Page 65 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

When his mind came back online and was able to continue giving commands to his body, he drove home.

Now, three hours later…he knew everything.

Actually, no he didn’t. He didn’t know the reasons for the lies, the secrecy, or what Furi told himself to make him think it was all right to do this without talking to him first, but he knew enough.

Illustra’s homepage glowed—like a beacon of betrayal—on the laptop screen in front of him.

He paid for the platinum membership with a level of calm that scared the shit out of him.

He’d entered his information, clicked through the age verification, and selected the upgraded package, for the privilege of watching what probably thousands of people had already seen…and enjoyed

The page opened like a shrine.

It wasn’t some generic, cluttered page with flashing buttons and bad fonts. Illustra had gone all-out and dressed the site as if it specialized in lavishness and elegance.

The black background, gold lettering, slow-moving banners, elegant thumbnails arranged like gallery portraits instead of adult clips, whispered class and exclusivity.

There were velvet-red accents, diamond-sharp graphics, and a massive scrolling banner across the top that moved in a shimmering loop.

HE’S BACK.

Beneath it, in all caps and sexy script, was the title.

FURIOUS STYLES: THE SILK ENCORE

Syn stared at it until his vision tunneled.

Beside it were badges declaring record-breaking views, subscriber counts, trending rankings, and a live counter that kept climbing in the corner like a monitor attached to Syn’s rage.

11.5 million views.

Million!

Syn choked, throat constricting.

Over eleven million people had watched the love of his life pleasure himself to climax. Gawked at him. Fantasized about him. Touched themselves to something Syn considered only his to enjoy.

His!

Something mean, hard, and possessive bared it’s teeth behind his sternum in a way he knew could be unsafe if he lost control of it.

Syn had known who Furious was when he’d fallen for him. Knew there were thousands of images and videos out there before there was a them, and he’d never punished Furi for that.

In fact he’d defended him for it. Furi’s past was never a stain he felt he needed washed off, because loving his man meant loving the road that had brought him to him, even the parts that had bite.

But this wasn’t before. This was now.

After the promises.

After Furi had told him he was done.

He hovered his finger over the play button.

For several minutes, he sat there breathing, staring at the thumbnail of Furi’s body draped in black silk and moonlight.

His face wasn’t visible, not fully, but Syn knew the line of those shoulders. The curve of his neck. The fall of that long hair.

Syn didn’t want to watch it…but he had to.