The urge to go by Alba’s house after I left the club damn near overwhelmed me. When I drove past Mount Zion Lane, I almost turned. But I reined it in. I’d only just met her, right? Even if I’d thought about her all day, that didn’t mean she had to know.
When I got home, Selene sat on the couch with a blanket around her shoulders, a book open on her lap.
“Hey,” she said. “You’re home early.”
“Yeah. Wanna get to the shop early.”
“For what?” She scrunched her nose and looked up.
I cleared my throat and rubbed at the back of my head, ignoring her question in favor of my own. “Hey, can I ask you something? Stays between us?”
“Duh,” she said.
“Would you ever do porn?”
“Uh…” She narrowed her eyes, seemingly confused for a moment before muttering, “Like an OnlyFans, or a gang bang orgy?”
“OnlyFans.”
“No?” It was an answer, but it sounded like a question, like she was unsure but sticking to it. “Why? Would you?”
I sighed and tried to stay cool, shrugging it off like it was nothing. “No.”
She laughed and picked her book up. “Whatever, Jer. Just remember, the internet is forever.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I turned and headed down the stairwell leading to my room, slumping onto my double-sized mattress. I didn’t have a bed frame or much other furniture. Just a dresser and a TV on a nightstand, but I didn’t need much. Up until now, I hadn’t noticed the things it didn’t have. Like that big comfortable bed in Alba’s basement or the fluffy carpet and bright lights. In comparison, my man cave was barren. Lifeless. Cold.
Was that who I was?
Had I become barren and lifeless and cold?
I didn’t think so, but the fucking truth of it was, I hadn’t warmed up to anyone in a long time. Yes, I was friendly, but I could count the number of people I considered friends on one hand.
Laying back in my bed, I ran my fingers through my hair and stared up at my ceiling, pretending like the temptation wasn’t there.
It would be wrong to grab my laptop and open it to her page, right? Now that I knew who she was. Now that I’d spent a night by her side. It wasn’t like I was a porn addict or some shit. I didn’t have any favorite porn stars.
I’d noticed the tattoo on her wrist the first time I saw her online. Curious and interested in her vibe, I went to her page. I only remembered her because her profile said she was from Virginia, and I wondered if I knew her or what she might look like under the mask. I spent a few moments memorizing her eyes, and then I moved on with my whack session because I had shit to do and wanted to get off.
I never thought I’d meet her. And if I did, I never thought I’d recognize her, not without having seen her behind the mask.
I inched my fingers closer to my laptop on the mattress next to me.
Just for a few minutes…
I shouldn’t. It was fucked up, especially because there was a good chance I’d be at her place tomorrow, telling her I wanted to do the shit with her.
But… what if it’s research?
If I was going to help her, I needed to know what she was already doing. What worked. What didn’t. My pinky brushed against the cool metal, and I lost my reserve. I sat up and opened it, typing in her name before I could stop myself. Her website loaded, the picture of her at the top even more stunning now that I knew how amazing she was as a person.
I lit a cigarette and repositioned myself so I leaned against the wall, my legs outstretched on the mattress in front of me.
Where to start? Where to start?
I filtered by her top-rated videos, clicking on the one with the most views and thumbs-ups. It started with her undressing, running her hands over herself while she said dirty things about what the viewer might want to do to her.
“I’ve been such a naughty girl.” She pouted and blinked those big blue eyes at the camera.
I took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of my nose, ignoring the stab of lust that hit me in the balls. My cock jerked.
Be objective. Be professional.
How can I help her? What makes this video great? What makes the others suck? Focus.
She moved her hands down to her nipples and stomach, rubbing and playing. And then the camera switched angles, cutting to a different view of her touching herself.
God, she was so fucking hot. I tapped ash into the tray and adjusted my cock, now rock fucking hard in my jeans.
This was wrong and fucked up, but heaven help me, I couldn’t look away. She sucked me in. I ran my gaze along the curve of her waist, where I could nestle my big fucking hands and hold her down while I fucked the ever-loving life out of her.
I palmed my cock again, sucking back on the cigarette before stabbing it out. She orgasmed in breathless whimpers and full-body spasms, and if she was faking it, she deserved a fucking Oscar. I clicked on the next one and the next one, watching the top ten before I came to a conclusion.
The reasons these were her best had to do with the multiple camera angles and the fact she actually climaxed. The others were from one angle, and though she pretended to come, her heart wasn’t in it. If I could tell, everyone else could, too.
I went back to that first video, watching it again and focusing on everything about her—the parted lips, arch in her back, and euphoria in her eyes. Her soft skin, long legs, and pink velvet tongue darting out to lick her mouth.
I couldn’t stop it even if I wanted to. I had my cock in my hand and memories of last night flickering through my mind in seconds. How great she’d smelled, like cinnamon and sugar, and how perfectly she fit under me, soft and inviting. She made me laugh, and she surprised me. I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anything.
I thought about what I should have done when I rolled on top of her and tickled her, slotting myself right up against her pretty little cunt.
That cunt right there.
The one that glistened and puffed when she was wet.
I could have slipped inside her. I could have held her hands above her head and pressed my forehead to hers and pounded her into that mattress. I bet she felt like heaven-wrapped silk. I bet she flooded when she came.
My climax shot through me, and I managed to cover myself in time to keep it from getting all over the place.
Fuck. Me.
I lay there, panting and staring at the ceiling, the sounds of Alba’s moans in the background.
What if she finds someone else?
The thought came to me out of nowhere.
What if you log on next week and see her with Hollywood?
That motherfucker wouldn’t have even blinked. If he’d been there last night? If he’d been the one to see her, strike up a conversation, and drive her home? He would have already shot the video and had it up online. Hell, he would have already had a porn name, a website, and five places to film.
A hot jab sliced through me, furious and fiery, steeling my jaw and making me ball my hands into fists.
I’d fucking kill him.
I’d fucking kill any man who touches her.
And once I knew that, I had my answer.
Ah, shit.
I wouldn’t be able to stay away. Not now.