The Unveiling (Work of Art #2) (32 page)

“Hey, Riley, what’s up?”

“Hi, Ava. I’m at Dylan’s, and something’s going on. He’s been on the phone with Max. I could hear Max yelling through the phone. What happened at that party tonight?”

My stomach sinks so fast I’m afraid I’m going to be sick. “Nothing happened. Why?”

“Dylan said something about some guy named Travis. I guess he told Max that guy has been asking everyone about you. When Dylan said Travis walked you to your car, Max flipped out and hung up on him.”

I gasp into the phone. “Oh my God. I’m going to kill Dylan.”

“I knew it! He totally fucked up, didn’t he? What’s wrong with him? He should know better!”

“He fucked up all right. And here I thought he wanted his artist happy. Well, he sure as hell took care of that.”

“Damn, I’m sorry Ava. I had a bad feeling, and I thought you’d want to know.”

“I really appreciate the call, Riley. I don’t know how I’m going to fix this, but I’m going to Malibu now. Tell Dylan to stay the hell out of it, okay?”

“I will. Please drive safely. Good luck, Ava.”

I dress quickly and grab my purse and a Diet Coke to keep me awake on the drive. I’m so mad at Dylan I can hardly see straight as I clutch the steering wheel and focus on the dark road. Max left that party in a fragile state, but intent on doing the right thing before Dylan thoughtlessly pushed all of his panic buttons.

My mind keeps racing, and since I’m so lost in my thoughts, I’m almost to Max’s house before I realize it. After I get the security gate open, I zoom down the road, hastily park, and jump out of my car. When I step through the wood gate to the front garden, I stop in my tracks.

Max is standing in the threshold, his expression haunted. I rush to him and stop just outside the door. It upsets me that his eyes are glazed, and when he speaks, his voice breaks.

“Just tell me what happened.”

This is bad…he’s worse than I feared.
“Nothing happened, Max.”

“Please, Ava, please don’t do this. Just tell me what happened.”

I hold my hands open as I fight back tears. “I promise. Nothing happened.”

His anguish surprises me, and I wonder what it’ll take to convince him.

“I’m trying…I want to trust you,” he whispers. “But Dylan said—”

“Fuck Dylan!” I yell. “What is wrong with him? That network guy walked me to the valet stand to finish our conversation. That’s all.”

He closes his eyes, runs his hands through his hair, and groans. “He said that guy has been asking about you. Brian told him that this guy even went to your work. What the fuck is that about?”

“He’s probably doing due diligence or something like that since we’re doing PR for the interview and the book. I’m not worried about it, and you shouldn’t either.”

“You don’t know that for sure. And then you expect me not to worry?”

“I texted you right when I got home, Max. Why didn’t you call me? I asked you to. I had my phone turned all the way up and next to me in bed.”

“You did?” he asks, with a glimmer of hope in his expression.

“Yes, check your phone. I tried to call you too.”

“My phone died.”

I rest my fists on my hips and arch my brow. “Your phone died? Should I get mad about that?”

He gives me a soft smile. “I suppose you could.”

“When you charge your phone, you’ll see how much I wanted to talk to you. No one else—only you.” I step closer and look up as I gently place my hands on his chest.

“Max,” I whisper tenderly…lovingly.

His eyes search mine, wanting more.

“I love you with all my heart. Why isn’t that enough?”

He gasps as he places his hands over mine. “Enough? Oh my God, Ava, it’s everything…Maybe that’s the fucking problem. As much as I try to fight my crazy thoughts, sometimes it’s too much—more than I can handle.”

“But look at us right now…We’re working this out.”

“I can’t lie, this was a tough night.” He looks down, shoves his hands in his pockets, and takes a step back. “I’m kind of broken here, baby, can you kiss me or something?”

I smile unexpectedly and shake my head. “Max, being in love with you is like being on a theme park ride. Thrilling and harrowing…and I had to wait in line so damn long to get on.”

“And now you can’t get off?” He gives me a weak, but hopeful, smile.

“Who says I want to?”

I can no longer resist him. I close the gap and kiss him with everything I have.

He almost buckles in relief and then wraps me into his arms. His mouth is warm and loving…but there’s also an anxious hunger in his kiss, and I kiss him back just as fervently, hoping that he’ll feel all the love I have for him.

“Oh, this is what I need,” he moans, kissing me again and again. He slides his hands down my back until they’re cupping my ass and pulling me closer so he can push his erection against me. “This is all I need.”

He lifts me up, and I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. I cling to him as he kicks the front door closed and carries me upstairs to his bed.

Every part of our lovemaking is desperate, from the way we tear off each other’s clothes, to the way he cries out when he pushes into me. We cover every square inch of the bed as we move over each other—grabbing, pulling, and fucking hard.

At one point, I’m on top of him, and he lifts me off and pulls me forward until my sex is perched right over his face. He has a fire in his eyes and pulls me closer, devouring me with his tongue—tasting and taunting until I scream his name and pull his hair. I almost black out from the sheer force of the orgasm.

