Behind the Camera (Love through a Lens, #2)

by Chelsea Curto

“I shouldn’t.” I let go of the necklace and stare at the way it hangs from his neck. It’s shorter on him, almost a choker, and I didn’t know I had an attraction toward men in gold chains until now. “How long have you had this?” “Since the day after the paint room. You left it on the kitchen counter. I meant to give it back to you—I put it on as a joke, but then I forgot about it and…” “And you’ve been wearing it since.” “All day, every day.” He lowers his chin, and his mouth is mere inches from my ear. His breath is warm on my skin, and I shiver. “I like having something that reminds me of you. Can I keep it?” I’m tempted to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him right here, in front of the entire team. It’s like he’s staked a claim on me. Marked me as his and marked himself as mine, too. “Yes,” I say. “Because you look hot as hell wearing it.” “She finally admits I’m hot,” he murmurs, a teasing lilt to his words. “Only took three fucking months. I should’ve shown it to you sooner.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Lansfield.” “It already has, sunshine. Admit it, you’re obsessed with me.”

“Something like that.” I clear my throat and fix the strap of my camera around my neck. Dallas stares at my throat before he glances away. “I’m, uh, going to get some final shots of the team then grab June from the nursery. Want to text me when you’re ready to meet at the car?” “Sounds good. They don’t need me in media tonight, so it shouldn’t take too long.” He smiles and rubs his jaw. “I can’t wait to get home.” “Me too,” I whisper.

Dallas sits on the grass. His long legs stretch out in front of him, and I join him. “What’s going on?” “I don’t know. The apartment felt so empty with you both gone, and I had this idea that I’d come up to the field and kick around for shits and giggles. Except, I got here, and I just couldn’t.” “What are you afraid of?” “Failing,” I blurt out. I’ve thought it, but it’s the first time I’ve voiced it since my injury. “Just because you’re scared to do something doesn’t mean you’re going to fail.” “I know. It’s just hard to be here and not associate it with who I was before. But when I’m not here, it feels like a piece of me is missing. It’s like my heart is playing tug of war, and I’m doubting myself.” “I wish I could show you how June and I see you. Then you’d never doubt yourself.” “How do you see me?” I ask, and I’ve never wanted to hear the answer to a question more in my life. “You’re the most incredible person in the world.” Dallas lies on his back and crosses his hands over his chest. “You’re fearless and you work hard. You never give up, even when everything is going against you. You’ve got a kind heart, and you care about others. Every day with you, Maven, is a good day. The best day, and if I had to pick a woman I hope June grows up to be like, it’d be you.” He turns his cheek and looks up at me. His mouth splits into a grin, and I feel it in every empty part of myself. “It’s okay to be afraid, but I never

want you to think you’re not capable. Do you remember how you told me you like messy? You like complicated?” “Yes,” I say, and I lay down beside him. “You’re safe with me, too. You’re allowed to mess up. If you fall, you dust yourself off and try again tomorrow. Maybe next time you’ll get a little further. Maybe it’ll take you a month before you even kick a ball again, but guess what? I’ll be out here with you every day until it feels right.”

“Where did you get the soccer ball?” I ask, and his eyes trace over my face. “You’ve never looked in that closet in the hallway?” he teases, and I shake my head. “No. I always assumed it was stuff you wanted to keep private. It wasn’t mine to snoop through.” His gaze softens into a grateful look that almost cleaves my heart in two. “I bought it the day after you told me about your injury. We weren’t as close as we are now, but I could see that fire in you. I wanted to have one in the apartment, just in case you wanted to try to play again.”

“You might be the nicest person I’ve ever met,” I whisper. My thumb strokes his cheek, and he sighs. “What did I do to deserve you in my life, Dallas?” “I ask myself that every day. You’re my best friend, Maven. You know that, right?” I nod, a bob of my head, because words are too hard to use right now. I hold his gaze, though, so he knows he’s my best friend, too. “I take care of the people I care about, and you’re on that list, right below June. Some days you take the top spot, not because I love my daughter any less, but because what I feel for you is different than what I feel for her.” He shakes his head. “I’m always going to be in your corner.”

