Arms of an Artist Part 4


Part 4


(Liz’s POV)

My alarm went off at six, the usual time in my parents’ house. Mom liked to get an early start to work, and Dad’s café opened for breakfast at seven-thirty.

Since I was small we’d gotten up at the same time, but going to college, I was out of the habit. And today six a.m. seemed way too early. The only thing I was looking forward to was seeing Zan.

He’d surprised me so much with the vibrator, but I should have expected something. Zan was always so thoughtful. And it had been wonderful. Even though we couldn’t be together, it was almost like we were.

Getting out of bed, I quickly showered and dressed, and went down the hall to Zan’s room.

My parents were already downstairs, and I didn’t bother knocking before I let myself into his room.

He was just fastening his jeans, but still bare-chested, and he gave me a wicked grin. I crossed to him, throwing myself into his arms. Our lips came together instantly and he kissed me hard and thorough.

Holding him tightly, I let my hands smooth over his chest and back.

Finally we broke apart. “Good morning,” he murmured.

I sighed. “I missed you.”

“Me too,” he said kissing my head. “But we’ll be together soon,” he promised. “As soon as your parents leave.”

“I can’t wait,” I said, squeezing his hand tightly. “Breakfast isn’t for a few minutes yet. Why don’t I show you around?”

“Sure,” he said smiling. “I didn’t get to see much last night.”

I released his hand so he could pull a shirt over his head, and together we left his room.

“My parents’ room,” I said, motioning into their open door.

He looked in briefly, glancing around.

I motioned to the door at the end of the hall. “Another guest room,” I said, “but the one across from my room is the best one.”

We went down the hall, and into the room, and I led him to the sliding door. “This one has a balcony,” I said, “that looks out onto the garden and the pool.”

“Wow,” Zan said, obviously impressed.

I looked at the house and yard I’d known all my life, trying to see it through his eyes.

The house was in sort of an ‘L’ shape, and it bordered the pool on two sides. The bedroom we were in and my parents’ bedroom next to it, both had large balconies that looked down into the yard.

Below, there were large, tropical trees, bushes and tall brick wall with a wrought-iron top lining the property, so the neighbors’ houses were barely visible. The landscaping was perfect, thanks to the team of gardeners that came over once a week. There were beds of flowers lining the pool and house, and a large concrete area for entertaining, including several covered seating areas, a fire pit, and an outdoor kitchen.

Near the pool was a large built-in hot tub, a small pool house where guests could get changed, and even outdoor showers.

“The pool looks great,” Zan said.

I nodded. “I always loved it. I went swimming all the time growing up. I used to sneak out in the middle of the night to swim.”

He grinned. “Well, maybe we can go, swimming, later.”

I’m sure I blushed. “I’ve been thinking about making love in the pool, actually,” I admitted.

Briefly he pressed his lips to mine. “Sounds like a great idea to me, angel.”

Taking his hand, I led him downstairs, showing him through the various rooms, and finally ending up in the kitchen.

Breakfast at our house was always a big deal. My Dad likes to cook, and he would make sure my Mom and I always had a good meal to start the day.

Today, I think he was showing off for Zan. He’d made eggs, bacon and sausage, pancakes, hash browns, toast and fresh orange juice from fruit picked off the trees in the backyard.

I was starving, and not just for food, so I ate heartily to have stamina for the morning of energetic lovemaking I knew was coming.

As we ate, we made small talk, and a few times I saw my parents glance at each other as if they were silently communicating, and it made me wonder what they were up to. They were obviously plotting against us already and a shiver of apprehension went through me.

To his credit, Zan was chatting with my parents, but they both seemed preoccupied and only answered him briefly. A feeling of dread started to fill me. My throat seemed to tighten, making it hard for me to swallow, and my stomach churned, giving me a queasy feeling.

Pushing my plate away, I was aware that I hadn’t even finished half of my breakfast, but I couldn’t have eaten another bite. I’d been so hungry a moment before, but now I was in too much anticipation about what my parents planned.

I just wanted to be alone with Zan. Being in his arms, feeling his body against mine, inside me, would chase away my fears. And as if he read my thoughts, he turned to me, giving me a reassuring smile.

Instantly the desire raged through me again, making me feel almost weak. I smiled back at him, a small gasp leaving my lips. I could feel the familiar throbbing, ache deep in my body that would only be satisfied by Zan.

