Jess was a Bitch Ch. 14

"Yeah, baby. Sorry. That might not be such a hideous idea after all but you'd be so far away."

"Jon, I'm going back to school in a few weeks. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah, no, not really. Shit."

"Yeah, shit. Hey, no being sad, not today, for either of us. Go paint. I rented one of the beach cabanas in case mom and dad want to jump Caitlin and Travis' bones again."

"Hey, Jess, don't tease them, okay?"

"Way ahead of you this time, little brother. They're too damn cute to tease. Bye, babe. Love you."

"Love you, too, baby. Bye."

"You hang up first."

"Okay, Jess. No games today."

"Okay, hang up then."

"I will. Give me a second."

"I gave you three. You didn't hang up."

"I'll hang up if you get a pair of your panties soaking wet from your pussy and FedEx them to me."

"What a perv? If I do, you still can't jerk off."

"Deal. Bye, baby."

He hits "end call", smiling.

***

"You look like you're in a good mood," Caitlin chirps to Jess. She'd watched the young woman pacing on the patio as she talked to her brother. "How's Jon?"

"Good," Jess replies. "He's already talked to David."

Caitlin grins. "I told you he was losin' his shit over Jon's work."

Jess grins back. "Isn't it fuckin' awesome!" Jess grabs the other woman's hands and the two of them jump up and down like a couple of schoolgirls. "Are you going to be ballin' my folks again today?"

"Wow. Talk about a change of subject. How did we segue into that conversation? Jesus, Jess."

"Jon wants me to soak my panties and FedEx them to him. I thought the easiest way to do that would be to watch you and Travis fuck but then I realized it might be with my folks, which, while cool, really, is not something I want to watch. So, if your plans include nailin' my mom to the sheets could I borrow one of those porn videos?"

Caitlin gapes at her and then chuckles. "I doubt we'll be 'ballin' your parents with you on the patio. Or, for that matter, letting you watch Trav and I fuck, while they're on the patio."

"Hey, I realized I'm a third wheel, well, fifth wheel. I'll be hanging out on the beach all day. I won't come back until one of you guys gives me the all clear. I suppose you could have Travis hang a sock on the patio door. Just make sure it can't blow away."

"I don't think Travis brought any socks. Hang on a sec," Caitlin tells her through her laughter. She disappears down the hall. Jess hears murmuring voices, then a sharp bark of laughter from Travis. When Caitlin returns, she hands Jess a thumb drive. "It's got a lightening connector and compact USB so it'll work with whatever phone you have. Please don't leave it on the beach."

"Cool. Hey, can I steal a ziplock bag from you. I don't want to just stuff my underwear in a FedEx pouch."

"Yeah, good idea," Caitlin tells her, shaking her head. She walks behind the breakfast bar and opens a drawer. "Here you go. Remember, if you're planning on doing this on the beach, be discrete."

"Of course, you know me."

"I do. That's what worries me."

Jess sticks her tongue out and waves goodbye. She detours to her suitcase and Caitlin sees her pull out a different bikini bottom. She pulls the one she's wearing off and pulls the new one on, just as her folks walk out of their bedroom.

Gloria shakes her head but doesn't miss a beat. "Morning, dear."

"Moring mom, dad. I'll be hanging out on the beach. I rented a cabana. You're welcome to join me. If you're not busy, that is."

She skips out the patio door with a chuckle at the sight of the blush on her father's cheeks.

***

Jon has the sketches he made at the airport taped to the wall. Each of the small pages is part of the larger image he's been carrying inside his head since the moment he came, making love to Jess in the waves. Though, each had been done individually, they fit together perfectly on the wall, making one large sketch. It's a rough sketch. His mind fills in the colors. He's checked the canvas. The gesso is dry and smooth. The canvas is ready. It's too hot in the garage to leave the door down. It's not the fact he's naked that worries him, the garage is on the side of the house. He's worried about stray leaves, grass clippings or that ubiquitous and endlessly irritating white fuzz off the cottonwood trees. He's never tackled a canvas this big, used a brush this big, or planned on using this much paint before. The background requires a quantity of paint far beyond the capacity of his palette. He's mixed it in a gallon pail. He takes a deep breath, dips the brush, wipes off the excess on the lip of the pail and puts brush to canvas. He works fast. He intends to add highlights to the background while the first layer is still wet. He works on the 'sky' first.

