Page 30 of Off Camera
“Do you consider kissing people’s asses fun?”
“I mean, I’ll try anything once.”
His smile is devastating. “I don’t like big group things. Tonight was fine because I was with my friends and celebrating something important to me. But three days of shaking people’s hands and pretending like I’m interested in the things they have to say gets really old, really fast.”
“What would your ideal day be if you could do anything you wanted?”
“You don’t want to hear this answer. I’m not ready to give up this cool guy persona I’ve got going for me.”
“Do I think you’re cool?” I ask, squealing when he rolls me on top of him, his hands a welcomed weight on my hips.
“I’d start with a game of Dungeons & Dragons. Then I’d go to the comic book store and make sure I’m not missing out on a new edition of my favorite series. I’d probably playCall of Dutywith my friends and we’d lose. They’re better than me, and I really bring the team down.”
“You can’t be that bad.”
“Twelve-year-olds wipe the floor with me. When they shoot and kill me in the game, they make all these comments about my mom.”
“Oh, to be young again,” I say.
His thumb brushes along my ribs. “If I was really lucky, you’d be there. And I could fuck you everywhere I wanted.”
“Do you want to fuck me in a lot of places?”
“The list in my head is growing by the second. My living room. Against the window. The shower.” He pauses before saying, “Tell me about your ideal day.”
“You’re going to think I’m stuck-up.”
Reid frowns. “Have people called your ideal day stuck-up before?”
“Maybe.”
“Attention. Me.” He traces the underside of my breast. “Not them.”
It’s hard to pay attention to anything when he’s touching me likethis.
“First, I’d go and get my hair done,” I say.
“Is brunette your natural color?”
“Mhm. I went blond once in college and then decided to try pink in my mid-twenties. Neither was a good look. I’d also get a manicure and pedicure. Then I’d watch a sports game at the bar with a bunch of fans and yell until my throat was sore. After, I’d sneak into your apartment and surprise you on your bed while reading a comic book.”
“Naked, hopefully,” he says.
“In a Chewbacca onesie,” I say.
“You know the way to a guy’s heart. Where in that day is you being stuck-up?”
“I don’t know. When I spoil and pamper myself. When I want to look and feel good.”
“There’s no shame in doing things that make you happy.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
His mouth twists. I think he wants to ask another question, but he shifts gears. “What are you doing this week?”
“The first couple of days should be quiet with work, but the last half of the week is going to be busy,” I say.
I’m already picking out the outfits I need to bring to next weekend’s NFL conference and creating a checklist in my head.There’s my keynote speech I have to review and flashcards to put together. A suitcase to pack and content to schedule. All of that seems inconsequential right now, though, when I’m looking down at him.