Reaching for my orange juice, I took a long sip, trying to get myself under control. The last thing I needed was for my parents to suspect what we were going to do.

The rest of breakfast seemed to last forever, but finally it was over, and I was practically vibrating in place, waiting for my parents to leave.

Gathering a stack of dishes, I eagerly helped my Mom when she turned to me and said, “Liz, give me hand putting these in the dishwasher.” The sooner the dishes were done the sooner they would be gone.

(Zan’s POV)

I rose from the table to follow Liz and her mother into the kitchen to help with the dishes, but Mr. Parker came up from behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. “I’d like to have a talk with you, Zan.”

I nodded. It certainly didn’t come as a surprise, and I followed him into his study, closing the door behind us.

Quickly I looked around, noting the shelves filled with books, the large window overlooking the yard, and his desk that had a file folder and the drawing of Liz I had given him laying on the surface.

He turned to me, and I let him speak.

“You’ve got to know that we’re disappointed Liz didn’t tell us she was living with you.”

“Yeah,” I said softly, holding his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know about that, Mr. Parker. I insisted she tell you when I found out.”

He nodded. “That’s what Lizzie told us, and I believe her. But what concerns me is why she thought she needed to lie in the first place.”

I remained silent, knowing what was coming.

“Liz knew we wouldn’t approve,” he said. She knew she should be concentrating on school and not,” he paused, his eyes narrowing on me, “playing around.”

“She’s a smart girl,” he continued, “and we expect a lot from her. She expects a lot from herself. And frankly, Zan, you just aren’t the type of man we want for our daughter.”

I felt a grin lifting the corner of my mouth, but worked to keep my face passive. Mr. Parker was a lot more direct than I expected, and I admired him for that.

“We thought Lizzie would be with someone more like herself,” he continued. “A college graduate, someone with the same goals and ambitions.”

“I understand, Mr. Parker,” I assured him. “You want the best for your daughter. And I may not look the part on the outside, but you really don’t know anything about me.”

“Well Zan, that’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “After Liz told us about you, I hired a private investigator to check you out.”

Liz had been right. Now I did smile. This ought to be good. “And what did he find out?” I asked curiously.

“Not much, actually,” Mr. Parker admitted. “He had a hard time finding anyone who would talk to him.”

I nodded. That was typical. I wondered if I checked my messages how many would be telling me someone was asking about me.

Mr. Parker continued. “The P.I. couldn’t even get in to see your agent,” he said, making the word agent sound like he didn’t really believe I needed one.

Reaching over to his desk, he opened the file folder and took out a piece of paper and a pamphlet. I recognized them immediately. It was my press release and a small bio from a gallery opening.

“According to these,” he said, “you’ve lived a pretty rough life; an orphan in the foster care system, barely graduated high school, and never stepped foot inside a college, not even to study art.”

I didn’t disagree, even though the high school part wasn’t exactly true. It had been exaggerated for the bio and I’d never cared enough to make them fix it.

Mr. Parker was on a roll. “So I’ve got to ask myself, Zan, what do you see in my daughter?”

His eyes raked over me in an insulting way, stopping on the tattoo visible on my forearm and then on the ring in my eyebrow. “Surely Liz isn’t the type of girl you usually date. She’s a nice girl, innocent, studious, and maybe that appealed to you. But I think it has more to do with what you could get from her.”

I nearly choked. He was direct, but surely he wasn’t going to ask about our sex life, was he?

Again he reached to the desk, this time picking up a small piece of folded paper out of the file folder before he spoke. “You must have found out pretty fast that Liz’s mother and I have made a good life for ourselves, and maybe you thought you’d get part of that if you made Liz fall in love with you.”

He unfolded the paper and thrust it at me, and I saw it was a check made out to me.

“This is all you’re going to get out of us,” he said. “And I expect you to cut yourself out of Liz’s life. Tell her it’s over between you, and she has to move out.”

My eyebrows rose at the small amount he offered. Maybe he was starting low, hoping he didn’t have to go higher.

“Mr. Parker,” I started, “what exactly did your P.I. tell you about my financial situation?”

He looked confused, but recovered quickly. “He told me you were fairly successful, but he couldn’t find any specific information. You don’t even have a real place to live, an apartment or condo. You live in the loft you use as a studio,” he said, making it sound like it was some dirty old condemned building that I was squatting in. “You don’t have any other property, or a car, only a small bank account in your name.”

I nodded. “That’s right, nothing’s in my name. I have a corporation for tax purposes.”

