Page 36 of Illicit Illustration

Reid: The fuck you are. I’m too invested in these now for you to get rid of me that easily.

Reid: Speaking of, you never sent me the final product of the last one.

That might have been intentional. Not only had the piece turned out amazingly well, but the author had paid for additional licensing to use it as a special edition cover.

But that didn’t mean I wanted to show him. The picture I’d used for the final pose had to have been taken at the moment I fell apart against his hand. I’d almost told the author I wasn’t able to finish the piece, but it helped that her character looked nothing like me in the finished product. It’d also taken a tremendous amount of effort to draw the male character with a helmet on instead of Reid’s expressive face.

Reid: I’ll come up there if you keep ignoring me.

Reid: Did Hudson tell you he gave me the extra keys to the building in case of an emergency?

Reid: I think one of those keys is to your apartment.

Reid: Might need to do a wellness check, you know, to make sure you’re alright. Just in case it’s an emergency. I know mouth to mouth.

Reid: Hudson and Charley headed home since I have these keys to lock up. The cooks just left, and Mikey left a while ago.

Reid: You have five minutes to respond to me or you’re about to have a visitor.

Reid’s texts had been background noise as I watched a video on my phone that might work for the scene I needed to draw. Tobe honest, I hadn’t even really read them as they came through, swiping them out of the way as I watched the movements of the man on the screen.

In all my deep dives into studying male anatomy, I’d never actually watched any videos like this.

And certainly never ones this graphic.

It was mesmerizing to watch his fingers flex while he gripped himself, his forearm muscles flexing and biceps bulging with every quick movement as he shuttled his fist up and down his…

“Haz,” a muted, but very familiar deep voice carried down the short hallway leading from the front door to the living room, and I froze, my eyes wide as I watched Reid just let himself into my apartment without a knock. Or maybe he had, and I’d been so focused I hadn’t heard it.

I was so busy staring at my uninvited visitor that I hadn’t even realized that my headphones had come unplugged, a very masculine grunt emanating from the speaker and making Reid’s eyes widen.

Holy fucking shit…

My wireless earbuds were still charging after I’d forgotten to put theminthe case before I had placed it on the charger earlier today. I’d grabbed my old over-the-ear ones and plugged them in while I did my research and had clearly forgotten that the reason I’d stopped using them was because the connector had a habit of wiggling loose.

Reid stalked toward me while I frantically tried to close out of the window in the browser on my phone, but he was too fast, gently grasping my wrist and pulling the phone out of my hand.

He watched the screen; the grunts getting louder and louder as the guy clearly got closer and closer to finishing, Reid’s expressive eyes flickering briefly toward mine with a look I couldn’t quite place.

This was so embarrassing. It’d be one thing to get caught masturbating by the person who starred in way too many of yourfantasies, but it was an entirely different thing to get caught watching someone else do it on your phone.

Reid reached forward, pulling the headphones from my head and tossing them toward the coffee table while he sat down next to me.

My pulse hammered as he scooted closer, his knees pressing up against mine. He was dressed more casually than I would have expected him to be if he was downstairs earlier, wearing a pair of loose mesh basketball shorts, a fitted dark gray T-shirt, a pair of beat-up Converse sneakers and a backwards cap.

Either he went to change after all the texts he’d sent me, or he wasn’t downstairs to pick up women like he usually was. Not that he looked any less attractive than he did in his usual attire of dark wash jeans, leather boots, tight graphic shirts that hugged his biceps in a way that was practically obscene and his artfully messy sex hair.

“What kind of research are you doing here, kitten? Is this for one of your projects, or is this for something else?”

His smile widened when I shook my head, clamping my mouth shut. I was so mortified. Not that watching porn was shameful or anything, but getting caught watching it by your brother’s best friend—who you had a very unhealthy crush on—was not exactly great. I was sure my cheeks had gone full on nuclear in the few minutes since he’d let himself in and crashed my little viewing party.

“Is this what you like…watching?” he asked, studying me with half-lidded eyes. His voice sounded lower somehow, and I glanced toward his shorts, my eyes widening when I realized I was staring at his dick. Not his actual dick, but where it was located.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart.” The teasing in his voice only made the blush worse, because the smug bastard knew exactly what I’d been doing.

“Give me the phone.” Thrusting my hand into the space between us with way more confidence than I actually possessed, I lifted my gaze and stared him down. I’d dealt with his teasing more thanenough when I was a teenager and knew cowering would only make it worse.

“Tell me about your commission,” he shot back, pressing the phone into my hand, but instead of moving away, he wrapped his large palm around the back of the phone, holding it captive between our hands.

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