Page 57 of Audiophile

“Sometimes, but not tonight,” I protest. In a bid at distraction, I move Reed’s hands to my thighs, guiding them up under my jacket and blouse. His palms are rough against my waist. “You have a bargain to call in.”

“I know what you’re doing,” he says as he brushes the lace band of my bra. “I’m going to let you do it, because I want you to tremble under my hands, but we’ll circle back to this.”

“Or we could jump to the trembling part and forget about the rest.”

“Stubborn woman.” He brushes our noses together and releases me with a wry smile. We climb into the car, and he doesn’t give me a chance to retreat into my shell. “I didn’t get a chance to properly enjoy that blouse in front of your family. Unzip your coat, Pet, and tug down your neckline.”

My shaking fingers follow his direction. His eyes follow the length of my neck down past the shadowy curve between my breasts. “Enjoy what you see, baby?” I ask, mimicking his words from last night.

He cracks a smile, but tugs sharply on my hem, until my breasts are one deep breath from toppling out. “I want every inch of you in my mouth before the sun rises.”

“Is that a pickup line?” I’m not blushing or giggling now. I’m taking what I want, without doubt or shame.

“It’s a promise,” he says. He lays his palm on my thigh, fingers draped so they’re warmed between my legs, and I can’t breathe from the want of it. He might enjoy my fur, but I’m suddenly grateful I had the foresight to shave my legs.

I’m on edge as we park in the lot. My courage lasts me all the way through the lobby, but when he closes the door to his room behind us, my courage remains outside. “Reed? I don’t know how to do this. The bath was an easy warm up—I was nervous getting in, but you made it so…effortless. And you weren’t staring at me.”

“Difficult not to stare at you,” Reed says, removing my coat to drape it over a chair. “You can’t hide how beautiful you are, not even when you try.”

“Oh please, you wouldn’t have glanced at me twice in line at Mulberry’s if I hadn’t reacted that way.”

Reed frowns. “I wasn’t looking atanyone, Pet. But I’m glad I saw you.”

My heart swells, and I stuff it back into its box. “I wasn’t looking at anyone either.”

“I know,” he says, and pulls me in close with a groan. “God, you smell sweet. Is it perfume? Soap?”

“A mix, and oil, too—the cold driesout my skin.”

“Makes me crave you,” he confesses, and my pulse flutters under the press of lips to my neck. “Can I kiss you here? Kiss you everywhere?”

His hand dips to my neckline and toys with the fabric, but my necklace shifts across my throat, pulling me out of the moment. I shake my head, reaching up to unclasp it. “Not here. Take me to bed.”

Reed watches me tuck my necklace in the pocket of my coat. He wants to ask again—the question is written all over his face. When I don’t offer any information, he guides me to the bedroom and turns on the lamp. The door shuts, closing it off from the rest of the suite. The room is instantly cozier, but when Reed’s fingers brush my sides and lift my blouse over my head, my nerves make themselves known.

“Fair is fair,” I say, voice wavering. “My shirt for yours.”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, but unbuttons his shirt. “Alright, but I’m not wearing a sexy bra.”

I giggle as I reach behind me to undo the hooks, but Reed’s hands find mine first.

“Wait. I want to do it, please.” He abandons his task to trace his hands all over the lace I’ve left bare, and my trembling fingers push his shirt over his shoulders. His lips form a path from my cheek to my collarbone to my breasts. I squirm as he unhooks the lace, drops it to the floor, and feathers kisses across my skin.

“I need this to go faster,” I complain, holding him to me.

Reed laughs—smug, arrogant, and wonderful—and unfastens the buttons on my jeans to tug them down my legs. I lose my balance, falling back on the bed, and Reed lands on top of me.

“Sorry!” I squeal through giggles.

Reed chuckles as he gets to his feet. “We’re both still wearing shoes, and those should’ve been the first to go.”

Awkwardness hits home. I don’t know how to do this.

Nate didn’t want me after the first couple years. What if Reed wants an idealized version of what sex could be between us, but the reality is awful? Suddenly, the things Nate didn’tappreciate hang heavily over me. The sprinkle of hair on my toes, my stretch marks, the scar on my stomach, my marks. There are brown flecks, like splatters of paint, all over me, and I wish I could scrub them off.

Reed kneels at my feet and tugs off my shoes and pants. His shirt and shoes hit the floor before he sees my face. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s… You’re a master at this and I—I don’t remember how toflirt. I want this to be easy, Reed. I want to forget who I am and just enjoy being with you here, in this moment. But Ican’t.”

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