“What?” Mr. Parker asked, in obvious disbelief.

I continued. “Did your P.I. explain what he meant when he said I was fairly successful?”

Mr. Parker shrugged. “I didn’t ask. I just assumed he meant you sold a painting from time to time.”

I smiled. “Mr. Parker I own the loft, free and clear. And it’s not some scummy warehouse, it’s in a nice part of town, near NYU. It’s completely finished and modernized, with a bathroom, kitchen, appliances, furniture, just like any house. And it’s big enough that I have my studio there too. That’s why I bought it.”

Mr. Parker looked stunned.

I motioned to the drawing of Liz I had given him, where it lay on his desk. “I could sell that sketch for twice as much as you just offered me, and my paintings go for at least ten times that. I also just made a deal to sell lithos of my work that will pay me a commission for years.”

He did a double take that was almost comical, and looked closely at the sketch, frowning.

“I don’t need your money, Mr. Parker,” I said. “And even if I did need it, I wouldn’t take it in exchange for giving up Liz. I love her. She’s worth more to me than any amount of money.”

He shook his head. Obviously he’d expected me to take the money and that would be the end of me.

Immediately he changed his argument. “Liz has a bright future ahead of her, Zan, and if you do really love her you’d want her to succeed, not hold her back.”

I held his eyes. “I want her to succeed more than anyone.” I told him. “And I help her any way I can. Nothing means more to me than Liz getting exactly what she wants.”

“And you’re right, Mr. Parker,” I continued, “Liz isn’t the type of girl I used to date. I wanted something better, a real relationship with someone I love and respect, who loves and respects me in return. And Liz is everything you said and more; sweet, caring, honest, intelligent. That is exactly what drew me to her, and why I love her.”

Mr. Parker looked doubtful.

“I know I’m not the type of man you wanted for her, and I may look rough on the outside. But I love your daughter with all my heart, and she loves me. I made some mistakes when I was young, but I’ve learned from them, and I’ve changed.”

I paused to make sure he was looking at me, so he could see how serious I was. “I’m a good person, Mr. Parker, and Liz makes me want to be a better one. And I’ll do anything to prove it to you, Mr. Parker.”

(Liz’s POV)

It only took me about a minute to realize my Mom had just been distracting me so my Dad could talk to Zan, and by then it was already too late. Zan and Dad were gone, and I bet they were in his office together.

But there was nothing I could do. Dad would get Zan alone sooner or later. I just had to have faith in Zan and our relationship.

My heart thudded as the long minutes passed, and we cleaned up the kitchen. It seemed like they were in there forever.

We finished, and I moved into the dining room to be closer to the office, when the door opened, and Zan and my Dad emerged.

Dad looked angry, and I couldn’t read Zan’s expression, and held my breath.

What did Dad say to him? I wondered.

Had he done it already? Had he been able to chase Zan away?

But when Zan saw me, he smiled, and crossed to me, taking my hand. Instantly I relaxed. My Dad’s first attempt had failed. I just had to hope that Zan could ride out the rest of the storm.

My Dad briefly scowled when he saw me, and then his face cleared. “Lizzie,” he said, “I’m going to need you to work the breakfast and lunch shifts at the café while you’re here.”

I was stunned. “What? No, Dad. This is my vacation.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but you know we’re always shorthanded this time of year.”

“But,” I argued, “we have plans. I was going to show Zan around, and take him to the beach.”

“You’ll have to go to the beach after the shift,” my Dad said, his tone not leaving room to argue. He looked at Zan. “Or you can go while we’re at work.”

“Dad,” I started to argue, but Zan squeezed my hand.

“I understand,” Zan said. “And if you’re that shorthanded, I’d be glad to help out too. I’ve had jobs in cafes before. I’m an expert at busing tables.”

I could tell by my Dad’s expression that he wasn’t pleased, but how could he turn down free, experienced help.

He nodded. “We need to leave in five minutes.”

After he left, I turned to Zan. “I’m sorry,” I said, angrily. “I can’t believe he’s forcing me to work.”

Zan took me in his arms. “He’s trying to keep us apart,” he said kissing me. “He probably figured out that leaving us alone in the house wasn’t such a good idea.”

He winked. “He knew I’d have my way with you.”

I pressed my body to his. “Or I’d have my way with you.” I lowered my voice. “I’m aching for you.”

