Page 20 of Off Camera
“You really want to talk about this?” I ask.
“I don’t see why not.” Avery smiles. “You’re here with me. Not them.”
“My hands.” The palm on her leg inches higher and disappears under her dress. I stroke the inside of her thigh and she sighs, content. “They like my hands.”
“Because you know what to do with them?”
“I like to think I do. But maybe you can tell me for sure.”
I gently grab her chin and kiss her again. It’s not as rough as the first time, not because I want her any less, but because I want to savor her for a second. I want to get my head on straight so I don’t say something that will fuck this up and ruin the moment.
She kisses me back with her lips and her teeth and some incredible thing she does with her tongue that has my hand moving from her chin to the wall to hold myself up.
“Show me,” she whispers. “I want to see.”
“How much have you had to drink tonight?” I ask.
There’s no way in hell this is happening. Not to me.
“Enough to feel weightless. Like I’m floating and everything is nice. Not enough that I don’t know where I am or who I’m with.” Her palm folds over mine and she drags my fingers up to the waistband of her underwear. “I want you to touch me, Reid.”
I think I might be shaking.
I think I might also be leaking in my briefs.
I’ve had sex before, obviously, but it’s always been in a controlled environment with variables I’m familiar with. Women I’ve spent days getting to know like the back of my hand.
Avery is a wildcard. I don’t know if she prefers things fast or slow. If she wants my fingers or my tongue. What gets her off and what she hates.
And… I’m really out of practice.
I haven’t touched anyone but myself inyears. Now the hottest woman I’ve ever spoken to is asking me to rock her world, and I’m afraid I’m not going to be good enough for her.
“How…” I stop asking my question so I can suck a pink spot on her neck. There’s some irrational need pulsing through me to mark her. To show the world that Reid Duncan scored an absolute knockout. “What do you like?”
“I like a lot of things.” She guides my hand to the front of her underwear. The material is damp, and I groan, turned on by her being turned on. “I’m going to like anything with you.”
I nudge her hand out of the way. I drag my thumb across the seam of the lace, and she whimpers. “You’re already wet. I want—fuck, Avery. Can I see?”
She puts her hand on my head and slowly pushes me to the ground. “You can taste too.”
“Fuck,” I say again, because every other word seems inadequate.
I drop to my knees and hike her dress up her legs. I kiss the top of her thigh, the curve of her hip where her underwear sits high on her waist. I’m eye-level with red lace, and there’s a little bow right on the front.
I lean forward and kiss the soft material. I put my foot flat on the floor so she can rest her heel on my leg. She wraps a hand around the back of my neck, urging me closer, and I laugh.
“Something funny?” she asks.
I look up at her, and she’s watching me. Her nipples are hard, and the left strap of her dress is falling down her arm. I’m so tempted to take the whole damn thing off.
“I like thinking you want me.”
“I do want you.”
“Can I touch you?” I ask, wanting to make sure we’re still on the same page.
“I might kill you if you don’t.”