“I think I want to try,” I say. “Right now. Will you try with me?” “I’d do anything with you, Maven,” he says.

It’s far from the goals I’ve scored. The penalty shots I’ve knocked down to send my team to the Final Four. It’s not even as monumental as the kicks kids do. The old Maven would laugh at how silly it is that I’m staring at the ball like it’s made of gold. But it’s something, and something is better than nothing. “I did it,” I say, and turn to Dallas. “Can you⁠—” “Whatever you want. Whatever you need. Let’s go, sunshine.” Dallas jogs after the ball, running backwards so he can keep his eyes on me. Every few feet he looks behind him to check on June, too. He taps the ball back, and I touch my cleats to it a few times, getting reacquainted with the magical way the leather feels. I pass to him, a harder kick that has my blood pounding in my ears. He laughs and chases after it, stopping it with the back of his heel. “Look at you,” I say, impressed. “Look at you,” he says. “A fucking rockstar.” “I wanna play,” June says when she runs up to us, and she kicks her ball to me. “Can you pass to me, Mae Mae?” “Of course I’ll pass to you, JB.”

his eyes track down my body in a slow perusal of my outfit. He starts at my crop top and moves to the leather skirt that hits the top of my thigh. He lands on my knee-high boots, and he lets out a soft puff of air. “Wow.” “Is it too much?” I pull on the hem of the skirt and try to make it longer. “I’ve only been in overalls and khakis between here and the stadium. This is the first time I’ve worn something nice in a⁠—” “Nothing about you could ever be too much. You look beautiful.”

“Beautiful,” June agrees, and her eyes flutter closed. She puts her thumb in her mouth and drifts off to sleep, using Dallas as her pillow. He doesn’t seem to mind. “See? Kids never lie,” he says. “Can I see the back of your outfit? Please?” I do an exaggeratedly slow circle and take my time. I’m teasing him a little bit, but it’s only fair to make him suffer when he’s sitting there in gray sweatpants that have no right to look as good as they do. “Like this?” “That’s perfect, Maven.”

“Do you like what you see?” I ask, playing with fire. “No.” “Oh.” I turn my cheek, embarrassed, only for him to curl his fingers around my chin. He tilts my head back until our gazes meet. Dallas bends down, and his mouth brushes against my ear. “I love what I see,” he says, dark and low. “Maybe I wore this outfit for you,” I find myself saying, and this isn’t part of our game. This is real, honest truth I want him to hear. “Maybe I wanted you to miss me while I’m gone.” “You could wear a sack, Maven, and I’d still miss you.” His hand drops to my hip, and his fingers press into the small sliver of exposed skin at the hem of my shirt. “Will you let me know when you get there?” “I will.”

“Anything else?” I ask. “Yeah.” He bends down and kisses my cheek. It’s a soft graze of his lips, the exact replica of what he did at the paint room, but it’s cataclysmic enough to spread through me like a wildfire. “We’ll be counting down the minutes until you’re home.”

“Have fun, Mae. Call if you need anything.” “Are you going to stare at my ass again?” His mouth twitches, and one dimple pops on his cheek. “It would be criminal not to.” “I’m all for law abiding citizens.” I wiggle out of his hold and turn around, looking at him over my shoulder. His eyes are fixed on my hips, and there’s no shame in his appreciation of my body. “For the record, I’m going to miss you, too.” “Thatta girl,” he says with a wicked grin, getting the last word, and I don’t stop blushing until I’m out on the street in the fresh air.

The light above the stove is on, and I smell coffee. My eyes catch on a Post-it note stuck to the cabinet, and I smile when I see an empty mug beneath it. On the balcony if you want to join. My secret spot is yours too. -D I pour myself a cup and make my way toward the balcony doors.

He’s impossible to miss, shirtless and leaning over the railing of the balcony with a steaming mug in his hand, but I know I’d find him even in a crowd of people. “Been waiting for you,” he says. He looks at me over his shoulder, and his mouth curves into a double-dimpled smile. There’s a crease on his cheek from his pillow, and his hair is sticking up in six different directions. “Come here.”