Nuzzling my cheek, he said, “I know, angel, I am too.” He pressed his lips to mine. “We might have to wait a little, but I’ll find a way for us to be together. I promise.”

(Zan’s POV)

I wasn’t sure how I was going to keep my promise to Liz, but I’d get a damn hotel room if I had to.

Liz wanted me, and I sure as hell wanted her. I wasn’t going to deny either of us.

When Liz had been showing me around upstairs, all I wanted was to press her up against a wall and have her right there. But I’d used a tremendous amount of will power to stop myself. First, it was stupid to think her parents wouldn’t catch us, and second, I thought I was going to have her in a matter of minutes when her parents left for work.

Her father had surprised us both with his demand that she go to work, but I should have expected it. He’d thought of a perfect way to keep us apart. Maybe he’d even hoped I’d get bored and leave, or I’d meet some hottie in a bikini at the beach. But that wasn’t going to happen.

All I wanted was Liz. I’d volunteered to work just so I could at least be near her.

After our shift I’d work something out so we could be alone. I had to or we would both explode from the unsatisfied desire.

So with that in mind, I drove Liz to the café, instead of riding with her father.

On the way I told her most of what her father and I talked about, only leaving out the part where he offered me money to break up with her.

Liz was already so worried about the lengths he might go to in order to keep us apart, and I didn’t want to increase her fears. I can understand why she is so afraid of losing me, because I have the same fears where she is concerned.

When you find your soulmate, you never want to be without them again.

The Cosmic Cafe was only a few minutes from their house, in a small business area near Jupiter Beach, on a street lined with other shops, restaurants, clubs and tourist traps geared toward the space industry.

Liz told me her father had recently bought the adjoining building and was in the process of getting it renovated into another of his space memorabilia stores. Eventually they would knock down part of the wall into the café so the two connected.

Inside, the café reminded me of 50s style diners I’d seen in movies and on TV. There were large, overstuffed booths around the walls and old-style formica and metal tables and chairs in the center. There was a huge counter that curved in a vague ‘L’ shape and had swiveling stools attached to the floor around it. There was even a large coin-operated jukebox.

But there was a twist that let you know immediately this wasn’t just a nostalgia diner.

All the equipment was new, stainless steel, and state-of-the-art with built-in computers and digital readouts. Even the jukebox was digital and held thousands of the latest songs along with the classics.

But most noticeable was that in every possible place, there were aliens. They were in photos, in displays around the restaurant, in a mural that covered one entire wall, on the wallpaper. Even the menu items had alien-themed names. Not to mention above the counter was a huge spaceship, trimmed in neon that appeared to have crashed through the wall.

Subtle it wasn’t, but somehow it worked. It had a fun, diner-in-space atmosphere.

A few employees were already there, opening up when we arrived. Two cooks were prepping in the back, and a waitress was setting up the front.

Mr. Parker got me a uniform t-shirt out of the back, and I went out of his sight to change, so he wouldn’t see my other tattoos. The shirt was the largest size he had, and unfortunately it was tight on me through the chest and arms. The sleeves squeezed over my biceps, riding up higher than they were meant to, exposing two more of my tattoos.

I tried stretching the shirt out, but finally gave up. Mr. Parker was about to discover something else about me he wouldn’t like.

Liz was already dressed in her uniform, a sort of futuristic twist on a 50s waitress. It was a simple turquoise dress, trimmed in silver, with a silver apron in the shape of an alien head, and a headband that had antenna on it.

She looked sexy as hell in the form-fitting, short dress, and I noted that only a few snaps held it on her. I felt my cock start to stiffen just looking at her.

Shifting, I didn’t know how I was going to survive the day.

(Liz’s POV)

Breakfast was busy, and lunch was even busier. Even with the two of us helping out, we were all working hard.

At first, I noticed my Dad kept an eye on Zan, carefully watching him work, but he must have been satisfied Zan was doing a good job. After the first half hour, he left Zan alone to work, while he concentrated on greeting the customers and making sure everyone was satisfied.

It was no surprise to me that Zan threw himself into the menial job. He’d worked two and three jobs sometimes to support himself before his art started selling. And he always did his best, taking pride in a job well done. Not to mention, I was sure he was trying to impress my Dad.

I couldn’t help but be angry that my Dad had made me come to work, and I kept looking longingly at Zan, thinking about what we could be doing instead.

He looked so damned sexy in that tight t-shirt. It stretched across his bulging muscles, moving with him as he worked.

