chapter twenty-three

“You look gorgeous, Vanessa.” Blue eyes sparkled while the dying sunrays reflected against them as he soaked up my appearance.

“Thank you,” I replied, letting the smirk curl my lips. “I wasn’t sure what to wear since I have very few clothes I am willing to ruin.” His shoulders jolted slightly as he stifled a silent laugh, eventually easing into an even more relaxed state.

“If you ruin your dress, I will take responsibility and replace it. Given the fact that I was the one to suggest the date.” It was as if my presence had a magnetic effect on him, pulling him towards me as he leaned forward. I could feel his breath puffing against my lips, and my eyelids grew heavy, wanting me to give in and close them before leaning forward to close the distance.

“As you should,” I whispered. But instead of kissing me, Orpheus smiled and softly brought his hand up to gently brush his thumb against the apple of my cheek. He stared into my eyes almost indulgently, then leaned back, putting distance between us again.

“You had an eyelash,” he said. His warm smile radiated with such sincerity that it left me momentarily speechless. “Come, I reserved two seats in the back for us.” He held out his hand for me to take. Without thought, I placed my hand in his and let him guide me to our classroom.

The art building was bustling with activity as people hustled to get where they needed to go. Orpheus was kind enough to navigate the crowds for me, tugging me along by our clasped hands. He paused in front of the closed door marked 314. With the hand not occupying mine, he opened the door and stood to the side to let me in first.

As I entered, I took in the sight of the students as they settled in their seats, some even chatting lively with their neighbors while they set up their supplies. I felt a hand tenderly touch my lower back as Orpheus pulled me from my thoughts to guide me to the seats he reserved.

“I haven’t been here before, but the flyer said there would be someone to collect our wine orders. I thought since you shared your love of cosmetics with me, I would share my love of wine by bringing a bottle from my collection. However, if it’s not your”—he smirked—“cup of tea, I am happy to pay for any glass of your choosing when the workers come around to collect orders.”

My face instantly melted into a serene smile. I was only a casual drinker, definitely no wine connoisseur, and I had only honestly tried lighter and fruitier wines that one would have during dessert. I nodded my head. “That sounds lovely.”

His eyes lit up in excitement as he pulled out two wine glasses wrapped in delicate fabric and a crystal decanter that was dark in appearance. As quickly and precisely as he could, he popped the cork and poured a good amount of rich red wine at an angle. After he filled up the two glasses, he gently placed one of them in front of me.

The color was mesmerizing, reminding me of the bright blood pooling from a fresh wound during a particularly fun play session. The hitching of my breath caught my attention, so I tried to school my reaction by letting out a soft cough and settling more into my seat. I reached for the stem and let my fingertips graze the cold glass before stopping myself, not wanting to insult him by doing the wrong thing.

“So.” Realizing my voice was too soft, I cleared my airway and tried again, this time speaking with more volume. “Would you be offended if I gulped it?” I smirked to hide my inexperience. Quite frankly, the only wine I had ever had was cheap, and I never thought it important enough to learn the correct way to enjoy the beverage because when would I need to know? But now, being in front of quality wine, if the way he cared for the bottle had any indication, I didn’t want to mess this up. Not in front of a guy I wanted to actually fuck while I considered not adding him to my product line.

His answering chuckle was as warm as his previous smile. “I would be impressed if you knew the right way. The appreciation of the art of wine-making is severely lacking in today’s world. It’s mostly only appreciated by snobs and those too rich to understand the beauty. But nonetheless, the worst thing you can do is put ice in your glass.” He let out an amused puff of air before shrugging his head to his right shoulder. “The only exception to that is, of course, a Sangria or a Tinto de Verano.”

Sangria? I knew what that was! It was one of my go-to drink orders. Embarrassment quickly shadowed my immediate excitement at actually being able to connect with him about this. Everyone knew what a Sangria was. I knew I was allowed to not understand everything, but it felt like a blow to my ego not to know whatever the other drink was.

Before I could respond, a woman in front of the room spoke with her whole chest to get everyone’s attention. She was middle-aged with short spiky hair. I was so wrapped up in Orpheus that I didn’t even notice her there before this.

