Caught on Camera (Love Through a Lens, #1)

by Chelsea Curto

Lacey tilts her head back and laughs, and it’s such a bright sound. It might be below freezing outside, but her laugh is warm. Inviting. Sunshine in human form, and one of my favorite noises.

I might burst into a million pieces. I might turn to stardust and ascend to the clouds or somewhere beyond because every press of his fingers, every exhale and little huff of appreciation when I touch the stubble on his cheeks, every inch he pulls me closer drives my want, my need, higher and higher.

His cheeks are flushed. It’s cold outside, but he’s as hot as the sun. His thumb traces up my jaw and across my mouth. He pulls at my bottom lip like he’s claiming it for himself. As if that kiss didn’t just tattoo his name across every inch of my body.

Our gazes meet, and there’s fire behind his eyes. A blaze burns in the flecks of gold in his irises. The longer he stares, the longer his attention doesn’t waver, the more I think I’d like the flames to engulf me. Make me one of theirs and never let me go.

“I have plenty of self-control, Lacey,” he says, and there’s a roughness in his voice that wasn’t there before. “But you should know I can be very persuasive when needed.”

“My dreams are boring.” “I highly doubt that. There’s not a boring bone in your body,” Shawn says. He touches my cheek, and I let out a breath. “Will you share your dreams with me?”

“Guess I just wanted an excuse to see you, daffodil.”

“Doesn’t matter. Fake. Real. I don’t give a shit. I take care of what’s mine, and right now, you are mine.”

“Please don’t tell me you think Die Hard is a Christmas movie.” “Shawn, it literally takes place on Christmas Eve. How is it not a Christmas movie?”

“Lacey girl,” he whispers. I love when he calls me that.

I shouldn’t have kissed her again. I shouldn’t have let her see how easily she affects me, but it’s too late now. I got a taste, but now I want the whole fucking thing.

“Because once you tell me yes, I’m going to make sure no man is ever good enough for you again.”

I can smell her. I can see how wet her underwear is. The little scrap of lace is drenched, and I want to pull it off and shove it in her mouth so she can taste herself. So she can keep quiet while I fuck her into the mattress and leave a handprint on her ass. A mark that reminds her who was there when she tries to sit down at work tomorrow.

I want to ruin her, but I can’t ruin my best friend. She’s too good. But if I only get her once, I’m going to make sure she won’t forget me anytime soon. I’m going to claim her, so every time someone else is inside her, she’ll be thinking of me.

I slide my finger out of her and bring it to her mouth. I trace her lips until they’re coated in her arousal and I lean forward to kiss her. My tongue runs along the seam of her mouth, tasting her, and she’s better than the finest desserts in the world.

“Going to fuck you raw,” he says through a strangled exhale. “Really make you mine.”

“Do you want me?” I ask him, and in the dead of night there’s no one around to hear his answer. No one to see the way he kisses me and pulls me close. Up here, it’s just us, nothing but the light of the moon, the stars in the sky, and our naked bodies as we reach for each other.

“I’ll tell you a secret: once is never going to be enough. I’m going to think about you every goddamn night until the day I die.”

He blinks up at me, and there are stars in his eyes and a smile on his lips. “I’m going to go,” I say, but I don’t make any effort to leave.

My phone buzzes in my hand and I open the text message. It’s from Shawn, the words good night written on the window directly above the rumpled sheets where we just laid. My heart twists in my chest, and I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.

We stare at each other, and I realize I don’t want to hang up with him. I want to keep talking and ask about their practice tomorrow. I want to find out if the Christmas tree in his apartment is real or fake. I think I might just want… him.

It’s the first time he’s ever mentioned an us after New Year’s Eve. A we. The possibility of this situation we’ve found ourselves in continuing past our end date hangs in the air like a question mark instead of a period. A comma, perhaps. Something open-ended rather than closed off and punctuated.

We both know what I’m doing, and we both know how this ends. I’m playing with fire, but I think I want to burn.

“Already wet. I love you like this. I love having you like this.” “How?” I breathe out, and rationality is close to flying out the window. “Horny?” “No.” His touch is unhurried and lazy, not a care in the goddamn world about how long it takes to get me to where I want to be. “Mine.”

“Two million dollars? Are you kidding me? That is so generous. Is that—can you—” “Afford it?” I laugh and rest my forehead against hers. “I can afford it fifty times over, sweetheart, then I could still buy you whatever you want.”

“Please what?” I ask. I sit up on my knees and bend over her so I can kiss her. “I told you I’ll give you whatever you want. You just have to ask.”