I’m a weak woman, and there’s nothing this man could ask that I wouldn’t do. Our arms touch when I stand next to him. Our shoulders brush, and the heat from his body wraps me in a warm embrace. “Hi,” I say. “Hey, sunshine. How was your night?” I rest my elbows on the metal ledge, mirroring him, and stare out at the city below. “It was good. I’m glad I got to see Isabella.” “How do y’all know each other?” “We played at Georgetown together. She’s the first person I met on campus my freshman year, and we just kind of clicked.” “It’s good to have friends like that. They’re harder to find the older you get, so keep the good ones around.” “You have lots of friends. Are they all good?” “I know lots of people,” he counters. “There’s a big difference. I would only consider a few to be friends.” “I’m honored to make the cut.” “Who says you’re on the list?” Dallas teases, and I roll my eyes. “I must’ve imagined you calling me your best friend, then.” “You know you take the top spot, Maven.”

“I have a lot on my mind, and coffee at midnight seems to be the only antidote to overthinking.” “This is my first time indulging in your method, but so far, I like it. Is there anything you want to talk about? You know I’m happy to listen.” “What isn’t there to talk about? We lost again last week. I’m boarding a plane and flying across the country in six hours.” His eyes cut over to me, and he pops a shoulder, something left unsaid. You. “There’s a lot going on upstairs, but being out here helps.” I hum and tilt my chin up to admire the twinkling stars. “I can see why this is your secret spot. It’s beautiful, and I feel like there’s a sense of clarity out here. I could stay forever and never get sick of it.” “Yeah,” Dallas says. I turn my head to look at him, and he’s already staring at me. A torn expression takes over his face and the late night moonlight bathes his bare torso in shades of silver and gray. His goofy grin is gone, and it’s replaced with a soft smile I feel behind my ribs. My fingers itch to trace the column of his throat. The lines of his body and the sculpted slopes of a physique perfectly crafted from hours of exercise and exertion. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Me. He's talking about me. His eyes twinkle, and he keeps his gaze locked in place, a sure thing in a world full of maybes. That pressure behind my ribs expands, a weight on my chest the longer I look at him, and it’s hard to take a deep breath. “My view isn’t so bad either,” I reply. It’s quiet enough for him to shrug it off and pretend like he didn’t hear me. I expect him to ignore it, to let it slip by, another admission from a silly girl with a silly crush on the man she can’t have. Instead, he steps closer. I can hear his breathing—slow and steady until it changes to rough and ragged when the cotton of my shirt presses into his tan, bare skin. A nearly silent gasp falls from his mouth when neither one of us pulls away, and I wonder what else I could do to hear that sound again. “Maven,” he murmurs, sweet like honey. I wish he’d find a way to whisper my name like that every second of every day. It’s reverent. Secret. Loving. He doesn’t talk to anyone else like that, and I know I’m the lucky one. I tip my head back. He reaches out and cups my cheek with his free hand. His thumb is warm as it runs down my jaw and hooks around my chin, a spot I think might be his favorite. I sigh and close my eyes, trying to find more of his touch, if only for a second. “Fuck,” he says around an exhale before it gets snatched up by the breeze.

“I wish you would,” I say, turning my cheek and biting the pad of his thumb. His laugh is made of pure delight, a beautiful, wicked thing I feel deep in my belly. “Seeing you like this makes me lose my mind. It makes me want you in all the ways I can’t have you.” “Would it really be so bad if you lost your mind?” I ask. “If you lost it with me?” “You’re the only person I’d want to lose it with.” Dallas takes a step to his left and puts distance between us. His sigh is heavy and anguished, as if space is the last thing on his mind. “But I have to think of someone other than myself.” “You always put others before yourself, Dallas. What would you do if you could be selfish for once? This is your secret spot—tell me a secret.” “Sometimes I can’t remember what my life was like before you were in it,” he whispers. “Everything about you has been unintentional and the biggest surprise. I’d go through eight hundred nannies if it meant finding you again.” “Eight hundred?” I whisper back. “That’s too many. Imagine all the pictures of your dick the internet would have.” “It would be worth it. You’ve filled all the quie...

