Charlatan Charm

5: The Threat

Paint. There was paint everywhere.

It should make sense since Charm and Lucan were in an art studio, but there was paint everywhere—everywhere being on the newspapers on the floors, on the paint covers on the counters, on the canvases in the room, on their skin, and on their clothes. Although it was too early for mischief, the height where the sun was visible did not hinder the two from committing carefree and paint-wasteful acts.

It was unplanned. Of course it was. Charm could not think of any person who would plan a paint fight at seven in the morning. She appeared in his presence at six and it was a surprise that Lucan had taken with much appreciation. Her excuse to Aunt Trish was simple: she and friends were having a breakfast picnic at the beach.

Lucan woke up to a rap on his door. The grogginess fled for the hills when he turned the knob to a Charm Harlow clothed in a pastel shirt some sizes too big, denim shorts, and sneakers in the hallway. Her smile was too bright for six am, but it drew him in.

The man, missing a shirt, wrapped an arm around her waist and in one quick motion had her inside his unit, door closed, and her body against his. They kissed. It was eager, but landed more on the sweet side than s****l.

"Good morning," Lucan murmured between them. Before she could greet the man back, their lips were at it again.

It's Monday, four days after the third art session. Thursday and Friday consisted of the usual: they met up at the cafe, talked over coffee, and bonded in Luke's car. On Saturday afternoon they had lunch at a restaurant near the sea, drove to Luke's place, and occupied his bed for two hours before they were interrupted by France's call telling Charm that aunt Trish was suspicious.

Lucan could hear the exchange, though chose not yet to acknowledge how Charm's aunt is unaware of their affair. He trusts that the girl will speak when she's ready to. As for Sunday, they did not see each other. Trish had dragged his son and the cousin to church before leaving them at the mall to explore. Right after dinner, Charm's parents called to check up on their only daughter. 

Charm took the initiative to buy them breakfast on her way to the complex. Usually it's Luke who does the things similar to what Charm had done. The turn of tables had him feeling some type of way. It was that dangerous feel in his gut again. Dangerous as in he can imagine his entirety as putty in Charm Harlow's palm.

Luke did not have plans for Monday. It was automatic that he'd work in his studio like he always does on a free vacation day. After they ate, the man unlocked the other room where his most prized possessions sat on either easels or on the floor.

"What's your current project?" Charm wondered, fingertips mindlessly grazing tubes and tubes of paint on the counter. She found another flaw: lack of organization skills.

"This one," he said, nodding at a canvas on a stand positioned in the most well-lit space in the room. The sun's warm light tamed by sheer curtains were caressing the progress of Lucan Hendrix's latest piece. 

It was in his style: baroque. From what was available, Charm could determine the scene before her. It was a storage room of a building under the same style of architecture. The room held statues that seem to come to life. It was only half-done, but already one of the best pieces that the girl had ever seen made by someone she knew personally. This man, Lucan Hendrix, he'll go places when the time comes.

"It's beautiful," the words escaped her lips. Then, she caught herself, "And that's an understatement, Luke."

She watched him work until teasingly, the man wiped paint on the young woman's hand. That triggered the fight that had both of them covered in spots and smudges of paint after twenty minutes.

Charm flinched when Lucan took a step forward. Their laughter filled the whole room and both were panting hard, sweating underneath their dirty clothes. Luke's abdomen was burning by how much he was laughing, though try as he did to stop, the man kept bursting into a fit of chuckles when he'd glance at the red paint on Charm's nose—the latter looking like a clown along with yellow and blue around her eyes.

A part of him kept yelling that he was silly for being such a child. Charm's melodic giggles drowned out those yells. The woman was against a wall, ready to make a run for it anywhere if Lucan chooses to charge again. The pads of his fingers were tinted with different colors ready to be rubbed on Charm if he catches her—when he catches her.

"Not much space in this room," he teased. Charm looked around either for a route or for more paint that she can use on Luke. A safe route was absent, but she did find a palette nearby. Equivalent to loading a gun, she smothered her fingers in orange oil paint.

"Yeah, not much space for you to hide," she taunted.

Lucan scoffed, "Me? Hide?"

Charm took in the sight of him: cotton joggers and a shirt, paint on his arms, some on his cheek, and a lot on his clothes. His brows knitted together and although he did not mean to look so adorable, he looked very adorable. Despite the stubble on his jaw and chin, he looked young and boyish by the smile on his prepossessing face.