And it didn’t help that Zan kept meeting my eyes with his sizzling gaze. I could see from across the room how much he wanted me too. Each time he came near, he made sure to touch me and whisper in my ear what he wanted to do when we were alone.

He was driving me crazy.

I tired not to look at him and concentrate on my job but it was impossible.

As I took an order from a table of three, my eyes seemed to have a mind of their own, automatically seeking out Zan where he was cleaning up a few tables away. I watched as he moved a chair, making the muscles in his arms bulge, and when he bent over to pick up a napkin from the floor his tight ass showed off perfectly in his jeans. He stood up, leaning over the table, rapidly wiping it down, causing the already tight t-shirt to strain over his strong chest and back.

I pictured him naked, holding me in his loving arms as he surged into me. Desire for him ripped through me. My body felt like it was on fire, and my insides were melting. I felt my mouth go dry and my heart raced. I wanted him so much.

And as if he knew I was watching, he turned to me with a knowing grin.

But the moment was broken as the customers at the table brought me back to reality. “Miss, did you hear me say I wanted the dressing on the side?”

Flustered and blushing, I tried to pretend I hadn’t just been staring at Zan’s ass. “Ummm, sorry. Could you repeat your order?”

As time passed I tried my best to do my job, but I spent more and more time watching Zan. Every move he made around the restaurant seemed to remind me of sex. When he hefted a tub full of dishes, I imagined his strong arms holding me to his hard body as he kissed me. When he wiped off a table, I imagined his hands roaming over my body, caressing every inch of me. And when he leaned over a table, I imagined him over me as he first slid inside.

It had been way too long. I was desperate to have him.

Finally the lunch rush started to slow down a little, and I saw Zan approach a table, handing the customers a bottle of ketchup. He spoke to them briefly, and then moved quickly around the cafe, cleaning up as much as he could, and taking a huge over-stacked tub of dishes into the back.

When he emerged a moment later, he took a quick glance at my father to make sure he wasn’t looking and then slipped over to the jukebox, quickly deposited his money and chose a song. I’d seen him looking at the selections before we opened, but I couldn’t imagine what he was playing.

I didn’t have to wonder for long.

As the song started, he met my eyes and winked, and I knew he’d chosen it for me.

It seems so obvious
There’s something up with us
I swear I feel it
From across the room.
So can I ask you this?
Not to be forward, miss,
But I think I'd kill myself
If I never knew...

When the chorus started, he held my eyes, mouthing the lyrics across the room.

What do I have to do
To get inside of you?
To get inside of you?
Cuz I love the way you move,
When I'm inside of you.
When I'm inside of you...

I felt my breath catch and I couldn’t look away from him. He grinned wickedly and my whole body shook with desire.

He bent over a table and pretended to be wiping it off, but his eyes still held mine. He had me memorized in a sexual web of desire, and I barely even heard the next words.

Just ask and I will do
Anything you want me to
There is no limit
To how far I will go..
And I’m sure I can pretend
To be a gentlemen..
But before I begin,
I just gotta know,
I just gotta know,
I just gotta know...

Again he mouthed the words with the chorus, and I felt like he was seducing me all over again.

He looked so sexy and hungry for me, and I felt my core throbbing in anticipation. If I didn’t have him soon, I thought I might faint.

What do I have to do
To get inside of you?
To get inside of you?
Cuz I love the way you move,
When I'm inside of you.
When I'm inside of you...

With a jerk of his head, he motioned to the back room.

Instantly my eyes went to my Dad, but he was deep in conversation with the guys Zan had just given the ketchup to.

I moved quickly, practically running through the door, into the back, and Zan was right behind me. Gripping my hand, he pulled me into the small pantry and closed the door, locking it behind us.

Pressing me against the door with his body, he kissed me hard. Instantly I wrapped my arms around him, needing him close.

“We only have a few minutes, angel,” he growled. “Are you ready for me?”

I felt almost dizzy with longing for him, and I’d been wet since I’d first seen him in his room this morning. “Yes,” I gasped.

Kissing me again, he reached between us and I heard the rasp of his zipper a second before he lifted me against the door. He pushed aside my panties and impaled me with a single, deep stroke.

My eyes slid closed in utter bliss, and I wrapped my legs around him, moaning softly. “Oh Zan.”

There was no time for subtlety, and he slammed into me fast and hard. And I loved it. I needed him so much.

It sounds crazy but we’d never gone so long without making love, and I was having serious withdrawals.