“I might not be able to have you how I want,” I say softly, and his grip on my hand tightens. “But I’m so lucky to have you.” “Of all the sports teams in the city, you stumbled into mine.” Dallas chuckles, a wisp of a laugh that sounds starkly beautiful under the inky night sky. “I’m not one to believe in divine intervention, but someone up there saw that I was struggling, and they sent me the best gift I could ever ask for. You.” “We have got to stop having these emotional conversations. Why can’t we talk about the weather like normal people instead of spilling our guts like lunatics?” “Where’s the fun in that?” His arm drapes over my shoulder, and he gives me a sideways hug. “Watching you turn into a blubbery fucking mess is one of my favorite things.” “Asshole,” I grumble under my breath, and I swat at his chest. “Speaking of fucking messes, you’re going to be a nightmare on your flight. Shawn is going to kill you when he sees the dark circles under your eyes.” “Ah, well. It’s worth it. Life is short—you have to tell people how you feel about them.”

I swallow. “You’ve filled the sad parts of my life, Dallas. You’ve taught me how to be happy again.” “You would’ve gotten there on your own, Mae.” “Maybe. But I’ve gotten there a lot quicker because of you.” “That’s what friends are for. They help pick you up when you’re down and remind you why you started in the first place.” “Friends,” I repeat. “Right.”

How was your night? What are you doing?” “It was good. I just got in bed, and I’m going to do some reading.” “Which book? The one with all the red tabs you left by the couch?” I stare at him, and my mouth pops open. “How do you know about the tabs?” “Confession. I’ve been reading your books,” Dallas says with a sheepish smile. “Which books?” “All of them. The one you forgot on the kitchen counter the other day. The ones you have next to your bed. I can’t put them down.”

“Stop.” I laugh and sit up. I bring my legs to my chest and rest my chin on my knees. “You’re fucking with me. There’s no way you read my romance novels.” “Why? Because I’m an illiterate football player?” “Because they’re love stories with all these grand gestures and sweeping declarations. There isn’t any blood or guts or anything you would find interesting.” “Blood and guts are overrated,” he says. “Why didn’t you tell me? I have a whole bookshelf you can look at if you want.” “Sneaking them from you is way more fun.” “This makes so much more sense. My bookmark was in the wrong spot the other night, and I thought I was imagining things when I picked it up yesterday.” “Sorry. Next time I’ll make sure it’s on the right page. What do the tabs mean?” “It’s a way of keeping track of things I like in the book. They’re color-coded. Blue represents something sad. Orange is for the things that make me happy. Pink is for the quotes I love.” “And red?” he asks, and I swallow. “The one I shoved in my suitcase has a lot of red tabs in it.” “Um. Those are things I find hot. Scenes I’d like to try or think I’d enjoy,” I say shakily. “Oh.” He leans forward in his chair and stares at me through the phone. “The toy scene? When they were out at a restaurant?” “Yeah.” I nod, and I think the room might burst into flames. “It’s my favorite part.” “I liked it too.”

“I didn’t know you were into toys.” “Why wouldn’t I be into toys?” “I don’t know. Doesn’t it take away some of the power from the guy?” “Full disclosure: I’ve never been with a woman while she used one,” Dallas says, and his cheeks are red. “But I imagine it would be sexy. I’d get to watch her get off on her terms. I could see the things she likes and learn from her. I mean, yeah, she’s ...

“What are you thinking about right now?” I ask.

“Something I’m not supposed to be thinking about.” His voice is low and strained. It cracks on the last two words, like he’s trying with all his might to step away but just can’t. “I’m thinking about you, Maven. I’m always fucking thinking about you. How I wish you were here. How much I miss you.”

“What would you do if I were there? Would you finally touch me, Dallas?” “I can’t touch you,” he says, and the look on his face is ragged. Desperate and irritated and mad at the world. “But fuck if that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

“This is okay, right? You’re not touching me. You’re just looking.” “You found a loophole,” he murmurs, full of praise, and I blush at the attention. “You like me looking at you, don’t you?” “Yes,” I admit, and I play with the thin strap of my top. “It makes me feel wanted.” “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else, Mae. In another world, you’d already be mine.”

“I’d like that,” I whisper. “I’d like that a lot.” “Would you do something for me?” Dallas asks, and I nod. I’d do anything for this man. “Go to my bedroom.” “Why?” “You’ll see.”

