Coffee and Portraits

"You get really tight before you cum," he smiled.

"You get really hard," I groaned as pleasure began to steal my breath.

I cried out and shook as an orgasm worked through my cunt.

"You're so fucking hot, Sam," Caleb panted.

Then he pounded me through the orgasm until he couldn't take it anymore. He grunted and pushed deep inside me as his body tensed. I loved feeling his cum pouring into me as he shook with pleasure. We were panting and sweating when we finally relaxed.

"Mmm, good morning, Caleb," I sighed and ran my fingers through his hair.

"It is a very good morning," he agreed as he snuggled against my breasts.

"How long do we have until we're interrupted?"

"Ten more minutes maybe, then coffee time."

"I've never had anyone bring me coffee before. I'm usually the one making it."

"Will Lesley be stressed without you?"

"I hope not. I told her I might be late this morning."

"Oh, now I get it. You were planning to seduce me the whole time," Caleb grinned.

"The thought crossed my mind. Even with Rusty terrorizing me this morning, this has been the most romantic sleepover of my life. Thank you for that."

"This entire week has been a pleasant dream for me, and it keeps getting better. I'm scared I'm going to wake up and realize I dreamed you," he whispered and ran his fingers through my hair.

"Are you always this romantic?" I chuckled.

"I don't know. I guess," he shrugged.

Our pillow talk continued for another five minutes, then we decided to get up and dress before Rusty discovered me naked again. As promised, Rusty delivered us two delicious cups of coffee from Lesley's shop, then he gracefully bowed out so we could enjoy the rest of our morning together. I decided to show off my mediocre cooking skills by preparing some eggs and toast while Caleb started another painting. I had to drag him away from the canvas to make him eat. He complimented my cooking as he devoured it. Then he pulled me back into the studio with him for another modeling session. He ordered me to strip so he could position me on the makeshift bed again. Then he got straight to work. I couldn't stop smiling as I watched him color the canvas blue, black, white, and gray. It was definitely going to be a moonlight painting, but I couldn't see it yet.

"Do you actually need to look at me to make the portrait?"

"Not really. I have your features memorized, but having you here naked while I paint is thrilling. It's almost as good as sex."

"Seriously?"

He stopped painting and looked at me for a moment.

"I see your point."

He quickly put his paintbrush down, stripped, and joined me on the makeshift bed. I chuckled as he climbed over me for a passionate kiss. We had sex on and off for the next three hours. As lunchtime approached, our lovemaking moved to the shower so we could clean up for work.

Lesley smiled and rolled her eyes when I stepped into the shop in a little black dress and knee-high black boots. The last two hours of my shift would be stylish and uncomfortable. The shop closed at two-thirty in the afternoon, but I stayed late to help clean up. Lesley begged for details about my Valentine's date. She had already guessed most of it. We laughed about the incident with Rusty as we locked up the shop at three. I bid farewell to Lesley and headed for the subway. As I made my way down the steps, a man bumped my shoulder and knocked me off balance. Thankfully, he grabbed me before I fell down the stairwell.

"Be careful, miss. Don't damage those beautiful legs," he said as he helped me straighten up.

"God, thank you. That was close," I panted as I met his pretty blue eyes.

He looked familiar for some reason, even with the rest of his face hidden behind a dark blue mask.

"It was too close. Sorry for bumping you. Have a good evening," he nodded and continued up the steps.

I stared after him for a moment, freaked out by what happened and how familiar his blue eyes were. I couldn't help noticing his finely tailored suit, shoes, and wool coat. In my opinion, he dressed way too fancy to be taking the subway. I eventually shook off the incident and continued down to catch my train, but I quickly discovered my purse was open, and a few items were missing.

"Fuck! I've been robbed!" I exclaimed and dashed back up the stairs to find the handsome stranger.

My mind was spinning as I emerged on the sidewalk and searched the sea of unfamiliar faces. He was likely long gone by that point.

"How the fuck can a pickpocket afford to dress like that?" I growled.

I searched my purse to see what was missing. My phone, wallet, and keys were gone. He even took my cherry lip balm.

"Fuck," I whimpered.

