31. Reid
THIRTY-ONE
REID
Sex has never been like this.
I know I’m buried inside her and trying not to lose my mind, but it’s never been like this . Careful and slow. A pressure in my chest when I thrust into her and she whispers my name.
Fuck.
Fuck .
What the fuck does that mean?
Any coherent thought I try to have flies out the window when she pushes her tits together. When she plays with her nipples and moves her hips like a goddamn goddess.
How does this still feel so fucking good ?
We’ve been fucking each other for weeks and it still hasn’t lost its appeal. I think I want her more now than I did the first and second time we were together, craving her like she’s the lifeline keeping me alive.
God, the things I want to do to her.
The things I want to try but can never find the time, because I’m too easily distracted. Lost in the world of her tight cunt and the way she clenches around my dick, like I’m her salvation too.
“ Jesus , Ave. A week and a half without me and you’re tight as hell. Have you been using your toy? Have you been fucking yourself to the thought of me?” I ask, my stream of consciousness growing shakier by the second.
“No.” She whines when I press on her clit. She cries out when I give it a light slap, and she trembles when I twist her nipples. “It doesn’t satisfy me anymore. Not after having you.” I grin down at her, smug and proud, and her eyes flutter open. She laughs when she sees the curve of my smile. “That went straight to your head, didn’t it?”
“Never going to forget it. Next time I’m over, I want to fuck you with your toy. I think I know all the ways you like to be taken care of, but that’ll help me make sure. I don’t want to forget anything.”
“That—” Avery groans. I’m so close to losing it, and every noise from her is fuel to the fire. Another piece of rationality shredded to nothingness. I’ve never had any problems lasting in the bedroom before, but with her, it feels like I only have goddamn seconds until I come. “Sounds like a dream.”
She’s the fucking dream, with her hair spread out on the pillows and her tits lifted up by her bra. I didn’t bother to take it off. I want to see the way they bounced when I fuck her nice and hard.
“What do you need?” I ask, and she meets me thrust for thrust. “What do you need to come?”
“Can we try on my side?” she pants. “I like how deep you get that way.”
I know it’s one of her favorite positions, and we readjust. I hike up her leg and drive into her while my fingers grip her knee. Marking her has become one of my favorite hobbies.
I like finding new places to touch her. New parts of her body I haven’t explored that I can claim as my own. The underside of her left ass cheek. Her right hip and her left shoulder in a spot she can hide with her hair.
Avery grabs my ass, letting me know she wants it faster. Harder, and we fall into the pace we know so well. I give her what she wants, the quick snap of my hips and a hand on her neck.
She likes that best, I’ve learned. I never thought I’d be the guy who wrapped his fingers around someone’s throat, but fuck , she looks pretty dressed up like this.
“I’m close,” she says, telling me what I already know.
Her eyes close, and when I slap her clit again, she jolts to life.
“Keep them open. Want to watch you,” I say, and her cheeks color with a deep red blush.
There’s another minute where she tries to hold on. Tries to prolong the inevitable and enjoy the ride a little while longer, but I’m done waiting.
I want to feel her on me, and I want to feel her now.
“Reid,” she whispers. She squirms on the sheets, a long moan following my name when I touch her nipples. “I’m?—”
“That’s it, Avery. You can do it,” I say, and she topples over the edge.
She twists in my hold, trying to find the best spot for relief, but I keep her pinned to the bed. I work her through the high, only stopping when her eyes glaze over and she rests a hand on my chest.
“Fill me up,” she whispers, and fucking fuck , I love how direct she is. How she doesn’t leave any room for error because she tells you exactly what she wants. “I want you dripping down my leg.”
I’m a simple man, and that makes me lose control.
My release hits me, and I groan. My muscles spasm and I see spots in my vision as I spill inside her.
I don’t know how long it takes me to calm down, just that I fall onto the mattress and take a deep breath.
“Fuck,” I draw out, opening an eye. “You killed me.”
“I’ll send flowers to your grave.” She stretches out her legs and lifts her arms over her head. “Look at the mess we’ve made.”
“ I made.” I reach over and tap her knee. “Open up. Let me see.”
This is my favorite part. Avery opens her thighs, and I groan again. I graze over her pussy and the thick liquid sticks to my fingers.
Ruin me, Reid.
I’d like to do that again.
“Do you like what you see?” she whispers, and I bob my head.
I fucking love what I see.
