after i finished without color i felt the urge to peek in on the characters several years down the road. this is a standalone chapter that gives us once last glimpse of the liz and michael from this particular alternate universe.
Liz stretched her arms over her head and sighed. She’d been sitting at the computer for over three hours. But at least she had gotten a lot of work done. Her editor would be pleased, especially since she had been behind schedule for the past few weeks.
She frowned when she remembered the horrid mornings, afternoons, and nights that she’d spent in the bathroom throwing up. Poor Michael had been beside himself, absolutely refusing to let her work. By the time she’d figured out that it wasn’t a stomach virus the worst of her symptoms were over.
She hadn’t told him that she was pregnant yet. She was waiting to surprise him with the news. Waiting to get used to it herself too.
It was more than she had ever thought possible. Not only did she have a wonderful marriage, a thriving career as a novelist of all things, but also she was now on the brink of motherhood. Perhaps her world was shaded by darkness, but her life, her life was nothing but joy.
*****
Michael knew that the way things looked wouldn’t matter to his wife. But he wanted this night to be special. He’d pulled the settee he’d used to keep in his old studio into her old room, draping it in red silk. Blue and deep purple candles lit the room, releasing the sweet scent of blueberry and plum into the air. A green bottle of champagne stood in a silver ice bucket, two crystal flutes standing half-filled with the bubbly yellow liquid.
But those were only details, the most important aspect of the room were his supplies. The tubes of paint in nearly every color, the assortment of brushes, and his palette.
Tonight he was going to seduce his wife. He was going to paint her the way he’d yearned to do the first night she’d modeled for him.
“Michael?” he heard her soft voice float in from the living room.
“In your old room,” he replied.
“What are you doing in there?” she asked as she stood in the doorframe. “Oh Michael, what do you have planned?” she asked as the scents of blueberry and plum hit her. She knew how her husband’s mind worked and candles usually meant seduction with Michael.
Michael swallowed a groan when he heard the teasing note in her voice. He’d never been able to hide his intentions from Liz for too long. “You’re feeling better right?” he asked, concern for her health the only thing that could possibly deter him from making his fantasy a reality.
“I’m feeling better than all right,” she smiled at him before moving her hands to the buttons of her blouse.
“Wait,” he stopped her, “let me.”
He grabbed her hands and pulled her towards him. Kissing her tenderly on the mouth before slowly unbuttoning her blouse. As he slipped each button through it’s corresponding hole, he lingeringly kissed the patches of smooth skin he exposed. He pulled slightly at the sleeves and her shirt fell off her shoulders to the floor. Hungrily he took in the sight of her full breasts unfettered by a bra before gently tugging at each nipple. Smiling at her reaction to him, he laved each breast with his attention. He knew how much every touch affected her, her senses heightened by her blindness.
“You taste so good,” he murmured as he dropped to his knees as unbuckled her jeans. Liz placed her arms on his shoulders as if to steady herself, a slight whimper his only response as he pulled down her pants.
He kissed the soft cotton of her underwear, inhaling the scent of her. She was already wet, ready for him. He nuzzled her gently, licking her lightly where she throbbed with need for him as he ran his hands up the backs of her leg. He smiled as she shivered in reaction, pulling off her panties. He sat back on his haunches taking in her exquisite beauty.
Without saying as word he led her to the settee and lay her on it. Positioning her in a sexy sprawl across the deep red silk.
“All that and you’re just going to paint me?” she jokingly complained when he left to prepare his palette.
“Ah well, tonight I’m painting something really special.”
“You say that every time.”
“But you’ve never been both the subject and the canvas.”
“Oooohhhhhhhh,” Liz sighed as she felt Michael’s paintbrush against her collarbone. The cool wetness of the oils caused her skin to pebble in goosebumps.
Michael felt the immense rush of emotion, the need, the itch to imbue the world with color that always came over him while painting, only this time it was intensified by the over-powering love he felt for his wife.
He trailed his paintbrush dipped in reds and yellows and greens and blues in swirls across the smoothness of her skin. He teased her breasts, until her nipples stood erect and aching for more. He slid the brush down her stomach, drawing impromptu petals around the hollow of her navel, the flower’s stem leading to the nest of her dark curls.
He switched to a fan brush, tickling her gently with soft pats on the heated skin of her thighs. Liz moaned and shifted plaintively, asking for more of this torture, more of this ecstasy, wanting more of him.
Michael painted her, teased her, until he was breathless with need for her. He’d painted every inch of her skin, even her little toe, and she was his masterpiece.
“Sweetheart,”
“Michael, just kiss me. I need you now,” Liz moaned as she pulled her husband close to her mindless of the paint that colored her.
Michael groaned and pulled off his clothes. Joining her on the settee with a raging need. They kissed, their mouths melding, their tongues tasting the love that fueled the heat in their souls.
Michael slid into her lush heat, groaning at how easily she sheathed him. They set a rhythm, thrusting wildly to complete one another. Exploding with the passion and the love that consumed them.
Afterwards they lay shivering, bathed in the waning candlelight, their skin a swirling spectrum of color.
“Champagne, sweetheart?” Michael asked as he reached for the glasses that stood forgotten on the floor.
“I’d better not,” Liz replied.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Michael asked sharply.
“Well, I’m pretty sure the baby won’t like it.”
Michael spit the mouthful he’s just taken into his mouth back into the glass. “The baby?” he said his voice cracking.
“Yes. We’re having a baby.” Liz said tenderly, holding her arms out to Michael as he wrapped her in his.
