Chapter 19
Dean
A week has gone by, and my thirst traps have taken off. I’d posted the video Nick took of me in the tub from the other day and that one, plus a pre-recorded beard oil video I made two days ago, hit the algorithm wave. It’s boosted not only my views, but my followers in astronomical ways. As of last night, I have over a hundred thousand new followers and the views keep climbing.
It's easier for me to make videos on the fly, which I also argue is more authentically me, and Grace agrees. I get in my head when shit is staged. It’s just not my style. But she warned me that I might have to compromise if I land a sponsorship deal with a large company. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there. If I get there.
“Are you ready to get dirty, baby?” Winking, I may be looking at the camera, but I’m talking to Grace.
She’s an inspiration and my biggest fan.
“The snow is falling.” Switching the view to the mountain, I slowly pan the slope before bringing the camera back to me. “How about we go inside and get warm?”
Pausing to go inside, I set Grace’s tripod up by my fireplace and hit record again. Then I place a few choice pieces of wood into the fire and grab the poker. Stroking the length of it, teasing my audience, I say, “Lay back and relax. Let me take care of you.”
It feels so weird doing stuff like this. I’m still awkward, but it helps that Grace is literally stretched out on my sofa, watching me like a spoiled house cat.
“Is that better?” I ask, cocking my brow. “Good. Now how about we lay here all day and keep each other warm .” I slowly unbutton my shirt and then drop character to hit stop on the recording.
“How’s that?” I ask, feeling super self-conscious.
“Really good.”
There’s a hidden but in there. “No critique at all? That’s very un-Grace like.”
She curls up with my blanket and shrugs. “It’s a perfect thirst trap.”
There’s something about her tone that makes me second-guess every video I’ve done. “Should it be more than that?”
Grace sighs. “Not necessarily, but… if you want them to keep coming back, make a connection.”
That sounds fake and weird. “How?”
“Boost them up. Act like you care about them.”
Sitting next to her, with my shirt half-unbuttoned, I rest my elbows on my knees and stare at the fire. “I don’t think I can make a fake connection like that, Grace. It doesn’t feel genuine.” The only connection I want to foster is one with her. No one else.
“I’m not saying be their boyfriend, but social media is an addictive beast. If they’re going to search for another hit of dopamine, let it be something uplifting. This video was a great transition into that. You showed a willingness to take care of them.”
I don’ t like this. “The last thing I want is to lead people on.”
“You’ve been flirting your ass off making thirst traps for over a year, Dean.” Her tone screams annoyance. “Just take it to the next level.”
“I don’t—”
“Look at mine.” She sits up and opens her phone, quickly tapping an app. I’ve yet to study Grace’s social media. Why scroll posts when I have the real thing right at my fingertips?
But I see what she means. Most of her content has a positive message attached to it. Yesterday, she was in a heather gray sweater, jeans, a knit hat, and hefty gold earrings. She sat out in the snow and just laughed. That’s it. Afterwards, she screenshotted a few parts of her short clip, adjusted the lighting, and cropped the photos to showcase the earrings best. The caption said, “Sparkle like the golden goddess you are,” with an upbeat song attached and she tagged the jeweler.
This woman makes it all look so simple. Her class, sex appeal, and… well, grace is unmatched. She has an element of success I’ll never achieve because it’s authentically her. But the comments below make me want to try to do the same thing she is.
I needed this today!
I’m gonna sparkle until I blind my ex-boyfriend with my light #youfumbledthis
I love it when you show up on my feed. You always make me smile.
Nice pic! Love the hat! Too bad you’re a cunt.
Whoa. Hold up. I read that shit comment two more times because my brain refuses to believe anyone would talk to my girl like that. “What the fuck?”
Grace snags the phone from me. “Ignore it, babe. Haters gonna hate.”
I want to find whoever that is and skin them alive. “No one should talk to you that way.”
“It’s the internet. Trolls rule the land there.”
How can she be so chill about a cruel comment like that?
Anger shoots boiling blood through my veins. “Well, that troll is living on borrowed time. If I ever catch someone disrespecting you like that in person, I’ll lose my mind, and they’ll lose their fucking teeth.”
