Stroke By Stroke

By Em Jay

A handsome, successful artist sees a beautiful woman and is instantly obsessed with painting her. Soon though, painting her isn't enough as he begins to crave her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Em Jay
• Release date: Jun 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201359720

Book preview

1: Magenta

THE WORLD WAS BLACK AND WHITE. He had no inspiration, the world a depressing mix of grays and monochrome. Desaturated blues, that he couldn't distinguish. He couldn't seem to distinguish the sky from the ground, himself from the rest of the wretched portrait of misery.

He stared at his primed canvas. It was blank. He'd tried everything. A different background, a different texture. He'd tried adding other elements, painting from reference.

Nothing. Nothing. He had nothing. His blood was cold, his pulse weak and thready as his creativity clung to life.

He clenched his jaw looking away from the canvas with a huff, lighting a cigarette. Something was missing. Inside him, something was missing. He looked out the window. At this point, he was not above praying for something—anything to inspire him.

He was very close to drugs. A mushroom. A hint of cocaine. All the greats did it right?

Maybe he could hurt himself. If he came close to death, surely inspiration would be lying in wait, ready for him to harness and force upon the canvas.

I'm late!

A gust of wind put his cigarette out, as his gaze became transfixed on her.

Her.

She was rushing, her curls in the wind behind her, heels just a bit too big, for some reason, and far too high. Her skirt was short. She struggled to pull it down with a curse.

Look at me.

His stomach turned. He needed to see her. He had to. There was no way he could pass up on this. She was his Mona Lisa, just what he needed.

She gazed up in his direction. His breath left his lungs in a flood. Her dark eyes showed a glimmer of brown in the light as she squinted, the sun illuminating her skin, her full lips shiny from gloss.

He licked his lips, quickly picking up his paintbrush. Her skin. Her expression. Her body. He needed to get it down. He couldn't decide what was more important, memorizing her now, or putting her on canvas before he forgot the details of her.

The beauty marks on her face, the way her curls formed, those lips. The curve of her hips, the softness of her, she looked so soft.

Her thighs, her ass, the way her body fit against the fabric, the way the wind whipped around her form. She took form in front of him, as he outlined her curvature, moving onto the placement of her nose, eyes, and lips.

The Artist watched her take shape, his dick twitching his pants, as he took his bottom lip between his teeth pensively, carving out every detail.

Fuck, he murmured to himself, as he doted her beauty marks on. One by her mouth. One by her brow.

Her expression was interesting. He smiled softly, mixing the perfect color for her skin. The yellows, reds and blues that made her. He stood for hours, trying to get her just right.

It wasn't doing her justice. He had to find another way to see her again. The sun rose as he finished the painting. He grinned.

He had to find a way to see her again. He wanted to do a series on her. She was his new muse.

2: Crimson

KARINA STARED AT THE advertisement. A model huh? She could use some extra money. Her eyes darted to her phone as it rang. She picked it up, hastily putting it to her ear.

Yeah?

Karina, I hate to do this but rent is due.

She closed her eyes with a frown. Yeah, gotcha Ms. Howell. Thanks for the heads up.

She sighed, looking up at the advertisement once more. A model for a painter. She looked at the flier carefully. Everett Gray was the artist attached. Everett Gray...she heard of him, she thought. She took the number from the edge of the flier, hurrying to her class.

She had a shift at the diner. She pulled her hair up into a puff, looking up. She had a class, and then a shift at the diner, and then, maybe if she had a moment she could get a painting out.

She looks down at the crumpled paper in her bag, her stomach-turning. She pulled out her phone searching for Everett Gray. It might just be an excuse to traffic her, she mused to herself.

Everett Gray...an alumnus, and a famous artist. His work was in galleries all over the world. A smile spread along her face. This was a great opportunity. And it would look perfect on her resume!

Karina called the number as she hurried to her next class.

Hello? Is this the office of Everett Gray?

A low smoky voice came from the other end, making her stop in her tracks.

So formal. Yes, this is Everett Gray. Are you calling regarding my ad?

Karina shivered at the depth of his voice. Was this him? The famed Everett Gray, genius artist?

Um, yes. Yes! She shifted in place. To be clear, is this a class I'd be modeling for?

There's a pause. No. You'd be modeling just for me, he replied lowly. Is that something you're comfortable with?

Is it? Just for him? By themselves? His voice was so deep and sure. He sounded older than her. How old was he again? She should've read his Wikipedia page more closely.

Hello? He prompted her.

Karina looked around. Sorry! Um, where would this modeling take place?

I'd prefer to work in my studio, but if you have a place in mind, I'll let you decide.

He hadn't asked her any questions. Shouldn't there be an interview or something like that? His voice tied her stomach in knots.

Understood. I'll need to send a headshot or something right?

Yes. I'll give you my email. Send me a headshot. Your name, and your availability. I'll get in touch with you with a decision in a few days. He instructed.

Will do, thanks!

One more thing, he said abruptly. What is your name?

I'm Karina. I hope to hear from you soon, she said softly.

The line clicked. Everett