Mirror of My Soul by Joey Hill (book club recommendations .TXT) 📕

“It’s a part of you that fascinates me, but the Master in me does get a bit restive when I see your hands on another man.”

Enough that he’d had to take a few steadying breaths when he’d come upon the

intriguing tableau of Josh examining his angel naked. He’d had to take a moment to assess it, understand and force himself to appreciate the interaction, rather than break the fingers of a man whose hands created art revered all over the world.

“It’s different,” she said. She moved her hips over him, a stroke against his already hard cock. His fingers tightened on her buttocks, squeezing so a little breath left her.

“It’s like when I drink tea, do the ritual. It satisfies something I need to feel. A balance. Working with subs is like that. But with you, it’s different. It’s hard to explain.”

“I can’t describe it either.” He touched her hair, lifted it on either side of the comb clip, let it flow out of his hands, brush her bare back. He enjoyed the way she tilted her head back, feeling the sensation. “It’s like a vise around my chest, my heart, my mind.

It’s like if some part of my mind isn’t about you, with you, I don’t feel whole. I want to be with you. Whether just being with you where you are, making love to you, or watching you make tea. It’s obsession, but something so much deeper. It’s so deep that I know you feel it, too. It can’t all be coming from me.”

She considered that. “You know a lot of stalkers feel that way. And terribly

arrogant men.”

He smiled, a slow, lazy expression. “So they might. You don’t mind having me as a stalker, do you?”

“I think I can handle you. I have a bat for your hard head.”

“And I hear you know how to use it.” He lifted her hand to his lips. At her look, he raised a shoulder. “I regularly bribe Chloe for information.”

“I’m going to have to replace that girl with a retired Catholic nun who will see right through your charm, see what a bad man you are.”

He shuddered. “I much prefer Chloe.” His eyes grew serious. “You terrify me. He had a gun.”

“He doesn’t anymore. The police have it. I doubt he even has working internal

organs.”

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Joey W. Hill

He framed her face in his hands, commanding her attention with a little shake. “Do you know how it would tear my guts out to lose you?”

She shook her head, looked down, away, uncomfortable. Her body tensed and he

knew she was about to pull away. Tyler reined his temper back with effort. Stop pushing. She was brave enough to come here last night. Don’t scare her off sooner than she’ll do it on her own. He reached into a shady corner under the bench.

A wildflower, a delicate star in a shade of pure cream, came into the field of Marguerite’s lowered gaze a moment before it was brushing against her lips, the stem of the flower held in Tyler’s hand.

“I leave you alone for an hour and you’re lying out here naked with another guy.

Faithless wench.”

She tilted her head, dodging the flower and enjoying looking at him with the sun making the highlights of silver in his dark hair gleam. “Did you like his sketch?”

“I like anything that involves you.” He smiled as she reached out spontaneously and touched his throat, caught her fingers in the soft hairs of his chest through the open collar of his shirt. Her deft fingers even slipped one button to play more freely on his skin. “And yes, despite the fact I know his hellhound of a dealer will extort an ungodly amount of money from me to obtain the finished work, I liked it.”

“He must be doing well to have a gallery dedicated to him in New York.”

“He’s had that for a couple years. Josh is getting ready for his second tour of Europe. Milan, Paris, et cetera. That’s why Marcus is nagging him for several more pieces. His last one was auctioned off for a quarter of a million dollars.”

Her eyes widened. “I thought you were joking…he was joking. Who is he? Oh…”

Her hand went to her mouth. “He’s the anonymous Zone sculptor.”

“Actually, that was done by several of his protégés, under his supervision.”

“J. Martin.” Her hand reached out, caught his sleeve. “I didn’t know… I wouldn’t have… It will be all over Europe…the States…”

Tyler burst out laughing at her look of horror. “The only woman I know who

blanches at the idea of being immortalized in the art world. What if Mona Lisa had felt that way? Or Michelangelo’s David? Don’t worry, angel.” He stroked back her hair.

“I’m going to buy it. The sculpture, the sketch, it will all be mine.” Just like the woman that inspired them. “I’ll enjoy it as privately as you wish.” His lips brushed hers. “As privately as I intend to enjoy you, over and over. Just let that be a lesson to you when you let strange men see you naked.”

Her grip eased, but something in her face made his eyes narrow. “Marguerite—”

She rose off him before he could tug her back down, reached for the robe. “I

wouldn’t have let him if I had known. If I knew it would cost you so much money. I can go talk to him, tell him not to…that I withdraw my permission.”

He stood, catching up to her in two steps, taking her arm to stop her. “He’s in prison.”

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Mirror of My Soul

She jerked free, her expression making that lightning change from malleable

woman to hostile wild creature, frustrating him. “And he doesn’t know where I am, who I am.”

“He hasn’t seen you since you were fourteen. It will be a sculpture.”

“He’ll know. You don’t know. You see? I can’t do this. I can’t…”

“You’ll let him put you in a cage, keep you from feeling, loving, because of the fear that it