"So let me get this straight. You walked into an art show one night, met the artist and fucked her that same night?" Dean looked at his best friend.
"And in the paint," Seth chuckled.
"She was painting me and we just ended up rolling around in it. It was actually pretty damn hot because when she turned off the lights, our bodies lit up in that glow in the dark paint," Roman said.
"And that was one year ago, right?" Seth asked.
"Right," Roman answered.
"And now you're taking us to see her new show. Somehow I doubt you're going back there for the art," Dean laughed.
Roman grinned at the memory. Primrose was a talented artist. He had gone to see her show. Everyone saw her paintings in light first and then she turned off the lights and they glowed up with secret pictures no one had spotted before. It was a beautiful idea, only topped by her own beauty.
Ginger red hair, soft brown eyes, skin as tasteful and delicious as the most fruity Summer wine. He had tasted all of it, all of her, and over the last year he had often thought about her. He had no idea if she would remember him though or if she often brought people back home after a show like that. He could only hope he had been a special, chosen one.
"We're here," he said.
"It's packed," Dean looked in through the open door.
"What can I say? She's amazing. People travel far to see her work," Roman said.
They walked inside and looked at the abstract paintings. Roman remembered this part. The paintings were new but he knew it would be the same deal as last year. Once the room fell into darkness, secret pictures would be revealed.
"Welcome to my glow in the dark show," a voice spoke in a microphone.
He looked up at her standing at a little podium. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her hair had gotten longer and her freckles were beautifully on display in the spotlight that was on her.
"Have you all seen all the paintings?" She asked.
"Yes," everyone answered.
"Well, then," she put on a sideways smile. "Hit the light."
The room fell into darkness and Roman's jaw dropped. He hadn't been expecting that.
"That's you," Seth whispered.
Beautiful pictures of him on each paintings. His long hair flowing around, two bodies moving together, their night of passion on display in every painting. They told a story, painting after painting showing hour after hour of that night. Everyone clapped and cheered, not knowing that the source to it all was right among them. The light came back on and he looked towards the podium but she was gone. He spun around and nearly tripped over his own feet when he found her standing right behind him.
"Hi Roman," she smiled.
"Primrose," he blushed a little. "Your work is amazing."
"You're not mad?" She asked.
"Mad? How can I be mad at something like this? You've immortalized our night together. I don't care what anybody in here offers you, you're selling me the entire collection. I'll double whatever price they're offering," he said.
"We're just gonna head to the bar," Dean said.
His two friends stepped away to give Roman and Primrose a bit of privacy.
"Friends or family?" She asked.
"My two best friends although they're like brothers to me," he answered.
"You're going home with them?" She asked.
"We're sharing a hotel room. Why?" He asked.
"I'd like to repeat our night," she tilted her head. "You know, to get started on my next collection."
"Right! Because that's the only reason," he laughed. "I'd love to spent another night with you. Let me just go tell them goodbye."
He went to Seth and Dean to tell them what was going on while Primrose found her assistant and made sure he would lock up for her. 15 minutes later Roman found himself back inside her house, pinning her against the wall while kissing her.
"I never stopped thinking about you," he confessed as he pulled her dress off.
"Same here," she opened his pants. "Do you have to leave tomorrow morning?"
"No, I got all day. We got a show here," he said.
"Spend the day with me?" She asked.
"There's nothing I'd rather do," he grinned and lifted her up. "Well, there is something and I'm about to do it because in a minute I'll have you on your back on your bed and I'm gonna fuck you until you go blind."
"Not my eyes!" She laughed. "I can't paint without them."
"Fine, I'm gonna fuck you until you can't walk. You can paint in a wheelchair, right?" He chuckled.
He carried her to the bedroom, threw her down on the bed and tore her underwear off. His own clothes followed before moving up to join her on the bed, settling between her legs, kissing the life out of her while pushing into her.
"You're fucking drenched," he smirked.
"A year without you," she moaned. "I'm in desperate need."
"I got you," he promised.
His thrusts came hard but not overly fast although he set a good pace. He laced their fingers together, holding her hands down, kissing her, biting, sucking, anything he could think of while fucking her. She cried out a few minutes later while he continued. He had to hear it again, several times if he could get away with it. He heard her two more times, feeling how her walls squeezed him perfectly, before he gave in to his own release as well.
"You're beautiful," he rolled down next to her and pulled her into his arms. "No painting can ever do you justice."
"Funny. I feel the same about you but I did give it my best try," she said.
"Those paintings are perfect. I love that I mattered enough for you to do that," he said.
"I've never done that before," she said.
"I feel so special," he pulled her closer to kiss her.
"You are special," she whispered against his lips.