“Please don’t tell me there’s a body in here.” “I took all the bodies with me. Go to my closet. There’s a box on the top shelf. See if you can reach it.” I head across the rug to the walk-in closet. I have to stand on my toes to grab it, but I finally sweep it into my arms. “Why am I looking at a box addressed to you?” “Bring it to the bed.” “You’re so bossy.” I jump onto the mattress and cross my legs. “What is it?” “Something I think belongs to you.” I frown and pull off the top of the box. My mouth drops open when I see what’s inside. “Oh my god. You have my vibrator.” His grin is delicious, and I wonder what it would feel like pressed to the inside of my thigh. “I do.” “I’ve been looking for this all week! I got a refund after I claimed it was never delivered.” “It was delivered all right. You must have left my name in the address box after you ordered something for the apartment. Imagine my surprise when I opened it up and saw that. I thought it was a joke at first, but then I realized it was probably yours.”

“I had to get a new one. I could only live with a hot football player for so long before I gave in and ordered the top-of-the-line model.” “You deserve the top-of-the-line model. Maybe you should use it.” “Of course I’m going to use it.” “Maybe you should use it right now,” Dallas says. “And I could watch.” I suck in a sharp breath. “What about your rules?” “I’m not allowed to touch you, but you can touch yourself. That’s not against the rules.” Heat flares through me. “Now who’s the one finding loopholes?” “Do it in my bed. If I can’t fucking taste you for myself, I want to smell your come on my sheets when I get home.” Jesus Christ. That’s the hottest thing a man has ever said to me.

“Goddammit. They don’t make these things easy to get into.” “Having some trouble there?” Dallas pulls off his shirt, and I’m momentarily distracted by his stomach and the muscles across his chest. He stands up and walks to the hotel room bed, getting comfortable. “Take all the time you need, honey. You’re worth the wait.”

“Don’t you want to shower?” “I’ll shower after. Want to watch you come first.”

“How’s that? Can you see me?” “Perfect,” he says. “You’re perfect, Maven.” “Clothes? On or off?” Dallas makes a strangled sound. “I want to say off, but if I do, I might charter a plane back to D.C.” “On, then. But I’m going to take off my shirt.”

“Jesus,” he whispers. “Can you—” he squeezes his eyes closed before they fly open again, like he’s afraid to miss something. “Can you get closer? I don’t mean to be so demanding, but your tits⁠—” “Yeah?” I get on my knees and crawl toward the camera. I run my hands over my breasts and push them together. Dallas groans, and I bite back a smile. “You like them? I never pegged you for a boob guy.” “With you, I don’t give a shit what it is. Your fucking elbow turns me on.” “There’s probably a market for that.” His chuckle is soft and light, and god, I wish he were here with me right now. “Probably.” I pinch my nipples between my fingers and drop my head back. “Fuck. I haven’t really touched myself in a while.” “You haven’t?” “I’ve been busy. Have you touched yourself recently?” “Last night,” he admits. “Or, this morning, I guess. After our talk on the balcony. Those fucking shorts of yours drive me insane, Maven.” “You know I’m not going to apologize.”

“Of course you aren’t. God damn, sunshine. Your tits are incredible. I bet they’d bounce when I fucked you, wouldn’t they? They’d look nice and pretty when I covered them with my come.”

“I’d let you do that, Dallas. I’d let you do anything to me.” “Anything? You’d let me fuck every hole of yours? Make them mine? Ruin you so much that you couldn’t walk in a straight line at a game while millions of people were watching? I might be a little out of practice, but I still know how to fuck you like you deserve.”

“All of me,” I say. “It’s all yours.” I bring the toy down my stomach. Dallas’s right hand disappears, and I hope he’s touching himself. “Go slow,” he demands, and his voice is thick with lust. “It’s been a while, and I want to enjoy this. Enjoy you. Too fast and it’ll be over in a second.” “I’ll go slow.” I drag the vibrator up my thigh and over the front of my shorts. “As slow as you want.”

“Look at you. You’re fucking drenched for me,” he says like a prayer. “You sure this is for you, hot shot?” I smirk, and begin to move my hand in a slow circle.

