the painting process to help with Edward's grief. I loved that. Painting each other was fun to read too. Loved when he said, "Can I fuck you now?"

    1. :) These painting chapters were so much fun to imagine!
      Thanks for enjoying them.