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Until the leak.
She’d panicked the entire time it took Nicholas to drive over, sure the roof was going to fall in on her any second.
She was so scared she almost went outside—that’s how freaked she was. She’d been such an idiot to ignore it for this long. Her house was her sanctuary. Her shield against the world. What would she do if something happened to it?
But Nicholas was her knight in shining armor. He came over right away and checked upstairs. Apparently the carpet was completely ruined in one room and part of the drywall needed to be torn out. It was the first time it had rained for a while, though, and he felt confident if they pulled it all out and fixed the roof, the house would be fine.
But all that cost money. Even with Nicholas offering to put in the labor for free. He’d reroofed his mom’s house and helped out a friend another time, he said, so he had the experience.
Sloane was going to pay him though. Their friendship, or whatever it was, was starting to feel way too uneven for her liking.
The roof would cost three-thousand and the upstairs clean-up another one and a half, and that was just for materials. She wanted to pay Nicholas at least two thousand for his labor—still a massive saving from hiring a company to do it.
And with the money she’d had in savings all gone, it meant she’d need to work her ass off the next few months to cover it all.
She was a businesswoman first and she’d dealt with plenty of guys trying to push for personal information—or even like Oliver who’d claimed to be so in love with her, demanding to meet in person. After her telling him no enough times, he must have moved on to a new girl to obsess about because he’d stopped booking sessions with her.
Now there was Saint, though. And his money was simply too good to turn down at a time when she was desperate for it. So when he made requests she usually would have shut down right away, she found herself considering them:
I want to see the parts that aren’t usually on camera. Show me.
The parts not usually on camera? That must mean Saint subscribed to her voyeur feed.
She smiled at the camera lens. “If you watch me, then you’ve seen my house. But I’m happy to give you a personal tour.”
I want to see the entire house. Not just your bedroom and kitchen. Do it and I’ll give you a reward.
That had her arching an eyebrow. “What kind of reward?” She trailed a hand down her neck to her cleavage. She was always cognizant of what visual she was giving the camera. She tried to never let it just be a static feed. Her clients could look at porn if they wanted static.
Another 10,000 tokens. First take off all your clothes. Ass to camera 3.
She paused for a moment, staring at the camera. “Have we played together before?” It was the only way he could know such specifics.
Yes.
“Who are you?”
Ass to camera 3. Stretch wide for me.
Well, she couldn’t say he wasn’t direct. She got naked and did as he said, bending over and stretching herself right in front of the camera he’d specified.
Another ping sounded and she looked at the message.
Switch to your phone and GoPro so we can talk while you give me the tour. Here is my phone number.
He listed off a phone number. She didn’t recognize the area code but she’d definitely look it up after the call.
She grabbed her phone and messaged the number. HI SEXY. WHAT NOW?
She used a burner phone for this sort of thing—there was no way for the user to trace her phone to her location.
Take me on the tour.
She stood up and went to detach the camera from the tripod at the end of the bed.
“Okay, well, this is my bedroom. Which you already know, obviously. Over here is my closet full of toys.”
She took him to the closet and switched the light on. Not only were there toys of all shapes and sizes lined up on several shelves she’d installed, but there were also hanging costumes. Sexy maid. Sexy stewardess. Sexy nurse.
Basically, she waited until after Halloween each year and then bought tons of new outfits on clearance.
“I call this my fantasy closet.” She slowly panned the camera around the small walk-in. She thumbed through the clothing. “Would you like me to put one of these on?”
Put on blue jeans and a t-shirt. No underwear. No bra.
Hmm. So he wanted her to look like the girl next door. Then again, that made sense if he was into voyeurism. “All right. For that we’ll need to visit my dresser drawers.”
Show me.
She headed out of the walk-in closet and over to the dresser she kept in the corner of the room.
