Page 102 of Off Camera
“Think you might care about me, Sinclair,” he says into my hair, and I’m struck with the sudden and horrifying realization Idocare about him. “Just a little bit.”
“In your dreams, Duncan,” I say, even though we both know I’m lying. I inhale a deep breath and he presses a kiss to my hair. To my forehead and the curve of my cheekbone. To the corner of my mouth, and my heart skips a beat. “We should get you cleaned up.”
“Whatever you say, Doctor Avery.”
I tug him through the door and sit him on a leather table. I find a washcloth and run it under the faucet, wetting it until it’s soaked. I stand between his legs, and he rests his hand on his thighs. His chest rises and falls too fast for my liking, and I frown.
“Can I touch you?” I ask softly, because this is different from our normal encounters.
This is intimate,personal. Our clothes are on but my body is on fire, aware of every one of his movements.
The press of his thighs. The brush of his fingers over the back of my hand. His exhales, warm on my skin.
“Yes,” he croaks, a fractured word I feel in the center of my chest. In the tiny crevice by my heart, the spot that’s been empty for far too long. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
There might be a deeper meaning there.
Later, when I’m in bed and trying to fall asleep, I’ll overanalyze it and wonder what he meant, but for right now, I take him at face value and fall into caretaking mode.
I cup the back of his head, his sweat-soaked hair soft between my fingers. I dab his forehead and his cheek. The ridge of his nose and the line of his jaw. Reid’s eyes flutter closed, and for half a second, I wonder if he’s asleep.
I like seeing him like this, perfectly at peace and without a phone in his hand. Attentive and present andhere.
I move the rag over to the cheek that’s swollen. His skin is hot to the touch and already tinged shades of pink and red. An expression of pain flashes across his face, but I soothe the sting away with a brush of my fingers, and he melts into me.
I study him, and I’m hit with how beautiful he is. How nice and kind he is, and how willing he is to accept help. The epitome of the perfect man, who one day, when he has the time to slow down and enjoy what’s around him, is going to make someone very happy.
I frown again and settle my hand at the base of his neck, clearing the thought away.
“That feels nice,” he murmurs. It’s hazy, stuck in a fog and probably close to a concussion, but I accept the compliment anyway. How could I not? “Could you follow me around and do that forever?”
I puff out a laugh and rest my forehead against his when he’s cleaned up and good as new. “Reid?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I’d like to kiss you right now. If that’s okay. If you’re feeling up to it.”
He hums and opens his eyes. “I’m definitely feeling up for it. Might help me heal even faster, in fact.”
I move closer to him, until our chests are pressed together and our bodies almost fuse as one. He lifts his chin, in a dare almost, leaving the ball in my court to make the first move.
So I do.
I kiss him not because we’re in the heat of the moment, but because I want to.
Because Ineedto.
“You’re beautiful,” Reid murmurs, and I tuck it away close to my chest. “Sometimes I still can’t believe I get to have you like this.”
“In another part of your stadium?” I ask, my lips moving to his neck. I kiss below his ear. Above his collarbone, and I smile when he tips his head back and groans. “It’s becoming a trend, I’ve noticed.”
“No.” The single word shakes. Turns fraught and hesitant, like he’s afraid to admit this next part out loud. “Like you’re mine.”
A thousand emotions hit me at once, and when I pull back, I see them in his eyes too.
Mine.
It’s been so long since I’ve belonged to someone, but I like how it feels with Reid.