It’s the most possessive I’ve ever felt, and a word echoes in my head.
Mine .
For the first time since we started this thing between us, I wonder what it would be like if she were mine for real.
Would we have the same chemistry?
The same tension?
Would we say the same things to each other, or would it get boring after fifty, one hundred, a thousand times?
I don’t think anything with Avery could be boring.
“Can I clean you up?” I ask, because I have the urge to take care of her. To make her as good as new.
“I was thinking we could go somewhere like this. Still messy.” Avery nudges my hand away and replaces it with her own. “No one would know.”
“Next time,” I rasp, finding my voice. “Let’s take a shower first.”
When we climb into her bed an hour later, I pull her flush against me. Her back rests against my chest and her hands find mine. I sigh, content.
We’ve had a couple sleepovers. There have been a few times after we’ve finished where it’s too late for her to catch the Metro or an Uber, but it’s early tonight. It’s barely nine, and I’m not sure if she wants me to stick around.
“I’m tired,” she yawns, drawing her knees to her stomach. “It just hit me.”
“Go to sleep if you want.” I kiss the top of her head. “You don’t have to keep me entertained.”
“Will you stay? At least for a little while?”
“I’ll stay as long as you want.” I yawn too and bury my face in her hair. I inhale the scent of her shampoo and smile. “Did you have a good day?”
“Not bad,” she says. “The deeper we get into the season, the busier it is at the office. I can’t believe we’ve won three games in a row. I’m posting four times a day on Instagram and three times a day on TikTok, and it still doesn’t feel like enough.”
“Yeah, but it’s way more fun when you’re posting about victories, isn’t it?” I ask.
“Oh, definitely. If we could keep this streak going when we play you all next, I’d be on top of the world.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, Sinclair. The Titans do their best work later in the season, and the boys are just getting started.”
“Could you let me have one thing?” Avery teases. She pokes my side, and I grab her wrist. “Just this once?”
“Nah.” I close my eyes. “This is way more fun.”
We’re both quiet, and I realize how nice the moment feels.
Normally we only hang out for a few minutes before we’re grabbing our clothes and getting dressed. There’s never any lingering, never any cuddling. Not like this.
I wonder what else I can get out of her. Showing me her apartment is a big step, and I want to know more. I want to ask the question I’ve been wondering since I met her at the bar all those weeks ago.
“Are you asleep?” she asks.
“Close, but not all the way there yet. What about you?”
“I’m awake. You sound like you’re stirring up there.”
“The wheels in my head never stop.” I rub my hand down her arm. “Can I ask you a question?”
“No, you cannot hack into my computer and steal the content I have planned for the next month,” Avery says.
“Maybe I’ve already done that.”
“If you had, I would’ve gotten a text message about the folder I keep all my plans in.”
“Well, now I’m intrigued. What’s the name of the folder?”
“‘If you’re Reid Duncan, do NOT click here or the computer will explode.’”
I laugh. “Original. I like it. You get points for creativity, that’s for sure.”
“Thanks,” she says, and I feel her smiling against my chest. “What’s your question?”
“Will you tell me about your dad? That night at the bar you told me you liked talking about him.”
Avery spins in my hold so we’re looking at each other. “What do you want to know?”
“What was he like?”
Her smile is beautiful, pulled from a memory. “He was the best man in the entire world. He was patient. A good listener. He loved my mom so deeply, and he loved me and my sister too. I’m talking daddy-daughter dances. Learning my recital numbers and practicing with me. Taking me to basketball games down in Orlando—that was our thing. It’s how I fell in love with sports.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. We’d go to games together all the time. We sat five rows up from the court, the first two seats off the stairs. I don’t know how he stumbled into the seats, but he did, and thus began my love affair with sports. I have this dream that one day the Orlando Blazers will win a championship, and he’ll be there in spirit when I celebrate.”
“Did he ever get to see you in action on the sidelines? You said you worked down in Florida before coming to Baltimore, right?” I ask.
“Yeah. I was with a UFL team in a similar role. It didn’t have the scope or scale the Thunderhawks position does, though.”
“Is that where you met your ex, Peter?”
“Someone is nosy tonight.” Avery laughs and rests her chin on my shoulder. “Why so inquisitive, Duncan?”
“Dunno.” I shrug. “I know your orgasms like the back of my hand. Figured I should learn a little more about your personal life too.”