“I dare it to be for someone else, Maven,” he says. “We both know you bought that toy so you could touch yourself while you thought about me.”

“Tell me the truth, Maven. Who do you think about when you use your toy?” “You,” she whines, and smug possessiveness pulses through me. “Of course I think about you. I wish you were touching me right now.” “So do I, pretty girl,” I rasp, one hand around my dick. I’ve never been this hard in my life and I give myself a few quick strokes, dangerously close to blowing a load. “I’d make you feel good.” “Can I see you?” she asks, and she runs her tongue over her bottom lip like she’s fucking starving for a sight of my dick. “Can I see how hard you are, Dallas? Please?” That sweet little please is my undoing. I scramble to flip the camera around and drag my hand over the head of my cock. Pre-cum soaks my thumb, and I use the moisture to give myself another rough jerk before resting my palm on my thigh. I turn the phone to the side so she can see my whole length. I’ve never had phone sex or sent a dick pic before, and I hope the angle is okay.

“Jesus,” Maven whispers, and that must be a good sign. I must’ve done something right. “You’re so big. You don’t even fit in the frame.” “Stop flattering me, Mae,” I say through a laugh. “I’m already going to think about you when I come. You don’t have to inflate my ego.” “You’re the biggest I’ve ever seen. I’m not sure how you’d fit.”

“We’d make it fit,” I growl, and I don’t recognize my own voice. It’s rough and hoarse, and I’m barely holding on. I’ve never been this turned on in my life, and knowing she’s feeling the same way has my brain even more scrambled. “You’d take every inch like a champ, Maven. Because you’re so fucking good.”

“I don’t think I can go slow anymore,” she pants, and her left hand grabs her tit. She squeezes her nipple between her fingers then twists, and I make a mental note of what she’s doing. Of what she likes. “I need to come, Dallas. Are you close? I want to get there together.” “Don’t worry about me. Pull your shorts to the side and make yourself come, Maven. You’ve done so well going slow for me, and I want to see what your cunt looks like when you get off thinking about the man you can’t have.”

“Dallas,” she says around a breathy exhale, and that’s the nail in my coffin. As if I ever stood a fucking chance. I close my eyes and jerk my cock four more times before I fall over the ledge of a mountain and spill all over my hand. My chest heaves and my lungs constrict as I try to suck down some air. I will my body to calm down, but my limbs are heavy. My vision blurs, and I’ve forgotten my name. There’s a mess on my stomach and hips, and I feel stickiness on my palm. When I crack an eye open, I find Maven watching me with flushed cheeks. “Hi,” I say, unsure of what happens next. “Hi,” she says back, and her mouth pulls up into a soft smile. “Did I—was I⁠—” “Oh.” Her eyes sparkle, and she bites her bottom lip. “Best I ever had.” “You’re just saying that. The bar is men peeing on your mattress, Mae.” “No.” She puts her chin in her hand, and her smile stretches wider. She looks perfectly sated and perfectly beautiful. “I’m serious, Dallas.”

I take a deep breath. “Are we good? I didn’t just massively fuck up our⁠—”

“If you say friendship, Lansfield, I will find a way to murder you from here,” she says. “We’re perfectly fine. That was incredible. You were incredible. What fun is it to be attracted to someone and not do anything about it?” I reach for my discarded shirt and wipe my hand clean. “I thought I was supposed to be the older and wiser one.” “You’re certainly older.” I laugh and drop my head against the pillows.

I was selfish for once, greedy and goddamn determined, and it paid off. I want to do it again. “I miss you,” I confess. “I miss you, too,” she says, and she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “What are you going to do the rest of the night?” “After that? I’m spent. You ruined me. I wish I could go to bed, but I have a stupid team dinner.” “When are you⁠—” A knock cuts her off. I stare at my hotel door and frown. “Are you in there, Lansfield?” Shawn asks loud enough for me to hear, and I drop the phone. “Fuck. Fuck,” I hiss. “I need to go.” “Is that Shawn?” she asks, and I nod. “Yes, and I prefer if he didn’t know I just watched you orgasm all over that toy of yours.”

“Jesus Christ. Talk about cockblocking.”