Books By Jo Cattell

Books By Jo Cattell

Sunday, January 27, 2013

Sunday Post "After Angel's Fall"




“You're so incredibly smart and gorgeous.” He took her hand. He got an idea and led her into a room where there were very little paintings.
“Where are we going now?” she asked him.
“'I'll tell you in a minute. Give me your bag,” he said, taking it from her.
“Nick!” she called to him but he told her to wait.
Ten minutes later, he came back and handed her bag back.
“What are you up to?” She noticed the smirk on his face and wondered where he'd gone.
“I found another exhibit I want to show you. They hid it in the stairwell.” He pulled her up and led her in.
There, along the wall, he'd taped up her sketches and there was a piece of paper with the words “The Chloe Gardner Exhibit” written on it. “Now see, I like the way this artist used her talents to bring out the likeness of this nun. Look how she captured the wisps of hair that hung untouched from her habit,” he explained.
She laughed.
“And this one, notice the poise that the skater has as she spins,” he continued as he put his hand to his face, acting like he was focusing on it.
“You are crazy.” She shook her head.
“Now, I think this one is my favorite. Whoever this young man is, he is very handsome, and the artist has used him a few times. You can see the love she has for him as she has detailed his name on this sketch. Whoever this Nicholas person is, he's very good looking man.”
Chloe threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “You're a fool, and very cocky.”
“I may be, but someday, we're going to walk in here and it's going to be your work hanging on the walls.” He kissed her.
She touched his face and stared into his soft brown eyes. “I really wish I could see what you do.”
“You will,” he answered.
Somehow, she found herself against the wall and their kisses had a hunger to them. His leg was between hers and she felt herself wanting him. His hands caressed her breasts and she wanted so much for him to take her there in the stairway.
He told her how he loved her and how he had missed her.
Her body literally ached for him. In her mind, Shelly's voice called her a slut. She rubbed at the hardness he had for her and he moaned as he kissed her neck. She felt his
hand on her leg as he pulled up the hem of her skirt. She put her hands under his shirt and dug her nails in to his back as he squeezed her butt. The word "whore" echoed through her mind. This proved it. Not only was she tempting him, she was about to have sex in the stairway at the art museum. She promised that this would not happen again, and yet, she found she couldn't stop herself.
 “Oh, God Nick. Stop, stop!” she yelled and pushed him away. She sunk to the floor and tried to catch her breath.
“What? What's the matter?” he asked her, just as breathless.
He watched her closely.
She went to her knees and then begged for the thought to leave her mind.
Gently, he touched her arms.
“We can't.” She pulled away from him, and slowly stood up.
“Chloe,” he said softly, touching her cheek. “What's going on? This is the second time today you pushed me away.”
“I'm not going to have sex in a stairway. God knows what would have happened if Shelly had came home those times and we were going at it.” She started taking the sketches down.
He stopped her and made her look at him. “What happened when they kept you away from me? What did they make you believe?”






photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/imagineitall/7379185178/">Por mi tripa...</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">cc</a>

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