Page 51 of Hidden Desires

I almost laugh at that. “Not the first time, probably not the last.”

The curvy blonde curls into me, the blanket slipping from her shoulders. “I don’t care if they find out about us,” she says, voice small. “I just care that you don’t leave me.”

I hug her tight, her body trembling against mine. “Never,” I promise in a rough voice, and for the first time in a long time, I actually mean it.

A while later, after Eliza’s cried herself out, she goes to the bathroom to clean up. I hear the tap run, the medicine cabinet shut, the muffled sound of her cursing the waterproof mascara that apparently isn’t. When she comes back, her face is scrubbed clean and her hair’s up in a messy bun. She’s beautiful like this, even wan and pale, and my heart swoops mightily. I want to protect her. She’s mine, and even her parents finding out about us doesn’t really matter anymore - to me, at least.

I heat up some vittles—leftover from the poker night, but edible—and we eat at the kitchen counter, hunched over our plates. She tells me about work, about how her boss tried to hit on her during lunch, about how she nearly cussed out an attorney for sending five “urgent” emails in a row. I’m glad she’s able to talk about something other than Gerald and Nancy, and listen with patience.

“Sometimes I wish I could just quit and run away,” she mutters, brandishing her fork. “Go off the grid. Start over somewhere where nobody knows me.”

I nod. “There’s a lot to be said for anonymity.”

She sets her spoon down, and I can see that she’s thinking carefully. “Jack, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

She looks up, eyes shining in the dim light. “Do you want me to stop doing the cam stuff? Is that something that would make you happy?”

I set my spoon down. “Eliza, I want you. Just you, and what you choose to do is up to you. I adore that you’re an independent young woman, and I’m not going to judge you for holding down this specific job. It’s work, just like any other job, and it’s not easy.”

She nods slowly.

“But would you prefer if I stopped?”

I pause for a moment, her words hanging in the air.

“I don’t know,” I admit in a low growl. “You belong to me, Eliza, and I’ll say that I don’t feel great about other men seeing your curves. I don’t love that other men get to ogle your big breasts and watch you come online, beautiful and gasping. But again, you’re a thing of beauty, and after the ugliness I’ve seen in combat, the world needs more beauty. Who am I to keep you to myself?”

She pauses for a moment.

“I’ve never thought of it that way,” she says in a soft voice.

I nod.

“War changes a man, sweetheart. I’ve seen ugliness, and witnessed the worst sides of humanity. Meanwhile, you’re bringing beauty and pleasure to others, so who am I to judge you? I won’t condemn any woman for camming online.”

Eliza nods, biting her lip. Then she looks up at me swiftly.

“Have you ever thought about camming yourself, Jack?”

I’m so surprised that I blink, unable to answer for a moment.

“No. Definitely not. Who would pay to see a forty-five year old dude with battle scars?”

Eliza shrugs.

“I think a lot of gay men would love to see you, Jack. You’re a very handsome man.”

My mental door slams closed.

“Absolutely not. I’m not a gay man, and definitely no gay men will be ogling me.”

My girlfriend giggles, her laughter the first bit of lightness for a while.

“Okay, no gay scenes then. But would you consider camming with a female partner? Me, I mean?”

I stare at her, mouth agog.