My heart was racing as I looked around in confusion. I was nowhere near a police station, and I didn't see any patrol cars, but I did have a few friends close by. It was time to visit Caleb again. Thankfully, the receptionist from the previous night had just arrived for her shift when I walked into the building. She recognized me and gave me a new key card after I told her what had happened. She called Caleb and told him to retrieve me from the lobby since I had just been robbed and was shaking like a leaf. I was actually shaking because I was freezing. My outfit was too skimpy for February temperatures, but I didn't complain about her motherly kindness. Caleb darted out of the elevator a few minutes later and scooped me into his arms.

"Thank God you're alright," he breathed as he crushed me against his chest.

"I'm fine, Caleb, just cold and missing some important stuff."

He seemed more shaken by the incident than I was. He interrogated me in the elevator, asking me if I had been hurt, traumatized, or molested. I assured him I was fine and only needed to warm up and rest my feet. My toes felt like ice and probably had blisters by that point.

"It was so weird, Caleb. The man dressed as nice as Rusty. Why would someone like that want my crappy phone and an empty wallet?" I sighed as the elevator dinged.

The doors slid open and revealed the hallway between the penthouses. I was surprised to see a familiar-looking man standing at the opposite end. It was the well-dressed pickpocket. He reached into his coat and pulled out a gun, and I gasped in absolute horror. I finally realized who the man was. It was Bruce Fowler, Rusty's mortal enemy, and he was there to murder Caleb. Bruce didn't want my stuff. He wanted the penthouse key card.

"No!" I shrieked.

I dived to the right, crashing into Caleb as bullets flew into the elevator. Searing heat tore across my shoulder blade as we fell against the wall. I kept my wits about me and hit the button to close the elevator doors. Then I hit a few more buttons to send us down. I could barely move my arm. My strength was gone as I struggled to get air into my lungs.

"Who the fuck was that?" Caleb cried as he pulled me into his arms.

"I think it was Bruce Fowler," I coughed.

The burning pain in my shoulder resonated into my chest with each breath.

"Sam, your back is wet... Sam? SAM!"

The world went black after that. Then I was haunted by nightmares. The city was dark and covered in snow as a man chased Caleb and me through empty streets. Everywhere we ran, he would appear behind us, wielding a gun and never letting us rest. The nightmares eventually eased, and my mind went to a better place. I found myself in Caleb's apartment. He was working hard on another portrait as I relaxed on a bed of pillows with a glass of wine. He eventually set his brush down and looked at me, wearing a thoughtful smile.

"I wish you would wake up, Sam," he whispered.

"Why?" I groaned, suddenly feeling exhausted.

"Sam?" called a few different voices, startling me out of my dream.

My eyelids felt weighted as I struggled to get them open. The room was blurry, but I could see people around me, and someone was squeezing my hand.

"Thank God, Sam," Caleb breathed to my right.

His handsome face came into view first, and the tears in his eyes worried me.

"What happened?" I whispered. My voice had no volume.

He pulled my hand to his lips and kissed it. I could tell by his breathing he was holding back a flood of emotion. Seeing him like that wrecked me. I didn't understand why he was so upset.

"Sam, what do you remember?" Rusty asked, pulling my attention to him.

He was sitting in a chair to my left. A beautiful red-haired woman was sitting on his lap. She was wearing a mask, but I knew it was Scarlet. Her and Rusty's faces had been plastered all over the news for almost two years when I first moved to New York.

"The man in the hall had a gun. Was it Fowler?" I whispered.

"Likely," Rusty sighed. "He was unexpectedly released on good behavior last month. We had no clue he was out until now. I'm sure the psychopath bribed his way out somehow. The security footage for our entire building was sabotaged. He didn't leave anything for us to use against him. The police are still looking for him. I don't know how he planned this so fast."

"I do," Caleb whispered.

He was still cradling my hand to his lips. Tears were slowly dripping down his cheeks. I wanted to embrace him, but I was exhausted. Keeping my eyes open was a workout. Raising up was out of the question.

"I was so absorbed with Sam last week, I missed my scheduled inspection of the security system. I practically invited him in. This is my fault."

"No, it isn't, Caleb," Scarlet huffed. "Nobody saw this coming. Just because you understand how he did it doesn't mean tonight would have played out differently. In fact, he might have done something worse if he realized you were onto him again. He saw a cheap shot, and he took it. He has murdered people that way before. You can't blame yourself for the terrible things he does. It doesn't help anything."

Caleb took a deep breath and nodded. Scarlet's scolding seemed to deflate some of his anxiety, but he still looked crushed.