“Hello, class! It is so lovely to have you join us on such a beautiful evening.” Her voice was airy, with a dreamy tone. “My name is Sarah, and I’ll be here to guide you from once novices to somewhat more knowledgeable painting novices!” She giggled at her joke, and some students, obviously drunk already, laughed along with her. “Today, we will be painting landscapes, so if you’re having difficulty developing a concept, I have provided inspiration at each station. Feel free to mingle and find the picture that truly calls to you.”

Looking behind the easels in front of us, I noticed the pile of pictures placed in the middle of the table and picked a picture at random since I had no desire to wander and mingle with others. As I gazed at the photograph in my hand, I could almost feel the tranquility of the calm lake reflecting the vibrant colors of the setting sun behind the mountains.

That seemed easy enough since it was mostly gradient colors. When I settled my picture next to me, I noticed Orpheus had picked a photo that looked harder than mine. It was a meadow of flowers, full of the delicate queen of the prairie, bright lupines, black-eyed Susans, fresh daisies, and orange daylilies. It was a kind of meadow I wanted to fall into, collecting flowers all day long in hopes of finding a use for every single one that I picked. Even if it was just decorating my wall as they dried. He was unquestionably ambitious for picking that one.

He picked up the glassware by the stem and swirled the red liquid in the glass before he brought the glass up to his nose to inhale. I had heard this was how you were supposed to drink wine, but I had never actually seen it done in person.

He then took a sip, and I could hear him swish it in his mouth before swallowing. He gave a brief hum of satisfaction before realizing I was watching him.

“I could help teach you if you want. But regardless of my knowledge, you don’t need to do what I do to enjoy the glass. I promise you. You can do whatever is most comfortable,” he offered.

That made me feel a little better, and I could even feel my posture relax just a slight bit. I didn’t even realize I was that worried.

“I would love to learn from the best.”

His chuckle, deep and throaty, ignited a fire in the pit of my stomach. He placed the glass back on the table before coming up behind me. I was very aware of every move he made behind me as he gently pushed my hair to one side, and I could feel the coolness of his skin gliding against mine.

Why was he so cold? That wasn’t normal.

I would even consider his temperature to be frostbite-worthy. The feel of his hard body pressing against my back made me sit up straighter on my stool, completely distracting me from my line of thinking. The weight of him on me felt so good and comforting. His breath tickled my exposed neck, from which he had brushed my hair away.

“The best way to pick up a glass of wine is from the stem. That way, your hand doesn’t warm up the wine, and it can stay cooler for longer.” As my hand shook, a sudden tightness in my throat made my breath catch. He was so close to me. Why did I feel so safe with him pressed so hard against me? And where was his body heat? It felt like I was warming him, not that we were sharing warmth.

“When you swirl the wine, it aerates the aromas so you can catch the different notes of each batch. But make sure not to open your mouth when you breathe in. That way, you don’t lose those notes. Go ahead, see what you catch.” Inhaling his woodsy cologne, I noted that I’d never smelt anything like it. Was it homemade?

With my hand trembling, I cautiously reached for the glass by the stem. He immediately grabbed my hand, providing a steady anchor as we swirled the wine in the glass with our fingers intertwined. I couldn’t help but feel the blush heating my face as the butterflies in my stomach grew more intense. He brought the glass up to my nose, and I took a deep breath in, making sure my mouth was shut not just because of his instructions but because I knew if I had my mouth open, I’d probably let out a moan at the intimacy.

“Raspberries… vanilla… currant… and leather?” I tried to identify all the smells enveloping my senses. I did quite like this part. It reminded me of perfume or candle making, with notes overlapping each other to make a symphony of beauty.

“Exactly right, you’re a natural,” he purred against my ear, and I had to press my thighs tightly against each other for some friction. My underwear was absolutely ruined at this point.

“Leather means it was stored and aged in oak. It has some of the tannins from the barrel. I’m really happy that you caught that.” He nuzzled my hair. “Now, when you take a sip, swish it in your mouth before swallowing so the taste stays on your pallet a little longer.”

We brought the glass to my lips, and I sipped the still chilled liquid. I immediately tasted the raspberries, followed by the currant and vanilla. As I swallowed, the liquid heated my inside, warming my stomach, and I relaxed slightly against him. It was good, really good.

I didn’t know if it was my pussy talking or what, but despite the glaring warning signs, this man was mine. And judging by the way he pressed up against me on our first date, he knew it, too. Now that I had my nails in him, he was never escaping.

I dared him to try.