It takes several minutes of his phone alarm blaring before he hears it. He steps back, surveys his afternoon's work, and nods. He regrets having offered to pick David up at the airport, hating to leave his painting, but he sets his brushes in thinner, wipes his hands, and pulls on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt and slips his feet into flip flops. He remembers to grab his wallet when he grabs his keys.

He waits for only a few minutes in the cellphone lot before David calls. If he's shocked by Jon's old battered Civic, he hides it well. He's wearing an elegant suit, complete with pocket square, looking more like a hip banker or accountant than a gallery owner. He's younger than James, but with prematurely gray hair, cropped short. They exchanged pleasantries, neither getting any bad vibes from the other.

"Would you like to get something to eat, Jon?"

"Uh, I'm sorta anxious to get back to my painting. Can we order a pizza or something?"

Given Jon's dress, David is not surprised by the answer. Nor is he bothered by it. "Sounds fine to me."

"It's not deep-dish, I know you're from Chicago but I think it's pretty great. Hand-tossed, local place, not a chain. I usually have 'em brush the dough with olive oil and spices instead of marinara sauce -- mushrooms, bruschetta tomatoes, onion, green pepper, jalapenos?"

"Perfect."

"Right on."

David stands in front of the canvas, occasionally stepping closer to peer at a section, while Jon orders the pizza. They both have a bottle of beer in their hand. David steps over to the sketches taped to the wall and glances back and forth between them and the canvas.

"How long have you been working on this?"

"On the actual painting? Since I talked with you. It took a while to get the canvas prepped."

"Wait a minute, are you telling me you did all of this today, this afternoon?" Jon nods. "Had you already started reworking the sketches, the chalk ones, before I talked to Caitlin?"

"Uh, no. I did those yesterday."

"You did all six of those sketches, yesterday? Seriously? Are you fucking with me?"

"No, why would I do that?"

"Jon, it would take most of the artists I know a week to produce six chalk drawings of that caliber. You did it in a day? Really?"

"Well, I didn't get to bed until dawn, but yeah."

David whistles. He points to the rough sketches taped to the wall. "Do not throw those away. When we sell the painting, we can sell those as well. Buyers love to see how the process evolved or we can sell them separate."

"My dad thinks I should set up a company first, even though it's just me."

"He's right. We need to go over the legal stuff but I have to tell you. I want to get some of this stuff on the walls of my gallery. I've never done this before, but if you're okay letting me sell the chalk drawings, as a set, and display the picture of Caitlin and Travis, I'll do that part on a handshake. Fifty-fifty split. If we want to work together after that, we can make it more formal, between my company and yours. What do you think?"

"Let me think about it. Okay?"

"Absolutely."

They hear a car pull up. "Pizza's here," Jon announces and walks out to the driveway. David offers to pay and doesn't make a stink about it when Jon declines the offer. David takes a bite and his eyes grow large. "This is excellent," he exclaims and takes another bite. After that, they eat in relative silence. When the pizza is gone, other than a few crumbs and grease stains on the bottom of the box, Jon holds out his hand.

"We have a deal."

"Really? You've had enough time to think about it?"

"Yup. I wanted to watch you eat the pizza, see if you really liked it or if you were just kissing my ass." He nods at the empty box. "I think you liked it."

He doesn't open his mouth but David parts his lips ever so slightly, a long, slow, deep rumbling burp is forthcoming. "Yeah, I liked it."

Jon smiles. He's going to like this guy. "I'm going to do a little more painting, if that's okay? I don't mean to be rude."

"I can get an Uber to the hotel."

"Stay in the guest room. That's what it's there for."

"You know, I think I will. Would you mind if I watch you work?"

"Nope." Jon finishes the last of his second beer. "Although, I seem to end up naked when I paint, don't want to freak you out."

"I've been doing this for almost fifteen years, it would take more than you painting in the nude to reach freak-me-out levels of eccentricity."

"Cool."

Hours later, unmindful of his suit, David is resting with his butt on the hood of Jon's Civic. Jon is indeed nude again. David is more gay than bi but it's not Jon's ass or cock that fascinates him, even at those moments when something in his work caused Jon's cock to grow. It's not even the painting itself, though he grows more amazed at it by the minute. It's the way Jon works, his focus and speed, that fascinates him. He checks the time and then, as quietly as possible, dials Caitlin's number. She answers after the first ring.

