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CHAPTER1
Io
Look at her.
She’s gorgeous, rolling her hips and tugging on her nipples. I lean forward, hoping to get a clearer view of my laptop screen. Her hand slides down her stomach, and then her fingers are dipping below the waistband of her panties. They’re silk or satin today, a deep red color that shows a small wet spot where her fingers are now playing.
My girl gets so wet for an audience. The denim of my jeans rubs tightly against my clit, making it throb as she sighs and moans. I’ve been watching her for months now, looking for some kind of sign as to whether or not this is the girl I’ve been hired to find.
I’ll admit, I’ve gotten a little sidetracked. But I’m almost certain it’s her. The IP address pings in the location her father told me she might be living. And when she throws her head back in ecstasy, ribbons of blue hair fall over her shoulders. It has to be her. She never shows her damn face on this website, and she has no piercings or tattoos. There are no scars or blemishes.
Her body is a goddamn work of art.
Her father has been sending me emails and calling me nonstop. I’ve had to dodge him left and right as I hold off on flying my ass all the way across the country. One, because I don’t want to waste my time if this isn’t really her. And two, because I like this delayed gratification. I like this game we’re playing, where I watch every single video, scour every single picture, and agonize over every single live she does, all while wishing it were my hands caressing her curves.
If this is her, I’m tempted to keep her, her father be damned. The money he’s paying me is of little consequence when I have tens of millions in the bank. And if he proves to be a further problem, I have ways of taking care of that.
“I’ve been thinking…” Her sweet voice comes across my speakers, jarring me out of my thoughts. She changes the pitch of her voice just slightly. Just enough that most people wouldn’t be able to recognize her by her voice if they were to stumble across her in public.
“I’d like to add a new service to my menu.” I can hear the grin in her tone. “Well, two, actually. I’ve been doing this for a few months now, and I’ve had some requests for one-on-one time. How does that sound?”
I can feel my heartbeat between my legs.
“I’m thinking time slots for messaging me directly? And maybe some of you would like to pay more to get personalized videos.”
I click on the chat button that I hide every time I watch her and sift through the disgusting comments. This is why I minimize it. I cannot stand to see men and women embarrass themselves. They can’t possibly know she’s mine, but she is. Their stupid little comments mean nothing to me, and they won’t catch her attention like I will. Because none of these people have the smarts or the financial backing to keep her afloat.
I do.
Her tits get pressed up close to the camera as her biceps push them together. They nearly fall out of the tiny little bralette she’s wearing. They’re the perfect handful, and the pale pink nipples underneath the soft fabric are just as nice. I wonder what she tastes like, what her noises will sound like when it’s me giving her the orgasms.
Will she like what I like? Will she like it if I tie her up and edge her into oblivion?
She finishes her goodbyes, giving us all one last look at her tight body before the live session ends, and a window pops up. “URBaby2000 has ended the live.” Christ, I really wish she hadn’t used her damn birth year in her username. Clicking out of the live window, I pull up direct messages. I’ve never used these before, not having needed to reach out before now. Even now, I shouldn’t be doing it. This isn’t the easiest or quickest way to figure her out.
I should get on my damn plane, fly to Boston, and stake out her place. I’d have her secured within a couple of days. But that would mean everything is over too soon. And I don’t want that. I want to draw it out, get to know her, make her trust me. I want to accidentally run into her in public, tease her, make her think I may know who she is. I want her on her toes.
I want her scared.
“Very interested in the new services you’re thinking of offering. Name your price, doll face.”
Is it too forward? I stare at the message for a while, not sure if this is really the way I want to do things. It would be so easy to find a pilot and take my jet out to the East Coast. I could be with her by morning, sipping a coffee on the much cooler streets of Boston while I wait to see her face.
But no. I want a little while longer with her. I want to get to know her so that I can trap her. A fly caught in my dark web. Before I press Send, an email notification pops up. It’s from her father, asking me for an update, I’m sure. He’s so eager to find his little girl, and most people would think that’s normal.
What father wouldn’t want to locate his missing daughter?
There’s just something about him that rubs me the wrong way. If it’s even possible…he’s too eager. He’s almost obsessed with it. And everything has to be kept a secret. He pays me in cash and prefers to meet in shady bars on the wrong side of downtown. During the day, he’s a regular-looking businessman, wearing suits that are a little too big and ties that are just a bit too long.
At night, it’s like he transforms. His eyes are red, and the bags beneath are dark. He speaks in hushed tones and looks around like we might have been followed. We never have been. I’m smarter than that, and I make sure I have people with me to ensure that doesn’t happen.
I ignore the email and press Send on my message to who I think must be his daughter. “Delivered 8:28PM.” I stare at the screen and tap on the top of my desk. My body is still electrified from the show. My nipples are hard, and I’ve soaked my underwear.
There’ve been many times I’ve been tempted to touch myself while I watch her. I’ve had more of a reaction from her than I have anyone in years. Sure, I’ve been with plenty of people, but they’re all flings. In my line of work, I can’t settle down. Working with dangerous people means you have to sacrifice certain things in your life. Like having a partner.
So I sleep around and get what my body needs, but I never stick around until the morning. It’s out of the question. No sleepovers. They’re hot. We fuck. I go home.
But little URBaby2000 has me questioning all of that.
