Page 32 of Learn Your Limits

Chapter thirty

Emiliano

A slight wind carries the scent of fresh pine, chilling my face pleasantly as I wash the last of the pans from the breakfast I’ve made for us this morning. I’m thankful for it. My blood feels molten, my body unable to hide the excitement from knowing just what Reid is doing right now.

When we woke up, his expression was one full of nerves and excitement as I let him know the plans for today. Cheeks instantly turning red, he agreed and picked up his notebook from the previous night, the lube, the attachment, and the silicone plug before hurrying into the shower.

As I set the table, I think about how Reid blossomed last night, voicing his desires and taking what he needed from my body.

I’ve truly never felt so connected to someone in intimacy.

The sincerity and vulnerability he bestows upon me leave me feeling complete in a way I’ve never experienced before.

He’s a piece I wasn’t aware I was missing.

“So, uh... all good here,” the missing piece states as he comes out of the bedroom.

“Please speak specifically, Reid,” I lecture over my shoulder, seeing him dressed in a casual outfit similar to mine.

I turn back to the table only for a moment to finish pouring orange juice for the both of us before I turn to face him fully.

“You’ll need to be comfortable speaking up.

I know I’m asking a lot of you today, and I need to know how you’re feeling. ”

Pulling out a chair, I gesture for him to walk to the table, partly so I can see how he walks with the plug, and because I’m a gentleman, of course.

As he approaches, I cannot help but admire the luminosity of his hair.

It will never cease to draw me in like a moth to a flame.

He’s striking in his outfit today, dark jeans and a hunter green henley.

He must be aware that darker shades of green complement him so beautifully and make his hair stand out even more.

“It feels a little weird but not in a bad way,” Reid comments, wincing a little as he sits, but it doesn’t seem like it’s from displeasure.

“Just more aware of the area?” I ask, brushing strands of auburn off his forehead before he nods in answer. Unable to resist the urge, I bend down and kiss his temple. “Thank you for doing this,” I speak softly, backing away to get a better look at him.

“I’ve always been curious about how wearing one would feel.” He shrugs as if it’s nonchalant to wear a plug while playing tourist in a small town. “And there’s something hot about knowing it’s there.”

“I very much agree.” I run my hand around his shoulder as I round the table, trailing my fingers in a less-than-innocent caress.

Taking my seat across from him, I gesture toward the food in an invitation to begin eating. It’s a simple omelet packed with vegetables and a side of fruit. It made sense to eat light with all the treats I’d inevitably be buying us later today.

What’s a little gluttony on vacation, after all?

Reid’s plush lips wrap around a churro con cajeta, and the imagery almost leaves me coughing into my hot coffee. At this point, is there anything this man could do that wouldn’t turn me on?

“Enjoying yourself?” I ask, hiding a small smile behind my cup as we walk closely side by side on the downtown strip of shops. The initial nervousness of being in public with Reid has been slowly fading away.

Our first stop was at an antojitos café after Reid had all but floated in the air when the scent of sugary confections hit us.

Logically, I know the chance of someone seeing us together, recognizing us in a small town hours away from OU, and knowing who we are to each other is near zero.

Still, I couldn’t help but feel like there would be a colleague of mine or a classmate of his, around the corner.

Now though, as I watch Reid thoroughly enjoy his treat and not one person pays us any mind, I only feel joy that we are together on this little outing.

“It’s so good,” he mumbles through a bite.

He reminds me of a puppy who’s just discovered steak.

I hold my coffee in my right hand, Reid standing to my left as our shoulders occasionally brush while we walk together in step. After a minute, his churro has been devoured, and we stand at one of the first shops I planned for us to visit.

“An art studio?” Reid asks, peeking inside the store while he wipes his sugary hands clean. I take the chance to walk to the entrance of the shop and open the door for him. I don’t have any particular interest in art—unless it’s his—but I knew this would be somewhere he would appreciate.

“And a supply store if there’s anything you’d like to get.” The implication that I will be buying him anything he’d like is one I hope he picks up on. Either way, he’ll understand, even if I have to race him to the cash register to do so.

