Page 104 of Off Camera
Me
That’s the plan for later tonight.
Hopefully you’re willing to lend a helping hand.
Reid
And if I’m not?
Me
You can sit in the corner and watch.
“I hope Mexican food is okay.”Reid sets down a large paper bag on my kitchen island. “Enchiladas sounded fucking amazing.”
“Perfect.” I stand on my toes and grab two plates from the cabinet, putting them next to a dish of queso. “How was your meeting?”
“Not bad. A professional development one-on-one with my boss. Seems like he’s changed his tune as far as my performance goes. I had a couple videos go viral in the past week, and merchandise sales are up. We’ve also secured some large group ticket sales for December around the holidays, so things are looking encouraging on all fronts.”
“Still think you’re going to win our bet?” I ask, putting a hand on my hip.
Reid crowds my space. He tilts my chin to meet his gaze, and his eyes are dark. “Without a doubt,” he says nice and low before he kisses me, and I know it’s a promise of what’s to come later tonight.
I shiver at the press of his mouth. I hum in appreciation when he lifts me in one easy swoop and sets me on the counter. A knife clatters into the sink, and the bottle of chardonnay I pulled out of the fridge nearly rolls onto the floor.
“Your cockiness isn’t cute,” I say. “But your new glasses are.”
“I bet your wet pussy would tell me differently.”
He’s right.
My underwear is damp. My nipples pebble under my shirt, and I cross my arms over my chest so he can’t see the effect he has on me. “In your dreams, Duncan.”
“Trust me, you’re always wet in my dreams,” Reid says, and I can’t help but laugh. “You’re also usually naked in my bed and reading a comic book.”
He steps back and pops a chip in his mouth, leaving me breathless and aching for him. The asshole knows it, too, because he clamps down on a smile. His attention bounces to the front of my shorts and holds there until my legs open and I rest my hand on my thigh, teasing him like he’s teasing me.
“I’m glad to see you’re still on two feet after your less than stellar baseball play,” I say. “Any lingering pain?”
“No,” he rasps, pulling his gaze to the bag of food. He unloads two Styrofoam boxes and sets them on the counter. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since then. How was Denver?”
“Fun. It would be a beautiful place to live. Winning helped, and the guys are finally finding their groove. Malcolm is gelling well with the offense and—” I shut my mouth and giggle at the expression on Reid’s face. “You don’t care about this, do you?”
“What gave it away?”
“You look like I just started talking about calculus and physics.”
“That’s not right. If you started talking about calculus, I’d be fucking giddy. I’m a numbers guy, Sinclair. Integrals are my form of dirty talk.”
“Sounds like I need to step it up in the bedroom,” I tease, and his sharp gaze cuts to mine. “What?”
Reid moves closer to me and cups my cheek. “You don’t need to step anything up. You drive me crazy.”
“I do?” I ask, and he nods.
“All the fucking time. With your text messages. With your photos. When you’re ribbing me on your official account.” Reid drags his thumb over my bottom lip. “The things I want to do to this smart fucking mouth.”
“What kind of things do you want to do?”
