Chapter 17
Oak
I’m going to stroke myself to the memory of her face later. In front of me, the video of Sawyer and Jules runs, reminding me that I’d nearly lost my own cool during their scene. I’d nearly forgotten I wasn’t supposed to be participating and almost stepped around the camera to touch her myself.
She’d run out of the building quickly afterwards, no doubt overstimulated. Sawyer has a way with touch that’ll drive any sane person mad. He knows sensations, and clearly, he struck a nerve with Jules.
Holy shit. She’d been perfect, raw, and so real, I have half a mind to chase after her and beg for a taste myself.
Sawyer and Cash are beside me, working on cleaning up the scene. Sawyer is rearranging the tools, setting them on the rolling cart. Cash is moving toward the table, the table with her juice on top of it, the table with the small drips of breastmilk on it.
“Don’t,” I tell him. “I’ll get the table.”
Cash raises his brow, but doesn’t go toward it, letting me make the decision myself. His eyes focus on the video in front of me, the edits I’m going to have to go through hard as a rock. He whistles, his eyes widening.
“Shit,” he says, watching the way she arches her back when Sawyer trails the ice along her body. “I don’t know about the two of you, but we may have gotten ourselves in deep.”
“Why’s that?” I ask, even though I understand.
“Because I’m really fucking jealous of Saw right about now,” he says, throwing the man in question a glare. “What did she taste like?”
Saw looks up and grimaces. “Like the best fucking peach you’ve ever tasted.”
Cash’s face twists. “I fucking love peaches.”
“We weren’t supposed to fuck,” Saw says, grimacing. “It was just supposed to be sensory play, but she was so fucking perfect, begging me, and I couldn’t resist. I had to have her.”
A heaviness settles in the air around us.
One by one, we realize the very real danger we’re getting ourselves into.
This is a contractual agreement, a business deal and nothing more.
It would be fucking stupid of us to fall for one of our collaborations, someone who’s job is to be aroused for us. It could all be an act.
Though the voice in my mind reacts violently to that. No one is that good of an actress. My eyes trail back over to the table, where her fluids settle on it. The urge to lick it up hits me so strongly, I have to re-adjust my position on my chair.
“We need to take a step back,” I growl, pressing my hand against my hard cock. “Heartbreak ain’t good for this sort of work and we’ve got mouths to feed.” I meet their eyes. “Understand?”
Sawyer frowns. “It’s not like we love her.”
But his words are strained so much even I can hear it. We may not yet.
Yet.
“Understood?” I repeat, my voice hard. We can’t do this.
We can’t risk everything we’ve built because our dumbasses go and fall in love with a fellow cam worker.
It ain’t gonna work and when the contract is up, she’ll leave, taking our hearts with her.
Love ain’t for us. Not like this. Not in this business.
“Understood,” Cash grumbles, the first to cave even if he isn’t happy about it.
I raise my brows. “Saw?”
His face twists with annoyance. “I agree not to jeopardize our business.”
But he doesn’t agree with pulling back. He makes that loud and clear.
Fuck it all to hell. What a mess she’s gonna leave behind when this is all done.