She leaned in first. Her lips found his jaw, then the corner of his mouth. He waited—respectfully, impossibly—until she pressed harder. Then his hand slid to the small of her back, and the kiss deepened.
Elena found herself laughing. Actually laughing. Not the polite, tired laugh she used at parent-teacher conferences.
“You already did,” Elena replied, stepping out. “In the dark. It was the best portrait I’ve never seen.”
“Tell me if you want to stop,” he breathed. MILF y el placer esta en ella.
Up close, he smelled of turpentine, sweat, and something sweet like mango.
“Remembering what?”
And for the first time in twelve years, since before the divorce, since she became “Valeria’s mom” instead of just Elena , she answered honestly. She leaned in first
Then the lights flickered and died completely. Total darkness.
She turned, touched his cheek, and smiled—a real, full, dangerous smile.
“Great,” she muttered.
“I’ve been stopping for a decade,” she said. “I’m done stopping.” When the lights came back an hour later—flickering, then steady—they were both disheveled, sitting side by side, shoulders touching. Elena’s blouse was untucked. Lucas had a lipstick smudge on his collarbone.
She felt his hand brush hers in the dark. Not a grab. A question.
“So,” he said, “do I get to paint you sometime?” Then his hand slid to the small of
“Don’t what?”
In the dark, he guided her hand to his chest. His heart was pounding too. Good, she thought. He’s not pretending to be calm either.