"So, what do you think? I hope you like him; I love the guy and that's not just hyperbole," she gushes before he can say, "hello".

"Have you watched him work?" David asks, ignoring her question for the moment. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Yes, I have. It's almost scary isn't it?"

David nods but doesn't speak. "He decided he could work with me, with us, because I didn't lie about liking the pizza he ordered," he whispers in wonder.

Caitlin chuckles. "Why not? That seems like as good a reason as most. So, he's in?"

"Basically. He wants to set up a company. That'll take some time but we have a gentleman's agreement allowing me to sell the chalk drawings and to display the painting of you and Travis."

"James and Gloria are okay with you displaying the one of them as well."

"Excellent. I told Jon I want people to understand he is capable of far more than erotica."

"I know, totally, right? The expression he captures on their faces is mind-blowing."

"I was worrying about how he could supply works for two galleries, even if one of them is small, but now that I've seen him tear through a canvas, um, I really believe he can. Should I wait for him to stop to say good night? I wanna go to bed but he's offered me the guest room and I don't know where it is."

"I'll show you. I'm done for the night."

Jon's voice startles him so much, he jumps. "Jesus, Jon. You scared the hell outta me. Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You didn't," Jon tells him with a grin. "I got to the end for the night just as you were asking about the guest room." He leans closer. "Hi, Caitlin."

David tilts the phone and Jon leans closer still to hear. David becomes acutely aware that Jon is nude.

"Hi, Jon. I hear you're painting up a storm. Those drawings of Jess are unbelievable; they're breath taking."

"Thanks, I like them, too. Jess tells me you and Travis are molesting our parents."

"You under-estimated them, both of you. What makes you think they aren't molesting us? Besides, you really want to talk about your parents' sex life?"

"No, not really. I wanted to give you a little shit, that's all. I don't want to spend too much time on the idea that my dad and I are fucking the same woman."

"Holy crap, Jon. I never knew you were as smooth with words as you are with images. You're probably giving poor David an MI, a heart attack. Let me talk to him. Love you, goofball."

"Give Jess a kiss for me. Oh wait, that's against the rules. What if I watch on Skype?"

"Let me talk to David. Seriously, he's probably barely conscious."

"Bye, Caitlin."

Jon steps away and a visibly flustered David whispers, "yeah, I'm back."

"Well, you've gotten the full deal. He doesn't believe in coy."

"I'll say. Talked to you later, Caitlin. Hey, thank you for thinking of me and introducing Jon to me. Even if we're both totally wrong and his work flops, I think it's amazing."

"You're welcome. Later."

David puts his phone back in his pocket. He walks closer to the canvas. He wishes the light were better. Everything radiates from a focal point in the right lower portion of the canvas. Based on the scraps of paper taped to the wall, that's the spot where the man's penis is entering the woman's vagina. He assumes it's Jon and Jess. Caitlin had filled him in on the background. He couldn't care less. He realizes Jon is standing right behind him. "This is going to be amazing."

"Thanks, David. I'm beat and hungry. You up for a Burger King run."

"Sure, why not, after today, why the fuck not."

"That's the spirit. Come on."

"Jon?"

"Huh?"

"Clothes?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. It's like clothing fucks with my chi or something."

"You need a studio. I'll try to get enough for the chalks for you to afford to rent a space."

"Cool."

***

It takes Jon three more days to finish the canvas. There are times when he simply has to wait for the paint to dry. In the afternoon of David's third day in Dallas, he finds himself signing for a FedEx package. He gives it to Jon, who immediately disappears into his room. David has no way of knowing what's in the package or that Jon is using his phone to record himself smelling, and later tasting, Jess' bikini bottoms. He strokes his cock but keeps his word. He doesn't cum.

David extends his stay. He uses the time to make contacts around the city. He visits the Kimbell and Modern in Fort Worth as well as the Dallas Museum of Art. He enjoys them, though none can compete with the Art Institute of Chicago. He also checks out a few of the galleries. None of them offer the type of work Jon is producing. Evenings, he chats with Jon when he doesn't have a brush in his hand, or he just watches him work. The morning of his fourth day in Dallas, he finds Jon asleep on the couch. He can't resist the urge to ogle his new client's bobbing cock before he puts on a pot of coffee. As the aroma fills the air, Jon stirs. He sits up and treats David to one of his window rattling yawns.