Lucan noticed how Charm was out of it for a few seconds. He took advantage of the trance she was in. The man charged forward and even though the woman fled at the last split second, she failed to dodge his arms. Large paint-smudged limbs wrapped around her and color was wiped on her neck, her wrists, and shirt—all the places that his hands reached.

Locked in Luke's embrace from behind, all she could do was cast revenge on his arms which was not much because they were already dirty to begin with. A shriek left her lips when she was hauled up, feet leaving the floor and kicking at air. From just wiping paint, the man hopped into tickling the poor girl.

He did not show mercy in the first minute. When Charm's feet met the floor again, the sensation had become unbearable enough to melt her knees. They bucked forward, sending them to the floor. Still, he kept moving his fingers against the woman's sides, eliciting squeal after squeal until she was red not only from the paint.

Luke has not had that much fun in a while. Growing up in his household, the word fun flew out of their dictionaries. His parents had always been hell-bent on making sure that he and his siblings do well in academics. That's why, at the age of eighteen when he announced his pursuit for arts, neither of them took it lightly. True fun only started when he stepped into college. These days, the type of fun that Harlow provided was rare.

Charm was close to tears and by the way they landed, she caught a chance for revenge. Her own fingers found Lucan's sides and she mimicked his lack of leniency. A curse slipped from his lips when his guard was bulldozed down by none other than a twenty-one-year-old's tickling skills.

By the time they stopped, the winner could not be determined. They were both panting and tired, both covered in paint. They laid on their backs dealing with the aftermath of an improvised scene of a stereotypical romance movie. Charm had no clothes to replace her own. She knew he'd be lending her a few pieces from his cabinet. Charm noted to go home before Trish could arrive, just to avoid the questions.

Lucan was the first to regain composure. He pushed himself up and offered a hand to the girl. She took it and got to her feet, scanning the mess they made. It made her cringe. She knew they'd need to clean it all up.

"You..." Lucan trailed off as he dragged his gaze from Charm's head to feet, "You don't look so, uh, clean."

She pursed her lips, "I wonder why."

Lucan shrugged, "I can clean you up though," he mumbled, placing hands on either aide of her waist to pull her close, "If you want."

Before their chests could connect, Charm crossed her arms in between. She tried to look intimidating for show, "It's the least you can do," she told him.

It doubled his amusement. Lucan dragged his hands to Charm's behind and squeezed, "And the most?" he asked.

Her face was covered in paint, but he saw her smile, "We'll see," said Charm.

They then found themselves in Luke's bathroom. Casually, they stripped out of their clothes that Luke would have to throw in the washer for quite a cleaning. They stepped under the shower, a rainbow of colors heading for the drain when the water came running down. Since the paint was oil-based, the water's lone effect included only ridding of the minimum.

Luke grabbed soap and rubbed his palms, making bubbles. With Charm's back to him, he worked his hands down her arms. A casual conversation took place, "Three more students are joining on Wednesday," Lucan began, "Not worth their money, if you ask me."

Charm liked the feel of his hands on her, caressing and rubbing. She closed her eyes and sighed against Lucan, "You're right. They're paying for five when all they're gonna get is two," she commented, referring to the number of classes.

"What about you?" he wondered, "Is it worth your money?" and chuckled after. Lucan already knew the honest answer: no, it's not worth it; especially when Charm is already a pro at the medium she chose.

"You're worth it," she responded. Lucan had it coming.

"Stop being so sweet," he said, joking as he lathered soap down her sides and her hips, "I might get used to it."

"You're asking me to stop being me?" Charm responded. She grabbed a bottle of shampoo and started cleaning her hair.

"Never," he told her, "It's just my shitty way of saying that I have never met anyone like you before," and he almost cringed at how cheesy it sounded.

Charm smiled, "You're sweet too," she turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, "I might get used to it."

Once again, Lucan was craving her lips. Before their mouths met, however, Charm realized that her face still had paint. She pulled away, "One sec," and turned around to rinse against the spew of cold water.

With her eyes closed and her hands wiping her skin clean, she felt Lucan's trail down her back. As if their minds were synced, she knew what he was thinking—knew what he wanted to do on the tiles under the sprinkle of clean water. This was confirmed when both of his hands cupped her breasts just as he closed the distance between them. Charm shuddered when his lips met the back of her neck, a spot not covered by hair.

"I thought you'd get me clean?" Charm spoke, opening her eyes again. She felt his hardness against her lower back and wanted it so badly inside her instead. Lucan Hendrix is addictive, she settled.