He finishes on top with my arms and legs wrapped around him and clinging on for dear life. A primal moan escapes his lips with his final thrusts.

We collapse together, sweaty and raw, covered in each other’s arousal, burning eyes and wild hair. This is the hunger. This is who we are and who we’re meant to be.

The wild rush is quiet now. In our nest of sheets, I curl against him and try to find our peaceful place. He wraps his arms around me as we surrender to the moonless night.

Right before we drift to sleep, he kisses my cheek and whispers in my ear. “No one ever will touch what we have, angel…no one.”

I think about Travis’s vague comments and Zach’s ominous warning about how fast things can change, and realize how easily couples can be pulled apart.

“You promise, Max?” I nestle even closer as if I can permanently bond us together until we’re completely connected.

“I do, my love.” His hand settles on my chest and it calms my pounding heart as his promise settles through me.

I am just on the edge of sleep when my phone’s text prompt goes off.

“What the hell?” Max curses as he reaches over me for my phone on the nightstand.

He takes it upon himself to swipe the screen as I try to get the phone away from him.

I can’t believe he’s being such an ass. “Max, give me my phone!”

He extends his free arm to block my efforts.

“Who is it?” I ask, suddenly feeling completely awake. My mind reels to imagine who would text me this late. What other drama can be stirred up tonight?

His arm continues to hold me back as he reads the screen. His head snaps toward me and even in the dim moonlight I can see the rage in his eyes. “You lied to me,” he growls in a voice I don’t recognize.

My heart freezes like it’s stopped beating.

His arm jerks back and propels the phone through the air, a silver blur until I hear the smack of it bouncing off the adobe wall. He rips the sheets back and storms out of bed, taking a second to grab his jeans off the floor before exploding out the bedroom door.

What the hell?

I turn on the bedside light and scurry out of bed to find my phone. I kneel down and with trembling fingers pick it up off the floor. When I turn it right side up the screen is shattered, a web of cracks across its surface and dull grey light is the only indication that it once functioned.

As I rise up on unsteady legs I blink back a tear. We had made it through a rough night and whoever just texted me took us back to square one or worse. I’ve never seen that much rage in Max’s eyes. It feels like the rope that ties our hearts together is unraveling. I grab his shirt off the floor and pull it on so I can go find him. His word’s before I dozed off echo in my ears.

No one ever will touch what we have.

I hope to God he’s right.

The Trilogy

Book III~The Masterpiece February 2015

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Animate Me

Mr. 36
5

Work of Art Book I~The Inspiration

Many thanks to those of you
that take a moment to leave a review
~it is much appreciated.

Being an indie author is like galloping into the Wild West…you just never know what’s up ahead and I’m very grateful for the people that have helped or encouraged me on my journey.

My heart is with Alex, my daughter and #1 girl whose endless support with my writing keeps me from giving up on those days that I question everything. Much love to my Lost Girls: Erika, Susi and Dawn and terrific author friends: Kellie, Suzie and Mary who support and guide me with patience and grace. Friends, Azu, Lisa, Judy, Laura, and my studio team at work: Susan, John, Susie, Michelle and Monika—you guys all encourage and tolerate me, and I love you dearly for it.

Many thanks to my super editors, Angela Borda, Janine Savage and Janell Parque. Max and Ava thank you too.

I’m so grateful for photographer, cinematographer, David Johnston and designer, trailer-blazer, Jada d’Lee who besides being top notch, are dear friends as well. The lovely Michael Senich and Patricia Ashley brought so much beauty to my book covers and trailer. Also love to Elli Reid who inspires me with her passion and terrific visual sense.

Neda Armini has been awesome, guiding me with promotion. Thank you for being lovely, caring about what matters and holding my hand through it all. I’ve greatly appreciated the support of Glorya Hildago who helped me brainstorm ideas over late night sessions at our local coffee house.

Thank you Flavia Viotti Siqueria and Meire Dias of Bookcase Literary Agency for your warm support. I know we all want to see Max speaking Portuguese and other languages one day in the future.

And last but not least….thank you to my fic friends, readers, reviewers, bloggers, Tweeters, and fic promoters….I’m so grateful for all of you. I’m honored you’ve allowed Max and Ava to be part of your reading world, and I can’t wait for you to join them on the rest of their journey in book three.

Ruth Clampett, daughter of legendary animation director, Bob Clampett, has spent a lifetime surrounded by art and animation. A graduate of Art Center College of Design, her careers have included graphic design, photography, VP of Design for WB Stores and teaching photography at UCLA. She now runs her own studio as the fine art publisher for Warner Bros. where she’s had the opportunity to know and work with many of the greatest artists in the world of animation and comics.

The Work of Art Trilogy
is Ruth’s third publishing endeavor, following
Animate Me
and
Mr. 365
. She lives in Los Angeles and is heavily supervised by her teenage daughter, lovingly referred to as Snarky, who loves art and visiting museums as much as her mom.

Connect with Ruth:
RuthClampettWrites.com
https://twitter.com/RuthyWrites
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