And how badly I want to rub my face all over his pecs.
And feel those thick biceps wrapped around me.
Jesus, maybe Gladys was right. I am horny as fuck.
“Ready?” he asks, nodding toward the door. Has he totally forgotten that we’re supposed to be selling it as a couple?
I can feel Gladys staring at me, so I widen my eyes at him, glancing toward Gladys as if to remind him we have an audience.
Instantly, his cold, detached demeanor morphs into a forced smile as he crosses the room. Without warning, he leans down and presses his lips to mine. It’s a quick peck, but it takes me by surprise. As he stands upright, he smiles at Gladys.
“Hi again.”
“Hi again,” Gladys replies with a playful smirk on her face.
“I’ll finish these later,” I tell her as I stand from my chair.
“Go. Have fun,” she says, waving us away.
“Mind if I send Roscoe down?” I ask.
“No, I’ll watch him,” she replies, shooting me a wink. For a moment, I feel terrible about lying to her, even if it is a small, harmless fib.
“Thanks, Gladys!”
Grabbing Adam by the arm, I tug him toward the door leading up to my apartment. He seems as tense as I’m feeling today, which is good, I guess. I don’t want to be the only nervous person in this scenario.
After we reach my apartment, I carry Roscoe down the stairs, hearing Gladys call for him before I set him down and shut him out in the stairwell.
Then it’s just me and Adam alone in my apartment with heavy doses of anticipation and awkwardness.
“Got anything to drink?” he asks.
I scurry toward the kitchen. “Is beer okay?”
“Yes,” he replies as I pull out two, one for each of us.
After a long drink, he looks determined and ready to work.
“So, how are we going to do this?”
“Okay, so I’ve been thinking,” I say, pulling out my phone.
“We can upload the clips on FanVids—you’ve heard of it, right?”
“That amateur porn app?”
“Yeah. We can start with short clips—fifteen to thirty seconds. Then we share them anonymously on socials and try to get subscribers. Then after it’s created some buzz, we post longer videos. Real videos. Well…real- ish.”
His brows are scrunched together as he stares down at my phone, the FanVids app open to show him how people can scroll the feed. Guessing by the confusion on his face, he’s not familiar with the app and doesn’t quite know how this is going to work, but that’s okay. I’ll handle the distribution; I just need him to be him and play the part.
“So people can see these short clips for free?”
“Basically. But we have to show your face. We need people to see that it’s you.”
As I scroll through the app, video after video popping up, my skin starts to grow hot. Maybe it’s the suggestive nature of the clips, or maybe it’s the realization that we’re about to post stuff like this too. Either way, I’m struggling to even hold still at this point.
“Let’s do it,” he says at last, and I bite my lip as I stare up at him.
Our eyes meet for a moment, and I get a whiff of his cologne again, my body growing excited at the prospect of getting to touch him again. The room fills with tension while neither of us moves.
Finally, I clear my throat and walk toward the couch. His eyes follow me before landing on the tripod I have set up already.
“Have you done this before?” he asks.
“No,” I reply. “Well, not like this. I just bought this because I thought it would make things easier.” Then I show him how I clip my phone onto the tripod and point it at the
couch. Suddenly, we have a hands-free device for shooting videos.
He swallows without moving toward me. He’s definitely nervous. “So, now what?”
There’s an audible silence as we each take a long drink of our beer, both of us clearly needing the liquid courage to go through with this. After letting out a heavy sigh, I roll my shoulders back.
If we’re going to do this, we should get it over with, right?
“So I’m thinking for the first clip, we can be on the couch, me straddling you.” I grab the tripod and place it in the center, facing the couch. “Here, sit.”
He hesitates.
Then, after a heavy sigh, he grabs the back of his T-shirt at the nape of his neck and whips it over his head in one fast swipe. I swear my mouth goes dry as I stare at his chest, lightly dusted with dark hair down to the ripples of his abs and the V-shape leading into his gray joggers.
Holy shit, I curse silently in my mind as I stare at him.
“Pants too?” he asks.
I force myself to swallow. “Maybe just…underwear for this shot,” I stammer. “They won’t be in the frame, but even if they are, I’ll be on top of you.” My voice cracks.
Why am I so nervous?
One by one, he slips off his shoes and pulls off his socks.
Then he drags his sweats down his legs, and I turn away. Why the hell must Adam Goode be such a perfect specimen of a man? Why can’t he just be as repulsive as his father?
“My turn,” I whisper to myself before I yank my Van Halen T-shirt over my head and slide my shorts off. Suddenly, we’re standing in our underwear, both of us trying to awkwardly cover ourselves as if we haven’t already screwed on this very couch. Why does this feel so much stranger now?
“All right, sit,” I say, pointing toward the sofa. Suppressing his nerves, he rounds the couch and drops down in the middle.
I quickly open the camera app on my phone and aim it at him, making sure to get him centered so his face doesn’t get cut off. I can crop more later.
With that, I climb onto his lap, one leg on each side of his hips. For a moment, my brain seems to short-circuit from this proximity. His face is just inches from mine and he’s definitely sporting a half-staff erection, pressing against my panties.
But I need to stay professional about this. Taking a deep breath, I try to center myself to focus.
Fuck, he smells so good.
“The camera can’t see my face if you’re in front,” he says.
Which is a good point—the camera is pointed at the back of my head. So, I grab the tripod and maneuver it to the side, catching us at an angle. I’m still slightly covering his face, but I lean my head back a little so he’s in plain view.
“You’re gonna lean back like that?” he asks with a wrinkle in his brow.
“Umm…no. That’s awkward. Here, grab my hair,” I say, picking up his hand and putting it against the back of my scalp. Immediately, he takes a handful and pulls, so my spine arches and my head hangs.
We both glance at the screen. It’s perfect. Adam is taking up most of the frame, my body only in one-third of the screen, just enough to be suggestive and honestly, hot as hell.
“Okay, so I’m going to press record and we’re going to move like we’re fucking. You keep pulling my hair, but make sure to make a sexy face.”
“A sexy face?” he asks with a laugh.
“Yeah. Don’t just be, like, dead-faced. You need to scowl at me.”
“Scowl at you?”
I let out an exasperated sigh, and he lets go of my hair.