"It's finished," he announces standing up and stretching, seemingly utterly unaware of the way his cock is jutting out from his belly. "Want to see it?"

No, I want to suck your dick, flashes through David's mind and he shushes himself. "Absolutely. Coffee?"

"Sure, give me a second. I need to take a serious leak, bro."

As Jon turns away and heads down the hall, David takes a deep breath and tells himself to get a grip. He takes a sip of coffee and wills his hand not to shake. He knows better than to tell himself not to get a boner; there's nothing more likely to give a dude a boner than thinking about not getting a boner. As anxious as he is to see the final result, he waits for his host.

In the garage, he simply stares. He's watched Jon paint this canvas, large parts of it anyway, and still, he's unprepared for the final effect.

Jon and Jess, he knows it must be them, are making love in the waves. The point at which he's entering her body is bright white. Everything seems to ripple out form that point, nothing so crude as actual ripples. The effect is achieved far more subtly than that. Beyond their bodies, water. Beyond the water the sky and then the cosmos, except it's not that trite. He steps closer and sees galaxies swirling in the woman's hair. The man's lips are waves. None of this is obvious at first glance. The viewer is compelled to look; drawn in by the juxtaposition of shape and color, helpless not to step closer, to look at this spot, then that one. To step back and take in the whole once more before stepping even closer to examine a single star and discovering that, yes, it is two lovers intertwined in one another's arms. It's abstract and impressionistic and hyper-realistic; subtle and bold all at the same time.

"I don't know what to say, Jon."

Jon nods. "You like pancakes?"

On the way to take David to his favorite breakfast haunt, Jon stops and signs the papers his dad's lawyer has drawn up for him. After the papers are filed, he'll be a corporation. Weird. The guy tells him the contract David has given him, is straight forward. He sees no problem with Jon signing, if he wishes to do so.

Jon provides David with the name of his new, corporate self. David sends it to his office and by the time they've finished eating, the contract is sent back to him. It's a PDF. Jon signs the screen with his finger, careful to make sure there's no syrup on it first.

"We're a team. I can't tell you how excited I am, Jon."

"Me too. I'm scared too, though. I'm afraid I'll wake up one morning and all the ideas will be gone. I'll stare at a canvas and not have the faintest idea what to put on it."

"I think that's pretty common, my friend. But I can't see that happening to you. You've only just started to tap into your creative power." David pushes back his plate. "No more. I'll weigh three hundred pounds and never get laid again."

"Have you slept with Caitlin and Travis?"

"No," David answers, trying to not appear to be taken aback. "They only swing with couples. The last relationship I was in was with a strictly gay, and very jealous man, kid really, not in years, he wasn't much younger than me, but emotionally."

"Weird, dude. You're great to hang with, you own an art gallery, you're good looking, what's up with being single? Unless you want to be single."

"No, I don't want to be single. Jon, how old are you? Sometimes I feel like I'm talking to someone my age and other times you seem so young I hardly know how to relate to you."

"I'm nineteen, twenty in a few months. I thought you knew that."

"No. Can you legally sign a contract in Texas? In Illinois I think you can after eighteen but I don't know for sure."

"Yup. I can vote, sign contracts, and be executed. But I can't drink. Weird, huh?"

David nods. "How long have you been, intima..."

"How long have I been in love with Jess? Three weeks." He smiles. "You don't have to worry she'll be accused of sex with a minor." The smile fades. "Are you worried about the reaction if word gets out? Afraid it'll kill sales?"

David shrugs. "Yes and no. No, because I think your work is fresh and exciting and people will love it. No, because it's hard to say notoriety like that won't help sales. Yes, because, well, I worry about most things related to business. And, yes, because it's hard not to like you and I don't want to see you ground up in the media. I don't know Jess but I worry about her as well."

"You'll love her." He shrugs and the look of sadness on his face makes him look much older. "It may not matter much. She's thinks we need to end this. She'll let me know her final decision when she gets home tomorrow."

"I didn't know you were dealing with that. I wouldn't have intruded. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, dude. It was awesome having some company when I couldn't be painting."

"Is that why you painted so, uh, intently, to keep your mind off Jess?"

Jon is shaking his head before David is finished speaking. "No, I can't explain it, not very well. Dude, David, it's almost like cumming. This idea, this image keeps building in my head until I have to get it out."