"What's the damage?" I whispered, looking at Rusty.

He wasn't a stranger to gunshot wounds. Part of me didn't want to know what happened. I would be in debt for it, for sure.

"You didn't lose as much blood as I did when I got shot, but it was still heroic," Rusty said proudly. "You took the bullet that was aimed at Caleb's heart. There's no doubt you saved his life. Your shoulder blade was busted, and your C4 vertebra was cracked in the process. You have a nasty bullet trail across your upper back, too. Breathing will be painful for a few days, but you'll make a full recovery."

A few tears escaped my eyes as he announced the verdict. I was proud I saved Caleb. I would have never forgiven myself had anything happened to him because of me.

"Sorry, I let him in," I whispered and made a weak attempt to squeeze Caleb's hand.

He shook his head and carefully leaned in and cradled my face. I fell asleep from exhaustion as he kissed the tears from my eyes.

I had more strength and pain the next morning. Recovery was a bitch. Lesley and my roommates masked up and visited me often, so did Rusty and Scarlet. Caleb practically lived with me at the hospital and acted as my in-room nurse. He kept his laptop with him as the search for Bruce Fowler heated up. Caleb's focus was split between helping me and finding Fowler so he could personally kill him. He only voiced that last desire to me. I made sure Caleb ate and slept when he wasn't hyper-focused on something else. I wanted to see him draw and paint again, but I knew that wouldn't happen any time soon.

I was released from the hospital a week later. Caleb insisted I move in with him while I recovered. I had no complaints. He wanted to take care of me, and I wanted to take care of him. Caleb's anxiety eased as we settled into the penthouse. The bullet holes in the elevator had been repaired, and the building had a brand new state-of-the-art security system.

As my strength slowly returned, so did Caleb's desire to paint. I was thrilled when he sat me naked on the couch to pose for another portrait. He draped me in transparent lace, but he left my painful-looking scar uncovered. It was still full of stitches. He gave me a cup of delicious coffee and told me to enjoy it while he worked. He was painting me from the side so he could see my injured shoulder. He didn't finish the painting in an exhausting marathon. He paced himself for a change, and after three days of work, he had painted me like a battle-scarred princess in a Moorish desert temple, enjoying her morning tea.

Once I was functioning on my own again, Caleb fell into old habits. He began staying up all night on his laptop, brooding over bits of information he collected about Bruce Fowler. Something had changed. I could see it in Caleb's eyes. I begged him to come to bed with me late Saturday night, and he agreed, but he couldn't sleep.

"Caleb, why are you so anxious lately?" I asked and snuggled against him.

"You noticed?" he smiled as he gently rubbed my back.

He was extra careful as he trailed his fingers over my right shoulder blade. It needed a few more weeks of mending before I could tolerate pressure on it.

"Of course. You've barely slept five hours since Wednesday. What changed?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He wasn't used to sharing his worries with anyone but Rusty. I was determined to change that.

"I know how Fowler is going to attack us next, and I can't do anything about it without him knowing. I could catch him, but if I make plans, he'll know. It's incredibly frustrating. It's like trying to catch a clever butterfly in your hands. Move too fast, and it flies off. Move too slow, and it will fly off before you get close. You have to time the trap perfectly."

My stomach sank at that revelation.

"How is he going to attack us?" I gulped.

"I can't tell you. It's dangerous for you to know because it could tip him off. Don't worry yourself about it, Sam. I've been doing this for four years now. I'm two steps ahead of him at the moment. It's a good place to be, even though it's frustrating. I can keep us safe, and that bastard knows it. He was sloppy when he robbed you. He rarely pulls the trigger himself. Scarlet was right. He saw a cheap shot and took it. His next attack won't be that sloppy. I have time to plan," he whispered.

He rolled over and cradled my face between his hands. He had been doing it a lot since the attack. I think it helped him keep his heart rate under control. It helped me too, but I was reeling after what he said. I regretted pressing the matter. There wasn't much I could do to help track Fowler, but I could help Caleb feel better.

"Would you be able to sleep if I sucked your cock?"

He burst out laughing after that question.

"Probably, but I don't want you hurting your shoulder to do it. You can't even lay on your back right now. Blowjobs are off the menu."

"I can make it work. Just sixty-nine with me and use your hips a little. It'll be fun."

