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

by Chelsea Curto

His attention moves to my mouth, and he lets out a soft sound that’s reminiscent of a tortured moan. “Forehead?” “Sure,” I say, a little breathless. It feels like I’m floating, walking on the clouds toward something I can’t quite see yet. “That’s good.”

“Not just good,” he murmurs, and his voice is deeper than I’ve ever heard it. “Fucking perfect.”

My fingers brush against Dallas’s free hand, and when I go to pull away, his pinky hooks around mine, keeping me in place.

We were good, until he was on top of me. Now all I’m thinking about is what his mouth would feel like on every other part of my body, and something tells me that’s not good at all.

“I’m very particular with the people I let get close to me. Women especially. But if you moved in, I wouldn’t feel like I had to sleep with my door locked. I trust you.” His voice turns gentle, the ebb of the tide as it pulls back to sea. “You’re the first person I’ve felt comfortable with in a long time. Ever, maybe. I can be myself with you and… that’s the best kind of friend I could ever want. Why wouldn’t I want you around more?”

I’d die if she let me put my head between her legs. I’d go to heaven if she hooked a calf over my shoulder and let me touch all the parts of her she’s proud of.

I think my time of death is going to be just before 11 a.m. in the middle of a fucking football field. There’s my last name stretched boldly across her shoulders like it’s hers, too. There’s her round ass, covered by tight leather. There’s the back of her neck, a few strands of hair sticking to her skin. Christ. I need someone to revive me.

“You should know, Mae, since you’re wearing my jersey, it’s yours for the rest of the season,” I say lowly, and she lifts an eyebrow, intrigued. “Is that so?” she asks, and I rub my thumb across her pulse point. Her breath catches, and she looks down at where we’re joined. “I didn’t realize there were jersey wearing rules.” “I’m making my own rules. If you put on another guy’s jersey, I’m going to have to take it off of you.” “That sounds like it could be fun.” Her eyes twinkle, and she smirks. “I’ve always liked a challenge. Now that I know how to rile you up, I might have to see just how far I can push.”

Dallas fumbles with something under the collar of his jersey. There’s a flash of gold and I watch as he pulls out a necklace—my necklace. The one I thought I lost two months ago and gave up trying to find. He’s wearing it without a care in the world, and something about his smug confidence tells me he’s had it in his possession for a very long time. “Seems like I have a good luck charm with me,” he says, rough and low. He holds up the M and keeps his eyes on me as he kisses the letter then runs his tongue over the chain. It feels like he’s running his tongue over me and the places of my body I desperately want him to touch. “I think I’m going to wear it every game.” Holy shit.

“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.

“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.

I’ll be out here with you every day until it feels right.”

Hearing his words feels a lot like flying.

“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 think I want to try,” I say. “Right now. Will you try with me?”

“I’d do anything with you, Maven,” he says.

“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.”

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.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Me. He's talking about me.

“Maven,” he murmurs, sweet like honey. I wish he’d find a way to whisper my name like that every second of every day.

“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.

“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?”

“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.”

“It would be worth it. You’ve filled all the quiet and lonely parts of my life, Maven.”

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.”

“Because they’re love stories with all these grand gestures and sweeping declarations.

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.”

“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 the one in control, but think about when she asks to be fucked with it. Who gives a shit about power?”

“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 ...

“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, ...

“Maybe you should use it right now,” Dallas says. “And I could watch.”

“What about your rules?”

“I’m not allowed to touch you, but you can touch yourself. That’s no...

“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.

“Don’t you want to shower?” “I’ll shower after. Want to watch you come first.” God, what I would give to hear that whispered in my ear.

“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.”

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.” It’s my turn to groan. I imagine being on my knees in front of him, my mouth open and his come all over my body. His fingers running down my throat and across my chest. “I’d let you do that, Dallas. I’d let you do anything to me.”

“All of me,” I say. “It’s all yours.”

“Look at you. You’re fucking drenched for me,” he says like a prayer.

“You sure this is for you, hot shot?”