Page 187 of Out of Bounds

Danger, danger.

"I specifically told your producers that’s not something we want to talk about," Ryan warned, the threat laced in his words. "We were very clear about that."

"Brad, not a good idea," Noemí whispered, halfway to hissing.

"She’s so tiny," Brad pressed, like I wasn’t five-foot-six. "Do you have to break her in every time?"

That was it.

Ryan shoved himself up from the chair and Brad’s eyes shot wide. What thehellwas he expecting? The only thing that stopped Ryan was the headphones over his ears and he reached up to rip them off.

I worked faster than he did.

Pushing up too, I reached over the table and clicked the big red button to stop the interview. A screech carried over the headphones and all the podcast hosts struggled with their headphones while I reached for Ryan’s hand before he could go around the table.

"Hey, baby," I called to him.

Ryan glanced back, his dark eyes smoldering with fury. The rage extinguished the moment he settled on my face. His eyes flickered down to my hand, holding his.

I nodded at his chair. "Sit with me."

For a moment, I could see him wrestling with the decision. He wanted to walk over and do something stupid.

The door shoved open and two of their assistants came out, no doubt watching us through the monitors. All four of us glanced at them and they stood frozen at the door frame.

"Can you close it?" I smiled at them. "We’re not done yet."

The assistants glanced at the hosts and Noemí nodded at them. Brad finally stayed shut the hell up.

With a grunt, Ryan took his chair again and I squeezed his hand, still holding it tight. The restlessness didn’t leave himentirely. He was the metaphorical tiger, pacing outside of his iron bars.

"You turned off our audio program," Brad told me, eyes flickering back to Ryan.

"Oh, yeah. That was on purpose," I assured him, running my thumb across the back of Ryan’s hand. "I’m confused. If you’re asking about our sex life, why are you just asking him? He’s not fucking himself. He’s not you on the weekends."

Brad’s eyes widened and Noemí shrank back in her seat.

"Sorry, I—uh—take back the question." Brad cleared his throat.

"Oh, no. You’re asking the question."

Maybe I said the words but Ryan shifted up in his seat and I knew both of us were gazing at Brad expectantly. I raised my eyebrow at Brad, still waiting on the question.

His eyes flashed to his co-host and she shook her head. "Don’t look at me."

Brad shifted uncomfortably and finally faced us. Without the conversation recorded, he seemed to lose that confidence, and finally recognized how uncomfortable this whole thing was. "How—uh—is it?"

"Oh my god, amazing." I smiled sweetly at him. "The only thing I do in the morning is drag him back to bed. He’s so good at eating pussy.”

Brad made a noise at the back of his throat.

“And I do shit for him I wouldn’t do foranyoneelse,” I continued, watching him. “I signed up for a gym class twice a week for flexibility. That’s how into him I am, I’m learning how to drop to my knees better."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a lofty grin raise up Ryan’s lips.

"And Ilovesucking his dick."

It was so funny, Bradaskedthe question, but the momentIstarted responding, I could immediately see how awkward he felt. Clearly, he didn’t see the conversation going like this. Brad shirked into himself, nodding along to what I was saying while he grimaced at the table.

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