Page 21 of Illicit Illustration

Reid paused as he walked through the doorway, his eyes dropping to where my pants were perched around my knees. I’d been so flustered I’d forgotten to pull them off.

“Need some help?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

“Shut up,” I hissed, watching as he plugged in the heater and walked over to me, dropping to his knees and tugging at one of the elastic bands covering my ankles. My eyes locked with his as I tried not to stare at his now bare chest and the swirling ink that covered one of his firm pecs.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help.” His steady gaze made my cheeks burn hotter, and I tried not to hyperventilate as his fingers tugged the fabric free from my legs. One large palm cupped the back of my calf, his thumb dragging across the rough skin of my scar. I nibbled on my lip and fought off a shudder while his other hand pulled the last bit free. He tossed my sweats on top of my shoes and held out his hand. “Up you go, I need to lay this down if you want both of us to fit. It’d be a little tight if we set up like this.”

Do not think dirty thoughts about things being a tight fit…

“Can I touch your camera?” I asked, trying to step around him.

He caught my elbow, his bare chest pressing against the side of my arm. “You can touch whatever you want.”

Trying not to take his statement literally, I escaped across the room while he busied himself pulling the futon away from the wall and laying it down flat. I took his camera out of the bag, attaching the small zoom lens to the front and checking the settings while he opened the tripod a few feet away.

Once he was done, he held out his hand, quickly fastening it to the top of the mount and looking through the viewfinder.

“Come look,” he said, gesturing with his head for me to come closer. He hovered next to the tripod while I looked at the image it would capture, trying to picture him laying down on the mattress.

“Can you go lay down? Face away from me.”

“Bossy little thing,” he chuckled, and I opened my mouth to apologize, looking over at him. “I was kidding. You’re in charge here. Tell me where you want me.”

He laid down, and I tried not to focus on the way his abs rippled while he got situated. It really was unfair how handsome he was.

“Hmm,” I hummed, and he arched his neck to look back at me.

“You’re directing this show, Haz. If you need me to move, you gotta say the words. Or just come move me into position.”

I closed my eyes, my pulse pounding as I squeaked out. “Take off your pants.”

“Haz,” he coaxed when I still hadn’t opened my eyes a few moments later. “I still have briefs on. Not naked over here. Well, unless that’s what you want me to be.”

Shaking my head almost violently, I tried not to let my face go entirely nuclear as he chuckled at my reaction.

“Grab the remote from the camera bag and get over here. Not going to get what you need hiding from me over there.”

I knew I wouldn’t get what I needed right now, especially not from Reid, or anyone else, for at least a few weeks. Hopefully.

Blowing out a breath, I turned and opened my eyes, reaching into the camera bag until my hands closed on the tiny remote shutter button. At least I didn’t have to set a timer with my hands shaking like they were.

Reid was watching me as I walked toward him, one hand extended back in my direction. “Climb on up.”

“Easy for you to say,” I mumbled under my breath, but of course, he heard me and his deep chuckle filled the air as he grasped my hand and urged me onto the futon with him.

“You got this,” he responded, settling his hands on the sides of my waist and urging me to straddle his chest. “Take what you need from me.”

I expected him to be looking at me with one of his usual cocky smirks, but his eyes were hooded, focused entirely on me and softer than I’d ever seen them. He wasn’t doing this to use as ammunition to ridicule me. He’d volunteered to help. And I needed to let him.

“Keep going,” he whispered, his thumb dragging along my side in a way that had me wanting to sit somewhere a little lower than his face. “I won’t bite. You have to ask nicely if you want that.”

Shaking my head, I scooted forward, straddling his arms and hovering above his strong shoulders. The edge of his beard tickled the inside of my thighs, but I was trying not to focus on how good it felt. Or the fact that it was inches from my…

“Deep breath. You’re in charge. Tell me where you want me.”

But I didn’t feel in charge as I looked down at his face between my legs, I felt out of control. And wildly turned on, which was so fucking wrong. He wasn’t doing this for me to rub up against him like a scratching post. He’d probably throw me out of the shop if I shoved my crotch into his face like my intrusive thoughts wanted to right now.

But I needed to fake it, or I was going to have a panic attack and embarrass myself even more if I didn’t calm down.

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