After that there were no words as Michael set about showing his wife how much he cherished her. And exactly how happy he was about the baby.
Spectrum
Liz stretched her arms over her head and sighed. She’d been sitting at the computer for over three hours. But at least she had gotten a lot of work done. Her editor would be pleased, especially since she had been behind schedule for the past few weeks.
She frowned when she remembered the horrid mornings, afternoons, and nights that she’d spent in the bathroom throwing up. Poor Michael had been beside himself, absolutely refusing to let her work. By the time she’d figured out that it wasn’t a stomach virus the worst of her symptoms were over.
She hadn’t told him that she was pregnant yet. She was waiting to surprise him with the news. Waiting to get used to it herself too.
It was more than she had ever thought possible. Not only did she have a wonderful marriage, a thriving career as a novelist of all things, but also she was now on the brink of motherhood. Perhaps her world was shaded by darkness, but her life, her life was nothing but joy.
*****
Michael knew that the way things looked wouldn’t matter to his wife. But he wanted this night to be special. He’d pulled the settee he’d used to keep in his old studio into her old room, draping it in red silk. Blue and deep purple candles lit the room, releasing the sweet scent of blueberry and plum into the air. A green bottle of champagne stood in a silver ice bucket, two crystal flutes standing half-filled with the bubbly yellow liquid.
But those were only details, the most important aspect of the room were his supplies. The tubes of paint in nearly every color, the assortment of brushes, and his palette.
Tonight he was going to seduce his wife. He was going to paint her the way he’d yearned to do the first night she’d modeled for him.
“Michael?” he heard her soft voice float in from the living room.
“In your old room,” he replied.
“What are you doing in there?” she asked as she stood in the doorframe. “Oh Michael, what do you have planned?” she asked as the scents of blueberry and plum hit her. She knew how her husband’s mind worked and candles usually meant seduction with Michael.
Michael swallowed a groan when he heard the teasing note in her voice. He’d never been able to hide his intentions from Liz for too long. “You’re feeling better right?” he asked, concern for her health the only thing that could possibly deter him from making his fantasy a reality.
“I’m feeling better than all right,” she smiled at him before moving her hands to the buttons of her blouse.
“Wait,” he stopped her, “let me.”
He grabbed her hands and pulled her towards him. Kissing her tenderly on the mouth before slowly unbuttoning her blouse. As he slipped each button through it’s corresponding hole, he lingeringly kissed the patches of smooth skin he exposed. He pulled slightly at the sleeves and her shirt fell off her shoulders to the floor. Hungrily he took in the sight of her full breasts unfettered by a bra before gently tugging at each nipple. Smiling at her reaction to him, he laved each breast with his attention. He knew how much every touch affected her, her senses heightened by her blindness.
“You taste so good,” he murmured as he dropped to his knees as unbuckled her jeans. Liz placed her arms on his shoulders as if to steady herself, a slight whimper his only response as he pulled down her pants.
He kissed the soft cotton of her underwear, inhaling the scent of her. She was already wet, ready for him. He nuzzled her gently, licking her lightly where she throbbed with need for him as he ran his hands up the backs of her leg. He smiled as she shivered in reaction, pulling off her panties. He sat back on his haunches taking in her exquisite beauty.
Without saying as word he led her to the settee and lay her on it. Positioning her in a sexy sprawl across the deep red silk.
“All that and you’re just going to paint me?” she jokingly complained when he left to prepare his palette.
“Ah well, tonight I’m painting something really special.”
“You say that every time.”
“But you’ve never been both the subject and the canvas.”
“Oooohhhhhhhh,” Liz sighed as she felt Michael’s paintbrush against her collarbone. The cool wetness of the oils caused her skin to pebble in goosebumps.
Michael felt the immense rush of emotion, the need, the itch to imbue the world with color that always came over him while painting, only this time it was intensified by the over-powering love he felt for his wife.
He trailed his paintbrush dipped in reds and yellows and greens and blues in swirls across the smoothness of her skin. He teased her breasts, until her nipples stood erect and aching for more. He slid the brush down her stomach, drawing impromptu petals around the hollow of her navel, the flower’s stem leading to the nest of her dark curls.
He switched to a fan brush, tickling her gently with soft pats on the heated skin of her thighs. Liz moaned and shifted plaintively, asking for more of this torture, more of this ecstasy, wanting more of him.
Michael painted her, teased her, until he was breathless with need for her. He’d painted every inch of her skin, even her little toe, and she was his masterpiece.
“Sweetheart,”
“Michael, just kiss me. I need you now,” Liz moaned as she pulled her husband close to her mindless of the paint that colored her.
Michael groaned and pulled off his clothes. Joining her on the settee with a raging need. They kissed, their mouths melding, their tongues tasting the love that fueled the heat in their souls.
Michael slid into her lush heat, groaning at how easily she sheathed him. They set a rhythm, thrusting wildly to complete one another. Exploding with the passion and the love that consumed them.
Afterwards they lay shivering, bathed in the waning candlelight, their skin a swirling spectrum of color.
“Champagne, sweetheart?” Michael asked as he reached for the glasses that stood forgotten on the floor.
“I’d better not,” Liz replied.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Michael asked sharply.
“Well, I’m pretty sure the baby won’t like it.”
Michael spit the mouthful he’s just taken into his mouth back into the glass. “The baby?” he said his voice cracking.
“Yes. We’re having a baby.” Liz said tenderly, holding her arms out to Michael as he wrapped her in his.
After that there were no words as Michael set about showing his wife how much he cherished her. And exactly how happy he was about the baby.
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