My eyes may wander around the cozy shop, but they never truly leave Reid for more than a second. He inspects brushes and paints that I’ve never seen nor know the name of. The warm light of the shop glitters off his eyes as he struggles to balance the small basket that’s quickly become full.

“Let me,” I demand more than ask. My fingers are already wrapped around the basket’s handle before he can reply. “Go on and shop uninhibited. I’ll be nearby if you need to add to your stash.”

“Thank you.” Reid smiles softly, almost shyly, and it reminds me of how he first came across when we were merely two random people texting each other on a dating app. He’s grown so much since then. Now I know there’s a ferocity behind the sweet smile of his.

We spend another fifteen minutes in the art shop before Reid wraps up his spree, and we walk over to the cashier. The older woman greets us kindly and begins scanning items from the full basket as soon as I set it on the counter.

From the corner of my eye, I see Reid begin to grab for his wallet, but I stop him by placing my hand on his forearm.

“This is my gift to you.” In truth, not only do I have the urge to buy him anything he’d like, but there is triumph in knowing these supplies will be bought with my money, not from his family fund.

They don’t deserve to patronize his art when it’s not something they appreciate.

“You don’t have to do that,” he protests, hesitantly pulling his hand away from his pocket. “I wouldn’t have gone so crazy with grabbing things if I knew you were gonna cover it.”

“Precisely why I didn’t tell you ahead of time.

” My hands are already pulling free my credit card before the older woman even finishes scanning the items. Setting the blue card on the counter, I let her know she can run the card when she is done.

“I wanted to make sure you’d get the things you wanted without limiting yourself because of me,” I explain, crossing my arms and turning toward Reid.

My expression is one with no wiggle room, my brow furrowed and lips pursed. This is not a negotiation.

His eyes scan my face before glancing at the total displayed on the screen. “Are you sure? I can cover it, babe. You’ve already done so much for me.”

Instead of replying to Reid, I turn back toward our cashier and take note of her amusement at the situation.

Her name tag reads Martha, and her twitching lips seem to be holding back a smile.

“Martha dear, would you please run my card so I can buy my boyfriend these presents before he protests again?”

A small gasp escapes him as he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to contain his smile as a blush brightens his cheeks. I watch as Reid turns away and walks out of the store before I can finish paying.

“He’s shy,” I comment, turning back to Martha.

“He’s a handsome one,” she replies, letting her smile come through as she hands me my card. I tuck it into my wallet before I gather the bags in my hands.

“And taken, so don’t get any ideas, ma’am.” I wink in her direction before making my way out of the shop to see where Reid got to.

His hand is around my waist and pulling me toward him the moment I step outside, his lips crashing against mine. Startled for a moment, it takes me a second to realize I can’t reciprocate the embrace with all the bags in my hands, so I lean forward into his body and brush my lips against his.

Pulling away slowly, I look into Reid’s eyes, full of glee and hunger. “That’s quite the thank you,” I tease.

“You’re amazing,” he says softly, leaning down to capture my lips once more.

His hands tighten at my waist as he pulls me impossibly closer, seemingly forgetting for a moment that we’re in a public place in broad daylight.

He swipes his tongue over my lower lip before pulling back and sliding a hand down to mine, taking one of the bags from me.

“Muneco,” I whisper, leaning toward him, my voice loud enough for only us to hear as I tighten my hold on his hand.

Knowing he’s wearing the plug as we exchange this cute moment in this near idyllic tourist spot has my lips twitching into a smirk.

“Let’s move on so we can get home and you can thank me properly. ”

The rest of the trip into town was filled with unique little shops and a mom-and-pop diner that served delicious burgers.

While not the same as our shared meals of burgers and fries from our favorite fast food restaurant, there was a simple, homemade quality that made it comparable.

On the drive back to the cabin, I wondered how much of the familiarity came from the food versus who I was sharing it with.

As night begins to fall, my find from our shopping trip is open in my lap, my eyes bouncing from the words of the French first edition to Reid’s hands as he unpackages his new art supplies, testing each one on several different mediums scattered around the dining table.

It takes him a moment to get everything organized on the table before his focus falls to his sketchpad. His brows furrow as he focuses on his art, glancing up in my direction every few minutes for his eyes to drag over my body.