"But that's the least, remember?" he spoke. One hand left her chest to grip his shaft. Lucan positioned his length between the two mounds of Charm's behind. She cursed under her breath and that made Lucan feel a hundred feet taller.

They were quiet after that. With his length still in hand, Lucan rubbed the tip against her entrance. The lack of protection then occurred to him. He gulped, tempted but unsure, "Should I?" he asked Charm.

The young woman wanted it as much as he did. She closed her eyes and reached for the shower knob, turning it off. Charm expressed her acceptance with a nod. She parted her legs wider, hands finding a tiled wall for support. Her back curved enough for their convenience and with one slow thrust, Luke entered her.

They moaned at the same time and it echoed in the small room. The man grabbed her by the hips and moved slowly, reveling the raw sensation of her slick walls taking in his erection to the base. She felt tight around him—tight and hot—pulsating, even. Lucan was oblivious to how hard his fingers were digging into her skin, though Charm loved every bit of it.

Lucan grabbed her arms and folded them behind her, locking them in place. Charm's front was led to the glass divider. Her chest met its cold material, breath fogging against the thick transparent wall.

She loved the pace at which Lucan was going: slow. He was entering her slow, pulling out slow, and diving in deep. Charm sounded breathless, "Slow," she said before whimpering, "Just like that."

Lucan's fingers tightened around her wrists. He leaned forward—enough for his mouth to reach her ear. He rocked his hips back, almost drawing himself completely out before pushing back in—so slow it was agonizing. Through clenched teeth, he talked, "Like this?" and dove as deep as her hole allowed.

"Like that," she whispered.

Taking her request, Luke went slow. He filled her to the tip with each stroke, ass bouncing against his hips each time. The sounds that left Charm's lips were some of the sexiest mewls and groans the man has ever heard and he took pride in the fact that he's the reason for them.

The pace started to bother Luke after a few minutes. He bucked forward in a new rhythm, allowing Charm to adjust by picking up the slightest of paces first until he was drilling for the sake of release. Raw, dangerous as it is, always feels better.

His teeth ground together as he struggled keeping himself intact when Charm came. The clenching and unclenching sensation around his girth was prompting his own peak. Once he was sure that Charm had delighted in all pleasurable waves available to her, he pulled out and stroked with his hand, spurting warm liquid against the back of the girl's thigh.

He turned her around and they kissed; Lucan pouring his appreciation and Charm expressing her affection. Before he could grow hard again, Luke pulled away and insisted that they continue cleaning themselves up.

Charm Harlow hugged the thick towel around herself. She shivered as she stepped on the mat, letting it dry the soles of her feet. Luke, half-naked with only a towel around his hips, kissed her forehead, "I'll go get us some clothes," he said before walking off to his closet.

Lucan's studio apartment wasn't the biggest, but Charm had seen worse. For the first time, she took the freedom to scan their surroundings for anything personal: photos, ornaments, and the likes. Details like that are never the first in Charm's line of concerns whenever she enters someone else's home. It's ironic: she's an artist, but does not pay attention to real life details.

With the tiny bit of info she gathered from Lucan about his family, it did not surprise her that he was lacking the typical family photos in frames. The only decorative thing in his unit aside from a few plants and paintings was a shelf housing figurines and collectibles that are probably local-art-inclined. She scanned the three built-in shelves. The pieces were unique in their own ways.

Luke was aware of what Charm was doing. He knew what she was looking for because she was not the first woman ever to do it at his place. Plus, he had also worn the curious shoes at ex-girlfriends' residences in the past. He licked his lips and drew the lower one between his teeth. After getting dressed in underwear and sweats, Luke walked to Charm, holding clean boxers and a shirt in one hand.

"Thanks," said the woman when she took the clothes. She unwrapped the towel and laid it on the couch. Then, she got dressed.

"Looking for my baby pictures?" Luke asked, watching her slip the shorts on.

She saw no point in lying, thank f**k, "Yup. I wanted to see a cute little boy with red hair and water bottles."

He laughed softly, "They're in storage. I'm bitter."

"Obviously," she walked to his couch and plopped down on the cushion, "But I believe that you have every reason to be," it was a statement that sounded like a question—an invitation for him to open up more.

The big man followed her to the seat. He occupied the other end and grabbed Charm's legs, laying her calves on his lap. His fingers massaged absentmindedly, "They did tell me that I'll go nowhere and that I'll never be successful."

