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"Are you anywhere near finished yet?" Caroline tried desperately not to whine, but it was damn near impossible. There were pins and needles in her left leg and a freaking cold breeze in a place there was never meant to be a cold breeze.

"Half-way," he glanced up from his easel; drew a bold line.

"Half-way," she rolled her eyes up and to the right, catching a glimpse of his knee. "You're only half-way done! What the hell have you been doing for the past three hours?"

"Sketching," he focused on the paper.

"Last week you sketched a perfect rendition of Stefan in thirty minutes," she glared at the ceiling.

"I'm taking my time," he cleared his throat and ran his gaze over the curve of her breast, shading the drawing. "You've been in this class for weeks, you know that some sketches take more time than others, love."

"I've also noticed that yours have never taken that long," she rolled her eyes. "Is 'taking my time' your way of saying 'I've been ogling you for hours'?"

"I resent the implication that I would ogle," he scoffed. "I do not ogle sweetheart; I appreciate when beauty is laid bare before me."

She risked twisting her neck enough so she could watch the smirk and staring a moment too long; whatever, if he asked she would say she was appreciating his dimples.

"You're ogling."

"Appreciating," he insisted.

"Whatever," she looked up at the ceiling fan, "less appreciating and more sketching."

"As you wish, love," he chuckled, "but don't try to tell me we wouldn't be in this very position if our roles were reversed."

She tried, she really tried, but she was incapable of stopping the image of a naked Klaus posing for her flickered to life. And it had the nerve to linger.

"I doubt we'll ever find out since you never volunteer to model," she enunciated carefully to mask the thoughts she feared would leak into her tone.

"Maybe I'll follow your lead and surprise everyone," he murmured. "Not that I'm complaining love, because you make a wonderful model, but what prompted your sudden confidence?"

"Not that it's any of your business," she turned to look at him, "but I lost a bet."

"You volunteered to model nude because you lost a bet?" He met her eyes.

"I honor my bets," she shifted.

"Don't move your legs," he chided, adding some shading to her calve. "What was the bet?"

"Elena said I couldn't do a cartwheel after we went out drinking with Bonnie and Damon," she pursed her lips. "If I had pulled it off then she would have been the one modeling today."

"Aren't you on the cheerleading team?" He frowned.

"We both are," her fingers itched to rub at the goose flesh on her thigh. "And under normal circumstances I can do sixteen in a row, but…" colour rose in her cheeks, and looking down she saw it spread over the tops of her breasts, "… it gets decidedly more difficult after drinking with Damon. I fell flat on my ass."

"I see," he focused on the page.

Caroline suspected he was hiding a grin.

"Don't laugh at me!"

"I'm not."

His tone said he was.

"It's not funny!" She crossed her arms. He didn't complain about the sudden move, so she knew he was finished with her upper body – after three freaking hours.

"Who said it was funny?" She could hear the mirth in his tone.

"Stop laughing," she scowled. "I've got a bruise."

"Shall I soothe it for you?" He cocked an eyebrow, placing his stick of charcoal on the ledge of his easel.

"Are you finished sketching?"

"I finished a few minutes ago."

"And you're just now telling me!" She swung around, leaping to her feet and instantly swaying as the blood rushed back into her left leg. "Remind me not to pose with one leg over the back of a sofa again."

"Oh, but it created such a lovely view," he leaned back, taking a moment to appreciate the full view of her body before she could reach for her robe.

"Not overly comfortable though," she cinched the white material around her waist. "And I still have to do the assignment," she groaned at the thought.

"Who shall be your model?" He smirked.

"I haven't decided yet," she chewed her bottom lip.

"Shall I surprise you?" He stood, reaching for the hem of his shirt.

"What? Now?" Her heart thundered behind her ribs when he dropped his shirt on the floor.

"What's wrong with now?"

She chewed her lip, lifting her eyes from the tattoo she wanted to reach out and touch to his dimples, glowing behind golden stubble.

"There's just one little problem with that suggestion," she tilted her head.

"And what's that?"

"The school has a pretty strict policy on turning in anything vaguely pornographic," she smirked, glancing towards the bulge in his jeans. "Is that why it took you so long to finish my sketch? Not enough blood in your hands because of your little problem?"

"There is nothing 'little' about this problem, sweetheart." He followed the line of her eyes down, and his smirk did things to her insides that she would later tell Elena and Bonnie all about, but for now it was all she could do to remain on her feet.

"I still can't draw you like that," she shook her head. If she hadn't taken a break a half hour ago she might have been anxious to get out of the studio, but as it was the feeling had returned to her foot and his current state was doing things to her confidence.

There were some guys in the class who got a little aroused during figure drawing when the model was attractive, and some girls too – she was guilty of being one of them – but he had never been one to let it affect him. He was usually one of the first to finish – normally she found that infuriating since she had to spend nearly twenty minutes perfectly shading a knee.

"Would you like some help with that not 'little problem'?" She took a bold step forward, and made an even bolder move by trailing her finger over his abs – the grooves would take forever to shade just right, but she wouldn't mind practicing tracing with her tongue. "I could draw you after."

"That depends," he snagged her waist with one hand, tugging at the robes tie with the other. "It that a serious offer?"

Her robe fell open, revealing the valley between her breasts.

"Was yours?" She hooked a finger behind his belt buckle and pressed her body against his chest. "If not I'm sure Elena would be more than willing to pose for me."

He pulled her roughly against him, dragging one large hand up to cup her cheek gently. He could feel her heart beating rapidly, and bent to nip at her fluttering pulse point.

She melted into his arms. Her voice came out in a sigh.

"Does that mean Elena's not stripping for me?"