Private Message (5 page)

I got to sleep in this Monday morning for once, because I didn't have a shift at the coffee shop. It's just as well. I'm too distracted. I can't stop seeing the image of Big_Ben's sexy smile as he left Chatz with that other girl. I had some tea. I cranked up my music and busted out my paints. I sang, I danced around, and I got paint all over. How exactly one get paint in their armpit?

Before I know it, it's time to get to class. Seeing as we are continuing with the beefcake of a man from last week, and I am determined to not be late today! I want a better spot and a better view. I got dressed in my black and red striped skinny jeans and my cute black peplum top with a thin red belt and my over the knee boots. Yeah, I may be trying a lot for this class, but why not? I threw on a little mascara and lip gloss.

In the parking lot, I see a few of my female classmates also got a little dressed up, probably trying to catch the attention of the dark-haired hunk. Well, at least I'm not the only one. But what was I thinking, that I could even compare to the girls in my class?

Inside, I see a spot in the front. Score! I don't see the model yet, but I pass Ms. Sawyer coming towards the classroom. "Ah, Tess, I am glad to see you on time!"

To calm myself down I decided to put one ear bud in and turn on my iPod. Music is the only calming thing except for wine and rum, and I am pretty sure that's frowned upon on school property.

Ms. S instructs us to begin.

I look up.

I let out a big gasp, and then he looks right at me...

It's him! Holy crap, it's Big_Ben! What the hell?! Oh my effing God! And he's naked!
Well, duh dummy! That's why you're here! To DRAW him!

He looks as shocked as I am. But I am not looking away. My eyes begin to travel and he notices when I stop below his waist. He is sitting partially upright, leaning his upper body up against what looks like an overstuffed beanbag chair, probably from Ms. S's own house.

The lower part of his body is bent at the waist and one leg is arched, with his knee towards the ceiling, where the other is bent, but lying on the table. And there
he
is. Right. In. The. Open. I can't move, I can't look away, but then I hear a throat clearing and I look up at his face, and he winks at me. Holy crap, he just winked at me! I know my face is red, I can feel it. I can also feel the heat from my cheeks spread down my body. I quickly look down at my sketchbook, pick up one of my pencils, and attempt to look anywhere but
there
. So I start with his head, and when I look up at him he is still looking at me! How am I going to do this for an hour?

So I just start. I don't make eye contact but I can feel his eyes on me the entire time. His body is slender but sculpted, and the tattoos that I had noticed during last week's class carry over to his pecs. He also has art on the outer parts of his forearms. His abs are defined, but not bulging, with a happy little trail leading down to his, well…impressive size. And I swear as I am looking at him there attempting to focus and do him justice, I think I see him twitch… all sixty minutes of the class.

When Ms. S tells us that our time is up, I look down at my drawing and I am quite pleased with it. I got the shading and proportions right on. The only thing I didn't finish was his face; I just couldn't bring myself to look up at his face, knowing he was looking at me the entire time. I close my sketchbook and pack up my pencils as fast as I can, while this amazingly gorgeous man hops down from the table. Most of the class has already left, minus a few of the other girls, who are watching him grab a sheet to wrap around his waist.

"Benjamin, will you wait a moment before taking off?" Ms. S asks him. He nods and walks over to the corner.

As I am about to leave, Ms. S asks the same of me. Why oh why can't I just escape?

"Tess, will you show me your sketch, please?" I oblige. She studies it for a moment and says, "Benjamin, you can go on into the back room and get dressed, but don't leave just yet, please."

She takes my book and looks it over. "I knew you had it in you, Tess! This is outstanding! Although I see you haven't finished the face. I noticed you avoiding it earlier, so that's why I have asked you to stay behind."

Crap. Where is she going with this?

He walks out from the back room in a pair of jeans, a light gray fitted V-neck tee, and black boots, carrying the same black leather jacket he was wearing at Chatz on Friday night. He's heading for the door. But Ms. S steps in front of him. "Ben, I would like to have you stay for a few extra minutes so one of my students can finish her sketch. All she needs is to observe your face." As she stops talking she looks over at me across the room.

His eyes shoot to mine and I die. No really, my heart just stopped. OK, not really, but it certainly feels like it did. "Ben, this is Tess, one of my most talented students, so this is why I would like her to finish her piece," Ms. S explains, handing him my sketchbook. Crap.

"Of course, Gwen, that's fine." Oh God he's British! Can my panties drop any faster? He has a wicked grin as he looks down at my drawing of him, studies it for a second, and walking towards me. Holy crap, he's stalking towards me…I think I need fresh panties. Oh. My. God.

"Hi, I'm Ben." He extends his right hand, waiting for me to return the gesture. I fumble with my bag and drop it. As I bend to pick it up, he reaches it first, stands, and hands it back to me. I set it in the chair next to me and turn back to him.

"I believe this is yours." He's handing my book back to me.

I blush. "Thanks. Um, I'm..." I take my sketchbook.

"Punky_Painter?" he asks me with a wink.

And I come back with, "Big_Ben? Seriously?" I look down to his pants and shrug a little, not that I have seen many—OK, none till now, except in a movie or two. But I'd best be keeping him on his toes.

He smirks and says, "Yeah, well…" I have no idea what to say to that.

