Chapter 46 Roni
Roni
I chuckle softly, imagining his face as he typed it. Typical Vic, never giving too much away.
My fingers hover over the keyboard for a moment before I decide to tease him a bit and type back.
@Unhinged: Oh, you'll love what's coming. Trust me.
An uncontrollable belly laugh bursts from my insides, and I’m itching to tell someone. Anyone, really. I don’t really want to talk to Phoenix about his errand boy though. But—
@Roni: BITCH, OMG! P’s slaveboy is creeping on my feed again.
I switch tabs to check my analytics. The numbers are climbing steadily, but it's not about the followers anymore. It's about the game. The delicious contradiction of having the slimiest real-world fuckboys become my most devoted digital cheerleaders.
A notification pops up on my screen, another message from Vic.
@GuardDawg69: I’ll be patiently waiting.
He probably thinks he’s being so discreet. I need to fuck with him. The way giving him blue balls will make my day cannot be overstated.
Chloe: Babes…
Chloe: You can’t be surprised.
@Roni: And why’s that?
Chloe: Cuz.
Chloe: U R
The only way I know to combat the demons within me is to tease men.
To torture them with thoughts of touching me.
Of tasting me. Of owning me. Then leaving them hanging.
It’s the power I’ve taken back since my captivity.
And while it’s always there, haunting my thoughts, I am the one using them now.
@Roni: Aw, thanks girly. Imma go tease him a little.
As I exit the studio, the sun warms my skin, and I can't help but feel a surge of happiness. I spot Vic stationed outside, ever the diligent one.
“Hey, Vic,” I greet brightly, noting the way his eyes light up when he sees me.
My silk robe catches the daylight as I move, translucent enough to reveal tantalizing glimpses of the fishnet beneath. My fingers trace the edge of the fabric at my collarbone, then slowly pull one shoulder free, letting the material pool at my elbow.
“You're not allowed to move,” I whisper, my voice carrying across the space between us. The leather of my gloves squishes softly as I flex my fingers.
Vic's hands grip the underside of his metal chair, knuckles white with restraint. His eyes follow every deliberate movement as I turn, the robe flowing like water around my curves. The platform sneakers add a hypnotic rhythm to my steps as I circle him, always just out of reach.
I pause beside the chair, my breath warm against his ear though I maintain a maddening distance, daring him to defy me and turn his head.
“I need to grab some stuff. Mind fetching me a case of water from the garage?” I whisper
He nods, eager to help, and I watch him go with a fond smile. It's amusing how he always seems so pleased when I'm in a good mood.
Little does he know, the excitement is just beginning. I slip back into the studio while he's busy with my task, quickly unlocking my laptop and pulling up the livestream settings, the perfect ruse to take my taunt an extra step.
I position my camera carefully on the hidden shelf opposite the doorway, angling it to capture the entire interaction. The red light blinks, signaling we're live, just as I hear Vic's footsteps returning. I open the door a crack and plaster an enticing smile across my face.
“Thanks,” I say, taking the water case from him. Our fingers brush, and I notice the slight tremor in his. “Something wrong?”
“No, not at all,” he says too quickly, eyes darting to my exposed shoulder.
I set the water down deliberately, bending at the waist rather than the knees, then turn and shove the door closed in Vic’s face.
Do I need to treat my personal security like pets?
No. But, I love keeping creepy men bowing at my feet.
He’s actually very nice to me. I just can’t escape the thrill I get knowing how men itch to be putty in my hands.
Begging to be stroked. And once I start capitalizing on their gaze, the rush of the power over them fills me like a bloodlust.