“If you insist. Peter was the Vice President of Client Services for the UFL team, and we started spending a lot of time together as we brainstormed ways to get fans in the door. Spending time together turned into dating, and I thought we were happy. While I was in my role, our team’s follower count quadrupled. I hate using the word successful , because it’s so trivial and subjective, but I was. That’s when Peter started to get frustrated. He was jealous my hard work was paying off, and he started trash-talking me to other people in the organization.”
“I bet he loved that you got to give the keynote speech in Vegas,” I draw out. “Fucking prick.”
Avery shrugs. “I don’t care what he thinks anymore.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“Reid.” She kisses my cheek, and I look down at her. “Are you jealous?”
“ No ,” I say quickly, but it almost feels like a lie. “Okay, maybe I am, but it’s because you’re this incredible woman, Ave. Not everyone deserves to experience that incredibleness. Attention, wrong people. Remember?”
She’s quiet for a minute, and I wonder if I said the wrong thing.
I worry I overstepped a boundary, but then she sighs, and I wait to hear what she has to say.
“Remember how I told you the story about him was a tenth or twelfth date kind of conversation?” she asks, and I nod. “I feel like we’re at that point, don’t you?”
I swallow.
I wouldn’t consider fucking her six ways to Sunday a date , but the amount of time we’ve spent together goes well past twelve dates. It’s probably pushing more like fifteen, twenty, and it hits me how close we’ve gotten.
The parts of ourselves we’ve shared and the way we can talk without judgment. Me, about my dad. Her, about her past significant others and where she thinks she’s struggling in the workplace. There’s trust there, and I realize I’m scared to hear what she has to say, because I think I’m going to care a little too much.
More than I should.
More than I’m allowed.
“I shared a few details in Vegas, but I want you to know the whole story. Peter was always strategic. He never hit me. All his abuse was verbal. A backhanded compliment here, an insult there. A disgust for the things I did. One day, we got in an argument. I had a hard time setting personal and professional boundaries back then, so when I say I was constantly on my phone, I mean I was constantly on my phone. He came home, saw me doing something on Instagram or TikTok, and he said some terrible things.”
I don’t know if I want to hear the rest. I already feel sick. I’m already clutching her tighter, as if I’m able to change the past and protect her, but it’s a part of Avery’s story.
I need to hear it.
“What kind of things?” I ask.
“He called me a whore. He said I was sleeping with the team. That no woman would actually want to work in the sports industry unless they wanted to get fucked by a bunch of football players,” she admits, a tremble in her voice. “That’s the real reason I didn’t tell you about my job the night at the bar. I didn’t know you, and I was afraid you’d say the exact same thing. And, after only spending a few minutes with you, I knew I’d be really disappointed if the nice guy I liked talking to felt the same way as the person who made me move away from home.”
“Oh, sweetheart.”
The endearment slips out, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She draws a shape on my bare chest, her fingers running through the hair before settling over my heart.
“I haven’t dated anyone since Peter. Casual hookups have been easier to manage than the messy side effects of diving into something serious.”
“How do you feel about something serious now?” I stupidly ask.
Avery props up on an elbow. Her hair hides her face, and I shift so I can look at her.
“It doesn’t seem nearly as scary as it did before,” she admits. “Meeting you has reminded me of how much good is left in the world. How much love there is to give and receive. Look at you and your friends. Look at me and Maven, and now Emmy, too. I’m happier than I was back then, and that’s a wonderful thing.”
Love .
What a silly fucking word.
Could I love Avery?
One day down the road, could I fall for her?
I love fucking her.
I love hearing what witty one-liners she’s going to toss my way.
But could I love her?
“Thank you for telling me,” I say. She tilts her chin and kisses me, a soft press of her lips that has me wanting more. “For trusting me enough to share.”
“I’ve never trusted anyone like I trust you, Reid.”
I know that’s a fucking important step, but suddenly, talking is the last thing I want to do.
I roll on top of her and her lips quirk up into a smile.
I wrap my hand around my cock, stroking myself, already hard and needing to have her again. Needing to show her all the good thing she should have. She nods, and this time when I fuck her, it’s different.
There’s a promise behind the thrust of my hips, as if I’m telling her, You deserve better .
She answers me enthusiastically, and for the first time since we’ve been together, I let my emotions sneak through. I treat her like I would if I belonged to her.
I kiss her the way I would kiss her every morning if I woke up next to her, and when she kisses me back, I think she might be doing the same thing.