“You feel more like home to me every day.”

We look at each other at the same time. It’s like we’re sneaking glances, stolen moments no one else can see.

This woman saved me tonight, and I’m starting to wonder if she wasn’t put in my life by accident but for a very specific reason. To be mine until the end of time.

“You’re staring at me.” “Just…” I take a breath, and there’s a pull in my gut. A twist in my chest the longer she looks at me. It’s warm and pleasant. Dizzyingly so. I want her to keep looking at me and to never stop. “You,” I say, and I gesture up and down her body. “You,” I repeat, and it sounds more important the second time.

I hum, content and comfortable. I can feel Lacey’s heartbeat, a staccato rhythm that starts to slow when I settle in her arms. Mine starts to slow too, like I reached the top of a mountain and I’m finally going down the other side.

Tenderness glimmers in her eyes, and it seems like there’s something on the tip of her tongue. Something hangs between us, a realization that this is different than the other times we’ve kissed.

When she lifts her hips and pins them against mine, I want to ask her to marry me. When she kisses me with fire behind her mouth, I want to tell her I’ll give her anything she asks.

“No.” I reach out and grab his arm faster than I can blink. “Stay,” I say, and I stick out my bottom lip. Heat flares behind his eyes, a burning gaze I feel deep in my belly. “Please. I like you being here more than I like being alone.”

“We’re still friends who fuck, right?” he asks in my ear, and it sounds like sin. His teeth nip at my skin, and I tilt my head to the side to give him better access to my neck. I want to feel him everywhere. “Can I have you?”

“We can keep pretending we’re just fuck buddies, Lacey, but you’re wearing my shirt with nothing underneath it. What about this feels fake to you?”

“I like watching you like this. I like having you like this. I love when you come on my cock, sweetheart. It’s our secret, right?”

“Now that you’ve had both in the same night, which is better? Me, or the dessert?” “Ah, Lacey girl.” Shawn rubs his thumb down the curve of my cheek. The lights from my Christmas tree twinkle in his eyes, and he’s wearing the biggest smile. “You win every time. It’s not even close. Even with a billion choices, it would still be you.”

“She’s my favorite person in the entire world.” “The entire world?” Eliza wrinkles her nose. “But there are a lot of people. You haven’t met them all.” “Doesn’t matter. She’s still my favorite,”

I wrap my arms around her and hug her tight. We stay like that for a minute, the wreath on the door our only witness, and I kiss her forehead. She’s warm under my mouth, and I want to kiss her everywhere.

Maybe Shawn and I can just exist, soaked in gratitude and warmth and the spirit of the best time of the year. Maybe the rest will work itself out, what’s meant to be finding a way to be. Maybe we don’t have to rush it; it’s something we can ease into, like a bath or fresh cup of coffee.

If I blinked, I would’ve missed the way Shawn’s eyes widened. The dip of his chin and the touch of pink on the tips of his ears. But I don’t miss it. I see it as clear as day, just like I see him.

My laughter dies in my throat when I see Shawn staring at me. “What?” I ask, a ghost of a question. “You,” he says, and I reach for him the same time he reaches for me.

He’s always been my safe space, my favorite person in the world from the moment I first met him. Maybe he could be that for me forever. When Shawn sets me on his lap and pulls my shirt over my head, I see it in his eyes. He’s thinking it, too.

I pause for a breath to carefully choose my next words. I’m done talking about what’s happening between us like it’s pretend. Like it’s fake. Like she and I both can’t feel the immense pull we have toward each other, a thread unraveling as we get closer and closer.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. If you gave me a million options, I’d choose here with you every single time.”

“Do you think you could keep holding the door open for me?” It’s ambiguous. Open-ended and with a thousand different meanings. I know what she’s asking, though, and I know what my answer is. “Yeah,” I say. “I’ll hold it open for you as long as you’d like. Would that be okay with you?”

“I’m yours, right?” I ask, and his throat bobs. “Right,” he says, and his voice is hard around the edges but soft in the middle with the single word. “You are.” “Then you should know you can kiss me whenever you want. Audience, no audience. The answer will always be yes,” I whisper, and the air leaves my lungs when he captures my mouth with his.

“You’re smiling,” he says against my lips, and I can feel him smiling, too. “What are you thinking about?” “You,” I say. “Me. Us.” “Us, huh?”

“Hey.” The deep voice I could recognize in the dead of night without eyesight caresses down my cheek. Glides down my back and spreads over my shoulders. It settles against my heart, a cat curled up for a nap in the indulgent summer sun.