“You don’t need a business degree to run a business. You need experience.”
“Then let me have experience.”
This time, he ignored me. His gaze was downturned on his work. The concentration on his face was innately sexy. It reminded me of the nights he thrust between my legs. His eyes were on me, and he possessed me with just a look.
We sat together in silence for another twenty minutes. The sewing machine worked to fuse together the lines of fabric. Conway worked effortlessly, doing something innately complicated without appearing even slightly stressed.
There was a gnawing feeling in my stomach, something that haunted me every single day. I never asked because I knew he wouldn’t answer. But I needed to know the truth, or it would eat me alive. “Conway, I need to know something. You have to answer me. I deserve the truth.”
It was the first time he stopped working. He took his foot off the pedal and locked his gaze with mine.
“You wear something when you’re with the others?”
His expression didn’t change at all. He held my gaze without blinking, completely indifferent in response to my question.
“Conway,” I pressed. “I deserve to know.”
He turned his eyes back to his work. “You don’t need to worry about catching anything, Muse. So drop it.”
“I’m not going to drop it until I get an answer.”
“I just told you you don’t need to worry about it.”
“Is that a yes?”
The sewing machine came back on, and he finished his task.
I let it go because I wouldn’t get anything else out of him. He said I didn’t need to worry about it, so hopefully, that meant he was safe. He seemed too smart to catch something from a complete stranger. I had to hope my assumption was right.
He carried the piece to the mannequin and hung it up on the artificial body. The pink color was perfect under the light, and the cut of the fabric was exact. It was amazing he had created something in such a short amount of time.
“Do you sew the design directly into the fabric?”
“I’ll make a separate piece then stitch it directly on top.”
“Interesting…”
He sat down again and got to work.
I flipped through his notebook and looked at his different sketches. From the very beginning until the present time there was a distinct evolution. I could tell when he met me just by looking at his art. There was a noticeable shift in his design. “What exactly inspired this piece?”
“You.”
“I know, but did I do something?”
He picked up the beads and the rose gold pendant before he started to stitch it into the lace. He was quiet for so long it didn’t seem like he was going to answer me. Maybe he was concentrating so hard that he hadn’t heard me. Or maybe it was a question not worth answering. “Yes.”
I closed his sketchbook and stared at him. “What?”
“When you threatened to tell my family the truth if I didn’t treat you better.” He started in one corner of the fabric and then slowly moved downward. “It annoyed me, but I respected it. It was smart, resourceful, and badass. Reminded me of something a queen would do. It made me want to fuck you even more…”
Once again, Conway Barsetti was an enigma. He wanted me to be the quiet submissive who did whatever he asked, but whenever I fought him, he seemed to respect me more. When I made demands, he argued against them but caved. It was complicated, and I still didn’t understand it.
He worked for another thirty minutes, completing the piece and making a royal design. It was beautiful, magnetic. He removed the base fabric from the mannequin then sewed the pieces together. It took him four hours to complete it entirely, but once he was done, it was a wearable piece of art. He examined it with his fingertips, looking at the minor details with an experienced eye. Then he turned to me. “Put this on.”
I set my robe on the table and pulled the dress over my head. It fit my measurements perfectly, from the straps over my shoulders to the tightness around my waist. I kept my panties on because he hadn’t made a pair to match the dress yet. I stood in front of him, admiring the way the color complemented my skin so well.
He stared me up and down, taking in every single feature as he moved down my legs. He raised his finger and made a turning motion.
I slowly turned in a complete circle, letting him see my sides as well as my behind. I continued to turn until I was facing him again, my shoulders back and my posture perfect. I watched the intensity burn in his eyes, witnessed the arousal come to life. He stared at the cut of the top, where my tits were on display. The fabric was tight around the bust, making my tits push together and create a cleavage line without padding.