He pistoned into me harder and harder and I held onto him tightly making incoherent noises, hardly able to do anything but feel. It was almost overwhelming wanting him so much for so long and then suddenly having him.

As our bodies moved together, Zan pulled apart the top few buttons of my uniform and slipped his hand inside. He angled into my bra, cupping my breast and kneaded it with his skillful fingers.

I didn’t think I could be any more aroused than I already was, but a surge of pleasure shot through me, making me whimper.

Zan growled, lowering his head to take my sensitive breast into his mouth. He sucked me hard, laving my rigid nipple with his tongue.

My fingers dug into his shoulders as my body started to tighten with the building pleasure.

Releasing my breast he increased his rhythm inside me, and I pumped my hips to meet him.

“Oh yes, oh yes,” I moaned. This is exactly what I needed.

He slammed into me even faster and I arched back, my body refusing to obey me when I was so close. But I trusted Zan to bring us to a spectacular conclusion.

My core throbbed around him, squeezing him hard as I gasped for breath. The pleasure was so overwhelming it was almost painful.

“Fuck baby,” he growled softly into my ear. “Fuck!”

I knew by his tone he was getting close too. He sped up even more, pressing me hard into the door, each of his strokes filling me completely. He felt so incredible and I wondered if you could pass out from pleasure.

But then my breath caught, and my whole body shook as I plunged over the edge. Zan came a second later, his hips pumping against me a few more times.

I felt like I was floating on pleasure, my whole body pulsing to the rhythm, leaving me feeling completely sated. It was amazing.

Holding him tightly, I murmured in his ear. “I love you, Zan. I love you.”

“I love you,” he panted harshly.

But he only allowed us to savor our incredible connection for a moment. “We’ve got to go,” he said, still trying to catch his breath, “before someone misses us.”

I nodded. I wished he could stay inside me, but he was right. “I know,” I said, just as breathlessly. “You just feel so good.”

“After work,” he promised, “we’ll find somewhere to be alone. And we’ll take our time.”

Kissing me again, he pulled out and put me on my feet. Quickly he put his own clothes in order before helping me fix mine. The antenna had fallen off my head, and he smoothed my hair before putting them in place.

I felt the loss of him immediately and the hunger inside me returned, but I’d just have to wait until after our shift.

Quickly kissing me again, he unlocked the door, glancing outside to make sure it was clear before he let me out.

Still buzzing with the orgasm, I swayed on my feet, feeling way too happy, but I couldn’t show it around my Dad. Somehow I had a feeling he’d know exactly what just happened. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm down and make sure I didn’t have a silly grin on my face.

I went into the dining room, and was surprised to see my Dad still talking to the guys at the table where Zan had delivered the ketchup. But then I understood. It was obvious Zan had somehow gotten them to distract my Dad while we were in the back, and I couldn’t help smiling.

I hurried to check the customers at my tables, and saw Zan come in a moment later with an empty busing tub. He nodded to the guys at the table, and my smile widened.

My Dad left to greet some new customers a few minutes afterward, and Zan approached the guys with a bottle of mustard. And if I wasn’t mistaken, he also passed them a folded bill at the same time.

Crossing to Zan, I started to help him clean the table he was working on.

“Did you bribe those guys to keep my Dad busy?” I asked, smiling.

The corner of Zan’s mouth tweaked up as he continued piling dishes into the tub. “Well, I just told them that he would appreciate if they asked about his business, and the space industry, and how he got the idea to open the café. And I slipped them fifty bucks to make it worth their while.”

I laughed. “It was worth a lot more than fifty bucks.”

He smiled then. “Yes, it was. Any time with you is priceless.”

Our shift was over in about an hour, and I was looking forward to spending time alone with Zan. I imagined us making sweet love for hours, then walking hand-in-hand alone on a deserted beach, my head resting on his shoulder as we watched the sunset.

But my fantasy was interrupted by my Dad coming over to us.

“Sorry Liz. I forgot to mention that your mother has put together a little pool party for this evening, and she’ll need a lot of help getting everything ready, so don’t make any other plans.”

When he left, I turned to Zan scowling. “I can’t believe this. Is he going to keep us busy every moment of every day? How are we going to be together?”

The smile had gone from Zan’s face too. “Your father is a lot more determined than I expected.”



Arms of an Artist
Part 5 - Main
The Artist Series Main
Fanfic Main
Back to Main