Do Not Disturb

“God, you are beautiful.” His voice is gruff, heavy with need. I love his voice. It brings to mind a face I will never see, a touch I will never feel.

 

I smile, my eyes closed, and imagine his mouth on me, replacing the toy, making an unhurried path across my sex. “I want you to fuck me so bad,” I whisper, the statement eliciting a thick groan from him.

 

“Tell me. Tell me what you’d do to me.”

 

“I’d get myself ready on your bed. Touch myself while I listen to you work. Imagine your hands on my skin, your mouth in between my legs.” I arch my back, needing more stimulation, and turn the vibrator up, moaning softly when it bumps hard against my clit.

 

“Come here. I want you to crawl to me on your knees.”

 

I don’t move. “Not just yet, I want you hard and ready before I take you into my mouth.”

 

He swears. “God, you are a tease. There isn’t a thing on this planet harder than my cock right now.”

 

“I’m picturing it right now.” I move the toy lower, and slip the tip of it into my sex, the intrusion perfect. I open my eyes, hearing the movement of the cam, and watch on-screen as he zooms in, focusing on my lips around the toy. “I want to feel every ridge on your cock as you tease me with it. I want you to slide the tip of it in and out of my cunt and feel how hot and tight I am for you.”

 

A low, guttural sound comes from him, and I arch my back, pushing further, my body greedy for more, the view of my sex pulsing around the hot-pink plastic erotic, even to me. Even to my eyes that have seen this view thousands of times.

 

“Please,” he whispers, his voice tight. “Deeper.”

 

I push it fully in, and the sounds of his orgasm rip through the speakers.

 

Some men are quiet when they come. There is a sudden pause, no sound at all. No soft breaths, no gentle moan. Their entire body clenches in a death grip of silence. Other men are vocal, moaning, speaking, gasping loudly as they expel their pleasure all over the keyboard. I had a shrieker once. A high-pitched shriek that blew out one of my speakers and made me fight back a smile. Mike is a groaner. He groans my name in a deep, guttural voice that runs a possessive touch down my back. His orgasms are long, enjoyable, and I feel a shot of arousal zip through me as he finishes. I squeeze my core around the toy, waiting, hoping that I might follow suit, my orgasm triggered by his. But the arousal fades, my attempts at catching it futile. I slide the toy slowly out, the camera zooming in on the action, his interest still piqued, and I hear him sigh as the length of it is exposed. “Fuck,” he sighs. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you just avoided sucking my dick.”

 

“You complaining?” I move the mouse, turn off his access to my computer, and switch the video feeds, choosing the cam that shows my face. I grin, and hear him chuckle in response.

 

“Not at all. You always take care of me.”

 

“As do you,” I shoot back, my eyes studying the timer for our chat. Seventeen minutes thirty-eight seconds. “Talk to you soon?”

 

“You know it, babe.”

 

He clicks off and the “ENDED CHAT” message fills the screen. Eighteen minutes. A hundred and twenty-five bucks. Though for Mike, I’d have done it for free.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 50

 

 

THE MAN BEFORE Nick stands like a roadblock, framed by the arched doorway. A bright red roadblock, the man’s flushed skin almost matching his hair in intensity. “It’s late, Nick.”

 

He glances at his watch. “Mr. Renza said he wanted it.”

 

“I’ll give it to him in the morning.”

 

“It needs explanation. Can you just check—”

 

“Why don’t you just tell me the explanation, and I can pass it on?”

 

Nick looks past him, his gaze sweeping over a perfectly kept space as he tries to think. Fuck it. He has a girlfriend at home waiting. “It wasn’t easy to get. The girl has a really complex misdirection set up. The whole appearance is that she’s in Iowa. At a college there. It’s really tight. All the roads led the place they should. I almost stopped looking and brought you the Iowa apartment info I found.”

 

The houseman sighs as if bored. “Just give me the info.” He holds out a hand, the sleeve of his button-up riding up to reveal a watch that looks too dainty to be on a man’s wrist.

 

Nick hands over a single piece of paper, the address on it. “I woulda had it sooner, but it wasn’t easy to get. I had to track it down through the hosting account on a sub website, an old URL that isn’t being used anymore—”

 

“I’ll let him know.” The man snatches the piece of paper, turning, his hand on the knob as he swings the door shut.

 

Nick sticks out a hand, stopping the door. “He told me I’d get a bonus.”

 

The man’s eyes glare at his hand, as if it is offensive. “It’ll be in your paycheck.” His gaze drags to Nick’s face, the edge of his mouth curving slightly. “Your final paycheck. Your services are no longer needed, Mr. Hopper.” He shoves at the door, Nick’s hand moving just in time as the wood clicks shut with a loud finality.

 

He stares at the walnut surface, confusion giving way to irritation. Well… shit. Staring at the knob, he contemplates breaking down the door and getting her address back. Instead, swearing under his breath, he kicks at the nearest planter, the ceramic pot falling over with a satisfying crack, dirt spraying over the marble surface. His boots stomp down the gritty steps as he leaves.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 51

 

 

November 12—Two Years Earlier

 

“WHAT THE FUCK happened?”

 

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