He sits in front of where I am sitting about a foot away. Yeah, kind of close. Ugh, he smells so good… "I guess I'll just sit pretty 'til you finish your drawing. And I want to thank you for doing me justice in my boys' department," he adds, sounding cocky.

I just sit and blush. And draw. What do you say to a complete sex god sitting in front of you and you have all the rights in the world to stare at him and do what you love best—create? Hmm...wonder if he'd mind if I put my headphones in. Can't hurt to ask...

"Do you mind if I listen to some music?" I ask shyly.

"No, of course not. How long do you think you need to stare at my face? No rush or anything, I was just curious." Wow, he's being kind? I stand and pull my iPod out of my back pocket. I can feel his eyes scan over my body and I feel my knees start to shake, so I quickly sit my butt back down. I unravel my headphone cords and just as I am about to pop the buds in my ears, he speaks up.

"Oh you're not going to let me listen?" He asks with a little bit of a pouty face. It melts my heart. I don't know how serious he's being right now, but either way I like it a little better than purposely trying to embarrass me.

I look right into his eyes. "Well, I don't know what kind of music you like and I don't want to sicken you and make your face scrunch up while I am trying to draw it."

"Try me," he challenges. Oh really, I would like to. Maybe run my tongue from the tip if your chin and taste that freshly grown stubble down your neck, then make my way all the way down to that happy little trail of yours…
Snap out of it, girl!
Fine, if he wants to play this game I will play too. Hmm…what playlist to put on…let's see how he likes a little bit of Britney, bitch! I click onto the play list and hit play. The song "Womanizer" comes up first and I think he's about to piss himself by the look on his face! Oh, this is too funny! He chuckles and shakes his head and just when I think he's about to protest he surprises me.

"You're a womanizer oh, womanizer oh, womanizer baby..." And he keeps humming with the tune! Holy shit! He knows Britney songs! Oh, I did not expect that and he can tell I am shocked off my rocker.

"I wouldn't have taken you as a Britney fan," I tell him, without looking up from my work.

"I wouldn't have guessed you were one either," he shoots back, "although I can never tell when it comes to girls. But then again everything about you so far surprises me." Huh. I didn't expect that answer. I guess my mystery level is satisfactory. Erin would be proud. He's coming off as honest, not like the bad boy his appearance gives off. But I'm not going to let that take the lead. I don't trust easily and with good reason. If he wants in he's going to have to beg and prove himself worthy…that is, if he even wants to...

"So why the message on Friday night? Didn't you leave with someone? That couldn't have made her too happy to see you messaging someone else, because I know if it were me..."
Shut up Tess! Shut Up! You're rambling again! Why did you have so much tea before class? You know what caffeine does to you and your mouth!

He interrupts me by simply smiling. I am now mush. Oh wow. Yup, I am a total girl right now. "So who told you I don't do private messages?"

"Well, a newfound friend from Chatz. She kind of had to explain the whole setup to me," I confess.

He lets out a breath, and I put my pencil back to the paper. "Well, your friend is right, I don't do private messages. Ever. I just don't see the point. If I just want to fuck and they just want to fuck, why be so private about it? I mean, why do we have to kid ourselves into thinking it's something special and private? If I leave with a girl, then people already know that we are about to go hook up, so why hide it even in the beginning?"

"Oh," is all I can muster up. He just sits quietly. I'm not so much in the mood for Britney anymore, so I pick up my iPod and hand it to him. That's as private as you can get with me. Why shouldn't I be a little more giving? He just told me that he doesn't do private anything, and yet he did with me.

He looks me in the eyes and back down at the device in my hand. "You sure?" He looks a little leery.

"Go ahead, whatever you want to listen to." This is my own little challenge to see what he's into. He takes it and begins scrolling through my large collection. Looking impressed he hits a button, and "Girls and Boys" from Good Charlotte begins to fill the air. I snort. Of course he would pick a song that talks about how guys like girls who fake and made of plastic, but who cares as long as they are gorgeous and are willing to put out.

"What?" He laughs and shrugs.

I shake my head and mumble, "I bet you do." He squints his eyes and looks completely serious for a moment but before he can open his mouth I continue "I saw the girls at the bar, total plastic bimbos, especially the ones you seemed to be, for lack of better words, really chatty with." Oh, I got him on that one.

His jaw snaps open "Oh I see. You think you know me by one measly song choice and the fact that I was talking to a few women in a chat room? How fair is that?"

Great, now I feel like crap. He goes on, "… and if you listen to the song you'd hear how girls will take whatever they can get from a guy and don't give a shit about them. Did you ever stop to think that maybe those girls were using me?" Whoa! That came out of nowhere! "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to jump on you like that. I don't know why I did."

"I'm sorry I assumed," I say, finish the drawing, and pack up. He's rubbing his face with his hands like he's exasperated. "Thank you for staying long enough to let me finish, and again sorry I said anything."

"Look, I don't talk about myself much, and people assume way too much about me. They have my whole life, but it wasn't right of me to jump down your throat." He drops his head and shakes it for a moment. I start to walk for the door, and he's quickly at my back.

"Can I help you?" I ask him, without turning around. He lightly touches my elbow and chills shoot through me. My body is hit with a wild fire. I slowly turn to face him.
Yep, mush
. He's so close I can feel his breath on my face. He puts his hands on the door jamb next to both sides of my face and leans into me, but avoids touching me.

With his eyes closed, he says, "I don't know. Can you?"