“Aww.” She climbs into my lap and grins like I’m the biggest romantic ever. “You say the hottest things when you’re mad.”
“Hmph.” I’m not joking. Grace is too sweet and kind for people to be shitty to her.
“Negative comments come with the gig, Dean. I don’t let them get to me. I just laugh my way to the bank.”
To calm myself, I wrap my arms around her and grab her ass. She might roll off the nasty comments online, but she’s got a boatload of them circulating in her head, in her mother’s voice. How a mom can treat her daughter like Grace’s mother has treated her makes me murderous. At least my mom had the decency to dump me off on the front porch of someone who would take care of and love me, even if she didn’t. What Grace deals with is cruel and unusual punishment. I want to shield her from every negative thing out there and don’t know how.
“I’ve built my brand and my name on hyping others up and boosting their daily confidence while looking good doing it,” she says, unbothered. “You can do the same thing. Boost the confidence of men and give women pussy flutters.”
“Pussy flutters, huh?”
“Mm hmm.” She kisses the crook of my neck. “You’re extremely good at that, you know.”
My dick hardens as she sucks my earlobe next. “Watch it, Grace. You’re going to have me fucking you on this couch again if you’re not careful.”
“I was thinking the window this time.”
She’s got to be sore. We’ve been at it non-stop for days. But just like every time we touch, my body has a mind of its own, craving her in ways I’ve never fathomed. It’s like the more we kiss, the deeper my addiction gets. Last night she let me use a toy on her and I swear we both saw stars when she came. Watching this perfect creature come undone is incredible.
She pulls off her hoodie and my mouth latches onto her nipple. I suckle her while peeling her yoga pants down her round, pert ass. She stands up, kicks off her pants and braces herself against the back of my couch. And what do you know, her pussy is right where it belongs.
On my face.
I instantly shove my nose into her perfect cunt. Her scent is unreal. I could smother myself in it and die the happiest man on earth.
She moans my name when I lick her. Suddenly desperate to make her come in my mouth, I hook my arms around Grace’s thighs and shove her forward. Her delightful squeal deepens into a guttural groan when I start tongue-fucking her .
A lot of men love eating pussy, but my level of hunger for it is unmatched. “I could go down on you every fucking day.”
“You do go down on me every fucking day.”
I push two fingers inside her. “Can you blame me? You’re divine. So sweet.” I lick her again. “So soft.” I flick my tongue against her clit. “So perfect.”
She holds my head and rides my face. The couch tips back a little when she gets rougher. Grace might just split my lip this time with how hard she grinds on me. I’ll be thrilled if that’s the case. I want her to take what she needs from me, even if it’s brutal.
This woman speaks my language. For as fragile and delicate as she looks, she’s made of iron, not blown glass. Grace fucks like a goddamn demon. Consuming and possessing me with every writhe she makes.
“I’m close.”
Fingering her harder, I suck on her clit until my eyes roll with ecstasy when she detonates. The rush of her juices touches my tongue and I’m in heaven.
“Fuck me,” she begs, breathlessly.
Tipping her to the side, I lay her down on the couch and crawl between her legs. She rips my shirt open, breaking half the buttons. In a rush to get my dick, she fumbles at my jeans, growling as she yanks them past my hips.
“You’re a feral animal,” I tease.
She bites my neck in response.
This woman is perfect.
Kicking off my jeans, I press against her opening and collar her throat, making her look me in the eyes as I push into her. Her pupils blow wide. I bury myself in her until not an inch of me remains. She gasps, taking my length, and clutches my shoulders while she breathes through it.
“Such a good girl,” I coo in her ear. “You take me so well, baby.”
My girl melts under me. Her thighs, which had been wrapped tightly around my middle, now fall open with ease.
“I wish I could do nothing but eat and fuck this pussy until spring.”
“No one’s stopping you from making that happen.”
My hips thrust again. I move slowly, relishing how good she feels, and the way her inner walls clamp down on me. “What if I turn into a quesadilla and you get sick of me?”
She stopped eating those two days ago.
Grace holds my face and deadpans me. “I will never get tired of your dick.”
“What about my mouth?”
“I’ll never get enough.”
