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Say I'm the One (All of Me Duet #1)(11)

Author:Siobhan Davis

“Come on, bro,” Zeke coaxes. “You know we’re gonna find out eventually.”

“I don’t know,” Reeve protests, sliding his arm around my shoulders. I scoot in closer on the rattan couch, snuggling into his side. “And even if I did, I couldn’t say anything. I had to sign a watertight NDA, so these lips are sealed.”

“But you get to fuck her, right?” Nate asks, his eyes glimmering with mischief.

“You’re an idiot.” I shake my head. “He’s playing a part, and most sex scenes on movie sets are very clinical. Trust me, there is little that is sexy about it.” At least, that’s what my parents have always said. It’s not like I’ve had a front-row seat or anything.

“Rawr.” Nate curls his fingers at me. “Look at your claws coming out.”

I flip him the bird. “I’m confident in my relationship and my mad sexual skills. Just ask Reeve. I practically rode him to death last night.”

Reeve spits beer all over the tile floor. “Babe. Tell the whole fucking world, why don’tcha?”

I shrug, feeling brave thanks to Mr. Grey Goose flowing through my veins. “I’m not ashamed, and maybe he’ll shut up about you fucking your leading lady now.”

Truth is, I’m not loving the idea of Reeve performing some of these scenes with another woman. But it’s par for the course when you’re an actor, and I’ll just have to get used to it. The last thing I want is any of my insecurities to impact Reeve’s performance. This part is a big deal for him. This role could catapult him onto the world stage, and having a successful acting career is something he has craved for as long as I’ve known him. I won’t do anything to jeopardize his potential or do anything to add to his stress levels, so I’m trying to pull my big-girl panties on and accept it’s just part of his job.

I stride across Reeve’s father’s study in my tight-fitting black dress and stiletto heels, growling as I put my face up in his, fixing him with an angry look. “I’ve had enough of you for one day,” I snap, glaring at him. “Get lost, Cam.”

“I thought you were made of stronger stuff,” he coolly replies.

I glare at him some more, forcing my body to shake with rage.

Reeve pulls the hood of his hoodie down off his head, stepping into me. His chest brushes against mine, and his eyes glimmer with challenge. My body floods with warmth, and I’m struggling to project the anger Abby demonstrates in this scene. Reeve is so fucking hot wearing Camden’s skin, and I’m already salivating.

“Viv.” Reeve eyeballs me, and I try to shake all lustful thoughts from my mind.

“Sorry. I’ll focus.” Planting my game face on, I take a step back, per the script.

Reeve closes the gap between us immediately, running the tip of his finger across my exposed collarbone, eliciting a rake of fiery tingles that makes my toes curl. “The more you fight me, the more I enjoy this,” he whispers, pressing his mouth to my ear. “So, keep fighting me, sweetheart. Nothing turns me on more.”

Oh God. Nor me!

See, this is why I could never be an actress. I’d never be able to wear another character’s skin and ignore my own emotions and reactions. But I’m supposed to be helping Reeve, so I work harder to dampen my desire.

“Fuck you, Cam.” I shove him away, stalking to the couch and dropping down on it. In this scene, Abby gets into her car and Cam slides uninvited into the passenger seat. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I bark as Reeve sits on the couch beside me.

“Coming with you. Unless you already know the way to Lauder’s place?” He looks around, as if he’s admiring the car interior.

“No, and no. Get out.”

“Make me.” He slants me a sexy, lopsided grin that is supposed to infuriate me, but all it’s doing is turning me on more.

Fishing my pepper spray out of my purse, I uncap the lid and aim it at his face. He reacts fast, pinning me to the couch with his fingers curled around my hand, trying to pry the canister out of my grip while I pretend I’m trying to press down on the button.

We wrestle for several minutes—me trying to get it to explode in his face and him trying to get a hold of it—and it’s the hottest type of foreplay. I gasp when his hips press against mine and his hard length rubs against me.

Fuck me. Please.

He wraps his fingers around my wrist, and I yelp as if I’m in pain. Reeve throws the canister on the floor and straddles me. I bite back a moan as my hips lift of their own volition. I can barely remember the script, because I’m so freaking aroused my brain has turned to mush.

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