He smiled big and kissed me for a moment, then he shuffled around so I could reach his cock. I breathed in his scent and moaned. He always smelled like sex to me. I kissed and licked his swollen tip, and he grew extra hard in my hand. He lifted my right leg so he could get his face between my thighs. I shuddered when his tongue lapped over my clit and into my pussy. The pleasure made me tense, and I had to force myself to relax. Tensing made my shoulder and my chest hurt. I learned that the hard way after some gentle spooning with Caleb earlier that week.

"Are you okay?" he mumbled against my crotch.

"Mmhmm," I hummed and sucked him a little harder.

He groaned and gently rocked his hips, pushing his cock deeper into my mouth. He held my thighs and licked harder inside me, making my pussy ache with need. I wished he could hold me down and fuck me wildly, but that would have to wait. I squeezed his shaft and worked my tongue against the underside of his tip. He groaned and thrust a little faster, helping me pleasure him. My breathing was excited, making my chest ache. It was worth it when his cum burst hot onto my tongue. He groaned and shook as I sucked him dry. I loved feeling his cock twitching with pleasure between my lips. It helped me hit orgasm despite the ache in my chest. I relaxed and let the hot waves roll through my cunt as Caleb licked hard inside me.

"Fuck, I needed that," I groaned, making him chuckle.

"I did too. Thanks, Sam," he sighed and rolled over to rest.

He was snoring a few seconds later.

"Mission accomplished," I grinned.

The next two weeks sailed by. I could move my arm better and sleep normally, so I told Lesley I was ready to return to work. Caleb frowned at the news. He wanted to keep me tucked away in his apartment until summer, but I was getting cabin fever. He knew he couldn't stop me, so he insisted on walking me to work every morning. He would sit at the corner table and draw on a napkin as I prepared the Blake coffee order. It felt good to be working again. Even Caleb seemed better for it after the first week.

The following Monday started out normally. Caleb and I dressed for work and set out for Lesley's shop. The weather was up to its normal tricks again with an annoying snowstorm. My shoulder hurt like hell when the humidity dropped in the middle of the night, but I powered through it. Snow was thick on the sidewalk as we crunched along. Caleb was extra quiet that morning, and it put me on edge. I had spent enough time with him to know when he was worried, and he was definitely worried that morning. When we came into view of Lesley's shop, I noticed the lights were off. I stopped and reached for my new phone, preparing to call Lesley and see what was up, but Caleb took my arm and urged me to keep walking.

"It's okay, Sam. Just act normal, please. Come into the shop with me," he whispered as we approached the door.

I nodded and opened the door, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to turn around and run. Sitting at a back table in the dimly lit room was the devil himself, Bruce Fowler. A gun was sitting on the table in front of him. Lesley was nowhere to be seen.

"I've been waiting for you two. Come in, lock the door, and close the curtains, or my sniper will make quick work of you," he warned.

I looked at Caleb, and he calmly nodded, so I did what Fowler said. My hands didn't want to work. They were shaking like mad, but I managed to lock us in and close the curtains.

"Very good. Turn on a light and sit down for a moment. We need to talk."

I hit the lights for the dining room. Then Caleb and I sat down in the chairs opposite Fowler. His pretty blue eyes were on me the entire time. He wasn't wearing a mask anymore. He was just as handsome as Rusty and Caleb, but his brow looked arrogant.

"I'm glad to see you're doing well, Sam. I didn't mean to hurt you," he began in a sincere tone.

I glanced at Caleb. He was calmly watching Fowler. He didn't seem surprised by anything that was happening, and that comforted me a little.

"Where's Lesley?" I asked.

"She's fine. I tied her up in her office. She's feisty. I like her," he grinned.

I gulped and nodded, feeling sick to my stomach. Fowler turned his brooding gaze on Caleb at that point.

"So, Mr. Harper, how's Rusty and Scarlet doing?"

Caleb didn't react at all. He just continued to calmly stare at Fowler. It wasn't the behavior I would have chosen at that moment, but Caleb knew his enemy better than I did.

"Ah, still pissed at me for shooting your girlfriend? It was an accident, I assure you. That bullet was meant for your chest cavity, not her pretty back. Did it leave a cool scar?" he grinned, keeping his eyes on Caleb.

Fowler was eager for a reaction, but Caleb wouldn't give it to him. The humor left Bruce's face at that point. His enemy wouldn't play with him, and that pissed him off.