Charm felt heaviness between her brows and on the sides of her lips, "I don't believe them at all."

"Don't worry," said Luke, "I don't either. I just hate it that they think they're superior just because their own success came earlier."

"You know," Charm laid her head on the throw pillows and stared at the blank ceiling, "The more you wait, the bigger your reward."

"I surely hope so," Lucan shifted, spreading her legs wide enough for him to fit in between. His head found her shoulder and her hands found his hair, "'Cause I'm not getting any younger."

Luke was heavy, but Charm liked his weight on hers. She played with his copper locks and voiced a query that entered her mind just then, "Are you like... twenty-nine this year or are you turning thirty?"

Luke moved up for their faces to meet, "I'm turning thirty," he said. Muscular arms wrapped around Charm.

Well, f**k. Twelve years in between, Charm thought. There's been worse in the history of Earth, but in her own little book, it's new—a hefty topic. "When?" she thought.

"Funny you'd ask that," talked Lucan, "It's next week."

She paused. "Next week?" Charm heard him right the first time. He nodded.

The next question was from the overflow of her anxiety, "Does it bother you? That we're nine years apart?"

Charm was thankful that he did not look surprised by the question. Lucan shook his head, "It's better than a decade, yes?" was his bright side response.

"I guess."

Now how the f**k do I tell him that I'm only eighteen?

The woman was driven home by Lucan, again dropped off at the corner of the street. Thankfully, France was in his room when Charm arrived. He was not able to see the girl in a shirt and joggers way too big for her frame and question her for it. Before he could exit his room, she had run off to her own to change lounge wear.

When the evening rolled in, France suggested another movie night. The young woman had no reason not to say yes. Watching a good film is always a great leisurely activity. She was hoping deep down that a good mindfuck movie would distract her of her Lucan worries for a while, but that was not the case. As Leonardo DiCaprio entered another man's dream on the screen, Charm was debating on when she'd come clean.

Her initial intention was to have Lucan for a fling only—one who will not last after summer. If she is to break it up with Lucan before college truly starts for her, she wouldn't have to worry about age since he'll never have to know. After getting personal with the man, however, she had decided that she wants to try with him for realationship. The only problem they have which he is not aware of is the lie that Charm had to make to get to him in the first place.

France let Charm's state go unnoticed. The cousin wanted to help, but felt that Charm would approach him herself if she wanted a hand in whatever problems she was facing. That being said, no one really paid attention to movie. France fell asleep on the couch and Charm retreated to her room right after.

The same concern bothered her on Tuesday. Lucan had things to deal with—art director things at school. The young woman looked for ways to relieve her pacing mind. Drawing kept her sane in the morning. A good book kept her stable in the afternoon. At night, as she exchanged text messages with Lucan under the covers, the problem was making itself known again.

At half-past twelve in the afternoon on Wednesday, France's vehicle came to a stop in front of CG. Charm did not feel like talking. Once the engine was off, she grabbed her bag and exited the car. The girl mindlessly walked the halls to their classroom, dread trailing behind her like a tail after each step. Not only was she worried; she was also starting to feel guilty. It's as if she found the rusty key to a small box she'd kept hidden away in the past years and what that chest contained was a responsibility that she never wanted: emotions. Guilt.

Her hand found the metal knob to Lucan's room. Right before she swung the door open, she heard it: laughter. Hearing Luke's lone laughter would've had her questioning his mental health, but no—Lucan Hendrix was not laughing alone. Feminine giggles accompanied his handsome chuckle.

Curious and wary, she stepped into the room to find a woman near her man—a pretty woman, in fact. Like the typical jealousy scenes in movies, the stranger had a hand on the leading male. They laughed together and Charm didn't want to admit it, but they looked good. From what she could see, the girl is older than her—younger than Lucan or the same age as him.

Her previous concerns drove her to have the girl's age as the first thing to be insecure about. Charm hated it. Charm cleared her throat.

Luke turned his head to the sound. Surely he's not that dumb, Charm thought when her expression did not affect him the slightest bit.

"Good morning, Charm," said Luke, "This is Ashley, she's one of the newcomers."

Ashley my ass, thought the girl. It seems that negative emotions were feasting on her today. Charm did not have enough stubbornness to not admit to the jealousy she was feeling. Did she even have the right to feel jealous? They do have a thing even though they had just met weeks ago.

Another query entered her head, one that would take both her and Lucan to answer: what the hell are we?