Chapter 15
DAKOTA
Okay, I’ll admit it. This has put cold water on the whole episode.
Hot doesn’t even come close to explaining what just happened.
When his hands and mouth were on me, that was heaven, fire touching my clit and my lips and my core.
I thought it couldn’t get better, or that nerves might ruin it.
But when I felt his cock filling me up, swelling inside…
and saw his face, animalistic, fixed on me, obsessed, I forgot about all the complications.
Now, I feel used, pathetic, and ashamed.
The door creaks. A man says, “What are you doing in here?”
Jack replies angrily. “I told you, Pete, I had an idea. Needed somewhere quiet. Do I need to write you a goddamn report about it?”
“Easy, man,” Pete replies. “I was just asking. People are asking after you. We’ve got palms to grease, remember, if we want back-door access to the latest graphics cards before they’re released.”
That’s smart. That gives them an edge when planning new releases and expansions. I just wish I wasn’t having this observation with my mouth still wet from his cock, my pussy aching and dripping his come into my underwear, while kneeling like an ignored dog on the floor.
“After you,” Jack grunts.
They both leave, the door closing behind them. I count to twenty-five, then stand, feeling his release drip down my leg. When I leave the room, luckily, no one’s in the corridor.
I rush to the bathroom and clean up, wash my hands, and look at myself in the mirror. I feel high, almost, like I’m floating on cloud nine. But also used and a little gross. How can both be true at the same time?
A text arrives as I leave the bathroom.
Jack: I’m so sorry, beautiful. I can’t believe I had to leave you like that. Just know, that I KNOW you deserve more. So much more.
Dakota: Don’t worry about it.
I type, but I don’t send the message.
How can I tell him not to worry when I feel like I might burst into tears any second?
I feel humiliated, and also… angry at myself.
I knew what this was when I came here. It turned me on, I’ve got to admit, the secret looks, the secret texts.
It got me so hot and I didn’t even stop to think about what would come after.
He texts when I don’t respond.
Jack: Where are you, Dakota?
I walk to the entrance of the main hall, hesitating. I can still feel his heat between my legs, his phantom presence filling me up, the fire in his manhood, and his hot mouth on my breasts and sex.
Dakota: I’m going to go home. I’ve had a crazy night. The sex was great. But I need to think.
Jack: Think about what?
I decide not to reply until I’m safely out of here.
I feel dirty as I leave, thighs sticky, head full of what we just did.
I wish I could just focus on him on top of me, every inch of him aimed at me with complete captivation.
Not what came after kneeling on the floor, dirt and dust coating my hands.
Not in the mood to get in a car or a subway yet, I walk a couple of blocks. This is a nightlife neighborhood, partygoers everywhere. My phone vibrates again when I wander into a bar and take a seat at the very end. I order a glass of Coke and take out my phone.
Jack: I don’t want to come on too hot too fast. But the fact is that was an ugly thing back there. I wish I could take it back. The alternative, though, Dakota, would’ve been worse. Believe me.
Dakota: Worse than making me crawl around like your pet?
I shoot the text off, then stuff my phone in the pocket of the dress he bought for me. A dress that probably cost more than his donations to my stream, thousands of dollars. So what? Does that mean he owns me now? Hell to the no.
I love my mother. But I don’t want to be my mother.
My phone vibrates twice, but I ignore it, sipping my Coke slowly. My head is spinning. My heart pounds like thunder. I find myself thinking of Noah, the time Mara came rushing up to our front door with Noah beside her, stimming and crying.
“What happened?” I yelled, rushing downstairs and into my front yard, Mom and Dad joining me.
“The same jerks,” Mara said, looking at me darkly.
There used to be these douchebags who hung around at the end of our street.
We lived in a decent neighborhood, and these middle-class kids had proclaimed themselves the bad boys of this little borough.
I was only thirteen, but nothing could’ve stopped me.
I marched down the street and screamed at these seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds.
Something snapped inside me. I’d made my decision, and that was that.
When I came back, Noah was grinning at me. “Dakky is in charge,” he said, beaming. “DakkyDuck always in charge.”
That was what he called me, that cute boy full of life.
He was little when the nickname started.
Apparently, my laugh sounded like Daphne Duck, but he couldn’t say it right.
The nickname stuck, became my online name, and now hundreds of thousands of people, even millions, know the name.
I’m not saying they tune in. I’m not saying they’re fans. But they’ve heard of me.
A third vibration. With a sigh, I finally check my phone.
The first two messages?—
Jack: The last thing I’d ever want to do is disrespect you. I feel like dirt knowing I did.
Jack: I’d rather you swear at me than this.
His third message reads.
Jack: Where are you? Let me give you a ride home.
I finally text back.
Dakota: You don’t have to do that. People will be suspicious if you leave.
Jack: Too bad. I already left. I said I was ill. I’m in my car, windows tinted to the max. Nobody knows it’s me cruising around this neighborhood. Are you in a cab already?
Dakota: No.
I cringe a little at the fact he mentioned tinted windows. Like he wants to remind me, this has to remain a secret.
Dakota: Should you be driving?
Is that petty? Or am I just scrambling for something to say?
Jack: I only had one and a half. I’d never drive drunk. I didn’t share this before, but that was how my mom did it. We thought it was an accident until we found the note.
Dakota: Did that even happen?
I type, then stare at the message in disbelief. I really am feeling vicious. I delete the message and take a moment before I write my next text.
Dakota: I appreciate the effort, Jack, really. Maybe you’re thinking to yourself, What is this silly little girl doing, rejecting ME? I know you could have any woman in there. I saw the way they were looking at you. They’d crawl around whenever you wanted, I bet. I just need some space. Please.
Jack: I don’t want anybody else. I fucked up. I should’ve planned better. But hear this, Dakota. I ONLY WANT YOU.
Dakota: See, this scares me.
Jack: Too much, too soon? I’d say I was sorry, but I wouldn’t mean it.
Dakota: If I see you when you’re being this affectionate and loving, I might crumble. I’ll stop thinking again. And that’s the only thing I need right now to think. Don’t make me ask again.
Three dots appear, vanish, and appear again.
Finally.
Jack: I understand. I won’t ask again. Just know, I’m here.
Yeah, he’s here…
But what does that even mean if I have to hide in the shadows like some paid plaything?