39 Art

I wake up, not knowing when I fell asleep. I feel Jacksons arms wrapped tightly around me and I wiggle my way out so I can use the bathroom. I get to the edge of the bed and stand up. Only to fall right back on my ass on the bed waking Jackson.

"Everything okay?" He sits up, looking around with unfocused eyes.

"Um.. yes...? " I shake my head at myself and try to stand again but my legs are like foam tubes, unable to support my weight very well.

Jackson seeing my obvious issue, threw the covers back and quickly came to my aid. He helped me walk to the bathroom through the empty space that was between the two. Once I came back out, I was able to walk on my own, but my legs were still extremely shaky. 

"What the hell did you do to my legs?" I laughed, sitting down so I could maneuver my way into the bed with him. 

He chuckled, "What?! Don't try to hold me responsible for the outcome that you were aware could be a consequence for your actions." He gives me a playful wink and I harumph. 

"I don't even remember anything after that earth shattering fucking orgasm." I laugh, breathlessly. "So what happened?" 

Jackson just smiles smugly and shakes his head at me, "You said something I couldn't understand and as soon as I came back with a towel for clean up, you were already out of it." 

I narrow my eyes at him and shrug, "I don't remember any of it." I pat his arm, "Good job on fucking my brains out... Want to do it again?" I giggle and straddle Jacksons lap.

"Mmmm... I could do that again. Or... I could let you ride and fuck mine out." Jackson quirks a brow and I laugh confidently at him. 

"Sounds like a good time either way." I lean over and kiss him.

When I woke up again, it was morning and I felt glorious and sore. Stretching my arms out, I pause. My arms swipes up and down the mattress on either side and feeling the coolness of empty sheets I sit up quickly and look around. The sound of the shower being turned off has me sighing and laying back down with a smile as I close my eyes again. A minute later, I feel the dip of the bed before Jackson's body slides in to curls up around mine.

"Good morning, beautiful." Jacksons lips kiss my temple as my smile grows.

"Good morning." I turn in his arms so I can face him, wrapping my arms tighter around him. "What would you like to do today?" 

"I'm perfectly content with staying right here next to you." He squeezes me in return and I release a content sigh feeling my heart swell with his words. 

"Well, we do need to eat eventually you know." I mumble resting my cheek against his chest. I feel him tense before he releases me and sits up.

"You're right. You need food. Pancakes and fruit sound good to you?" Jackson leans over me, laying a soft kiss on my forehead.

"Sounds perfect." I smile up at him. 

He gets up and I roll over in bed onto my stomach to watch him slide a pair of underwear and slacks on, looking like an Adonis in the morning sunlight. My stomach flutters and my core clenches over how sexy he is and he's mine. I watch as he heads downstairs in his slacks and no shirt, frowning that my feast for my eyes has gone away.

I roll out of bed, brush my hair and slip on some underwear and my robe before heading down to the kitchen. He's pouring the first of the pancakes on to the sizzling pan when I walk in. He's focused on what he's doing but still flickers a smile my way. 

"Your coffee is on the bar. I figured you'd be down here shortly." He grins as he sets the bowl with the batter down.

"Oh? How did you figure that out?" I ask, picking up my cup and taking a sip. Mmmm... Perfect.

"You were devouring me with your eyes and looked so forlorn when I started to leave the room." He picks up his coffee and cocks a smug brow at me. "It almost made me feel guilty for coming down and making you breakfast." He chuckles as I purse my lips at him, amused but annoyed at being caught and read so well.

My tongue pops out of my mouth at him before I take another sip of my coffee. He shakes his head at me, a large smile across his face as he turns to flip the pancakes. 

"What fruit would you like with your pancakes?" He asks over his shoulder.

"Do you like pecans?" I ask him, thinking of my options. 

"I do." He responds, plating the done pancakes and pouring out the next four.

I hop up and grab from my cabinet the pecans and pull two apples from my fruit bowl to start cleaning and cutting. Once I sliced them, I pull out a small sauté pan and set it on the stove next to Jackson and ask him to cut a tablespoon of butter in the pan.

Once the butter is melted and starting to brown, I put the apples in the butter, letting them warm and soften, sprinkling them with the lightest amount of sugar to help give them a light caramelized edge. As the rest of the pancakes are plated, I take the apples and divide them evenly over the top of the pancakes and sprinkle them with the pecans.

"Bon appétit!" I exclaim, loving the smell and how delicious it looks.

Jackson grins at me, "This looks delicious." He picks up the plates and set them at the bar where our coffees are. "Let's eat."

I join him and we dig in, smiling at each other and as we enjoyed our breakfast and each others company.

After we cleaned up and dressed for the day, we decided to sit back and watch a movie. In one part, the main lead walks through an artists studio, watching the class that's taking place. She stops at a particular artist who's art has caught her eye. The artist isn't drawing the model like the rest of the class, but is drawing everything except the model. They're doing such an amazing job that you can almost see the model there, know that someone should be there but is missing. After some praise, the main character asks why did they choose to focus on everything but the actual model. The artist responds that most people focus on only the most important part of a piece and forget the beauty that surrounds it. For some reason this made me yearn to draw, something I had not done in a while. 

Jackson takes note of my suddenly fidgeting hands as I try to calm them. "What's the matter?" 

"Nothing, really. The scene just made me yearn to draw something again." I shrug still fidgeting with my hands.

"Maybe you should then." He sits up and rises from the couch. He disappears upstairs, making me question what he's up to, when he comes back down the stairs, a familiar box in his hand.

He hands my artists box to me, one that I've held onto because I won it through the school for submitting a drawing and winning. 

"Go ahead and draw while we watch." He urges me on before laying back in his spot on the couch. He sits back watching the movie while I open my artist case that had been just inside of my closet. I open it, seeing the carefully kept pencils with different leads and the different type of erasers for doing different things. I pull out the drawing board with paper and select a pencil and begin sketching. 

At first, I just started letting the pencil make lines and swirls, falling and marking the paper wherever it just felt right. Soon those lines and swirls became a familiar shape of the man in front of me on the couch. Laying back, his hair messy from laying back on the couch and not styling it. His posture relaxed but strength could be seen through every hard line I made. I wasn't even looking at Jackson anymore, merely drawing, shading and perfecting my mental visual of him on paper. I grabbed a clean sheet of paper and tore it into four smaller pieces to roll up tightly and give me a sharp point to shade the smaller areas. I used my fingers to shade the larger areas before pulling out the erasers and putting the highlights back into the right areas before leaning back to take in my drawing. I sharpened one of my pencils till I got a fine point and added a few stray hairs to his head that liked to curl their own way, added some sharper, darker lines to the edges of his clothes, then signed my name and date at the bottom of the paper.

When I looked at my finished piece, I was proud of it. I lifted my head to see Jackson staring at me, intently but smiling broadly.

"You finished it then?" He raises a brow at me and sits up, "Well, let's see it." He leans over as I lean back, biting my bottom lip.

I wait in anxious silence, a million thoughts running through my head.

He doesn't like it.

I should have put more shading in his hair.

He probably thinks I made him with gray hair, when he doesn't have any yet.

He raises his eyes to meet mine and he searches me as he inquires, "This is how you see me?"

Confused, I respond, "This is how you really look."

He leans forward and pulls me into a kiss, careful of the art case between us. It's soft and slow causing my toes to curl. When he pulls back I can see the emotions rising in his eyes as he gets out a croaky, "Thank you. I love it."

He sets the case and picture on the table and pulls me into his lap. He swipes my hair from my neck and lays a soft kiss just below my ear. "I love you, Melita."

"I love you too, Jackson."