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Then came Cassandra. Followed by the periods of self-imposed celibacy other than triannual fuckfests in Vegas where he went through boxes of condoms faster than a goddamned pornstar. Then this summer where, well, if it seemed like his dick had given up the damn ghost, maybe that was better off for everybody.
His cock throbbed against the mattress.
Or not.
Because he was suddenly feeling very much alive.
Before he could think better of it, he dragged his laptop into his lap. A few clicks later and he was on the site.
Naked girls of every type, color, and persuasion papered the page. He scrolled down, heart hammering in his throat.
He shouldn’t be doing this. He really shouldn’t be fucking doing this.
Close the page. You weren’t supposed to see that piece of paper. This is an invasion of her priv—
His breath caught. Because there she was. Wearing the same little robe she’d had on earlier. But this time it hung loosely open, showing a mouthwatering amount of cleavage. Underneath her picture, it read:
CHRISSY. LIVE SHOWER SHOW.
Along with the inviting little button: Join Room.
“Fuck.” The curse word ground out through his teeth.
His mouse hovered over the Join button.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Close the goddamned laptop.
He clicked join instead.
“I’m going to hell,” he whispered.
But then there she was.
She was in her bathroom, hips swaying to a low, sexy R&B beat. She was back in the silk kimono. Thank God. Nicholas breathed out.
Okay, he still hadn’t done anything too bad yet. He could just shut the window. He’d seen this much skin in person earlier, so there was no real harm done. He moved the mouse to the little x in the corner of the screen.
But then two more screens popped up. Holy shit. She had three cameras in the room. Each captured a different angle. There was the original—it seemed to be a normal web cam. Then a ceiling cam that gave a fisheye view of the entire bathroom, from the corner of the shower outward. And another set up in the back of the shower. Right at chest level.
Sloane bent over, ass to the web cam while she turned on the shower and holy Jesus—she had the plumpest, juiciest ass. There was a little piece of nothing floss going up her crack, but the next second she bent over even further and slid the thong down her thighs.
Nicholas swallowed hard and his hand dropped away from the mouse.
She swung her luscious ass back and forth as she tested the water for warmth. Then she stood up straight again, the robe covering up the sweet globes of her ass and making Nicholas groan in frustration.
But the next second she had his cock twitching again when she ran her hands down her body. And then, aww fuuuuuuuuuuuck, she dropped the robe.
She was perfect.
Absolutely fuckin’ perfect.
He could only stare at her. Her lithe little frame. The sweet cleft of her pussy. Those perfect breasts. They were big for how small she was but Nicholas knew they’d be tiny in his hands. She bit her lip and rubbed her thumbs back and forth across her nipples, bringing them to hard little peaks. Perfect to latch his mouth onto.
They were so pink—a dark fuchsia. Had she played rough with them earlier today? Had clamps on them? Did a client ask her to or did she like playing that way?
“Fuck,” he hissed out, hand dropping to massage his cock through his boxers.
He was almost relieved when she let go of her tits and grabbed her brush from a drawer, slowly combing out her long, auburn hair. She swept her hair over her breasts as she ran the brush through it. She looked like a fucking mermaid.
Nicholas sat, entranced while she just brushed her hair, probably for a full minute, before she finally stood and returned to the shower.
She never once acknowledged any of the cameras. If Nicholas hadn’t seen the pay stubs earlier, he might have been half-convinced by the illusion that she was just a normal girl who was being videotaped without her knowledge.
She stepped into the shower and her hands were immediately back on her breasts. Jesus Christ. Maybe she did know a little something about leading guys around by their dicks after all.
Her breathing grew shorter as she traced her finger down her stomach. She was in perfect view of the ceiling and back shower camera.
Nicholas sat, completely mesmerized by her.
But then a little sign started flashing at the bottom of the screen. A countdown clock started at thirty. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight. Along with a notice that said:
1,000 Tokens to Continue Show
“Shit,” Nicholas swore, immediately reaching for his jeans on the floor. He tipped himself off balance as he did, though—and then fell off the damn bed.
Son of a bitch. He barely managed to keep the laptop from landing underneath him as his knees slammed into the hardwood floor.