“My hands?” I let go of her throat to pinch her nipples.
“Loooove.”
She’s not lying. Every move I make has her clenching me tighter. The noises coming from her soaked pussy is music to my ears. The way she scratches down my back. How she bites my lip. This woman leaves her marks on me every fucking time, and I’m determined to have some of them immortalized on my skin when I have the extra cash to get back into the tattoo shop.
“I’m close,” she warns again.
“Not yet.” I pinch her clit, applying enough pressure to make her hips buck under me .
“Dean!” She writhes, growing desperate. “Please. I have to come.”
“So damn greedy.” I let go of her clit and pull out. Slipping off the couch, I kneel and feast on her pussy again. She comes hard on my tongue. It’s beautiful. Delicious.
“Now who’s greedy?” she giggles, still riding the aftershocks of her orgasm.
“I’m not greedy, I’m insatiable. There’s a difference.” I push my dick back into her and kiss her with her arousal coating my mouth and beard. She doesn’t seem to mind the mess or the taste and that turns me on like nothing else. “Where do you want it, baby?”
“Inside me.”
I always let her pick the place my cum goes. This morning it was her mouth. Last night it was her face.
Leaning back, I watch my cock slide in and out of her. The sound. The heat. The wetness. The visuals are spectacular. “Best view on the mountain,” I growl, rubbing her clit with the pad of my thumb. I know she’s got another orgasm in her somewhere. I’m not coming until she does.
“Oh shit.” Grace’s arms fly back, and she clutches the couch cushion, her legs shaking as I wrench another climax from her precious body.
“That’s my good girl. Grip my cock with that pretty pussy.”
Her clench game makes me see stars. I combust, dick throbbing, pumping my cum inside her until I’m gasping for air. Once I pull out, I gently slide my fingers into her and hold my cum inside her for a moment longer. Then I peer down and say, “Push it out. ”
Her cheeks are flushed as she obeys. My load drips out of her freshly fucked cunt, and I groan watching it.
Grace dips her finger inside herself, gathering my cum, and paints her belly with it. Then she gathers more and sucks it off, licking her fingers clean.
“Dirty girl.” I crush my mouth to hers and love that our tastes collide. The flavor we make is phenomenal.
What I wouldn’t give to do this all day and night for the rest of my life.
My fantasy vanishes quickly when my cell phone goes off. Not many people have my number, so when it rings, it’s important.
“Hang on.” I peel myself away from Grace and dig my cell out of my discarded jeans. It’s Sindra. “Hey, Sindra. What’s up?”
“I’m so sorry to call you like this, but is it possible for you to come plow me out? I’ve got to get to my shop.”
“Sure. No problem.” There’s only about five inches of snow on the ground. No biggie.
“Thank you, Dean. I appreciate it. Nick’s unable to come dig me out and my truck is out of commission, so I’m stuck with the old beater, which doesn’t have four-wheel drive.” She sounds flustered. “Sorry I’m rambling.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m… great, actually.” She laughs a little hysterically. “I have no idea what’s happened, but I’ve had a huge influx in online orders.”
“That’s amazing.” My chest warms thinking maybe I had something to do with that because of my viral video .
“This miracle couldn’t have come at a better time. I’ve been struggling so much lately.” It’s radio silent for a few heartbeats. “Anyway...” She clears her throat. “I’d really like to get into the shop and fulfill these orders as quickly as possible. Give them top-tier customer service, ya know?”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“You’re the best. Thank you.”
I hang up and grin. “Sindra said she’s gotten a ton of online orders.”
Grace is practically glowing. “That’s amazing.”
I cradle her face, grateful this woman walked into my life. “Thank you so damn much for helping her.”
“I didn’t do anything. You did all the work.”
“It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t pushed me to make a video like that.”
Even if it’s a temporary boost in sales, this is a big step in the right direction for Sindra’s small company. “I hope she gets big from this.”
“I’ll help with that,” Grace promises. “And I’ll make sure you see a lot of success, too.” She laces her fingers with mine and kisses my hand.
My throat tightens at the gesture. “You’ve given me the greatest gift a man could ask for, Grace.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Hope.”