21. Georgia
Chapter 21
Georgia
H emingway's had been uncharacteristically busy, a few regulars and a photoshoot with a local photographer that often paid a small fee to use the space for her book-loving clients. Sarah had popped over during her break, a vanilla latte in hand as she hopped onto one of the stools behind the register with me.
“I brought you a sandwich, and it’s not even expired.” She winked at me conspiratorially as she handed me the warm, paper-wrapped croissant.
“Shh, oh my god Sarah!” I laughed, looking around like Hank could be found hiding behind a bookcase. Sarah rolled her eyes, taking a bite of her own lunch.
“Don’t sweat it, we all do it. There’s literally no reason for us to throw out perfectly good food.” We chewed in silence, both of us enjoying the peace from the mid-morning rush. “So how’s money stuff going?”
I nearly choked on my ham and cheese croissant as I observed my friend; I’d always told her everything. I hadn’t grown up with too many friends, so when Sarah had started working at The Grind a year back, we’d stuck together like glue. But I couldn’t tell her; even if I skipped the part where I was fucking my neighbor, I really wanted that part of my life separate. That was just for me and Quinn…and the entire internet, but that’s beside the point.
“I found a few side hustles,” I replied, swallowing the hot coffee a little too quickly as it scalded my throat. “I’m hoping to get my car fixed soon.”
“I’m really trying to talk Hank into more hours, but you know how it is.”
I did know. Everyone was struggling recently; even the florist across the street changed their closing time to two hours earlier just to save on payroll and utilities. When the older historic homes were bought out and bulldozed, it brought up the prices for everyone—including those of the buildings we all poured our hopes and livelihoods into.
“So,” she whispered conspiratorially, “Did you ever hear back from Jason?”
I groaned in disgust, immediately remembering the less-than-stellar kiss and disgusting attempt at a hook-up text. “Absolutely not.”
Sarah shook her head. “I was just wondering. You have this…I don’t know,” she said as she inspected me, chewing on her check like she was trying to put the right words together and doing an all-encompassing motion around my body. “ Glow or something.”
I tried so hard not to allow my tell-tale flush to creep up my neck and into my cheeks as I took a longer-than-necessary sip of my hot latte.
Sarah pushed my shoulder lightly with a click of her tongue. “Okay, well, when you’re ready to tell me who this mystery person is who has you all aglow…I’ll be readyyyyy.” She sighed, “No, seriously, like I will want all the details. I am having the dry spell of dry spells.”
A laugh nearly escaped me when a thought burst into my head that wanted to desperately announce, “Oh, I don’t even have to tell you, I can show you for a small payment of $9.99 a month.”
I had barely walked in the door when I heard a knock; I looked down at my phone to see no new notifications, and I wasn't expecting any packages. Maybe Quinn was bringing me more food? That might have been hopeful thinking as I realized I hadn't gone shopping. My suspicions were immediately confirmed as I peeked through the open door to see an apprehensive Quinn rocking back and forth on his heels.
"More takeout?" I quipped, opening the door and setting my hand on my hip as I regarded the tall man. A shadow of a beard ghosted over his face; he looked a little more rugged, and I didn't not like it.
"No takeout, but a proposition?" He closed his mouth quickly as one of our upstairs neighbors sauntered down the stairs. I waved him inside, smiling warmly at the older man, who gave us an odd look as he left. I shut and locked the door quickly before wrapping my arms around myself, a shiver running up my back as he brushed by me. He hadn’t even touched me, but my body reacted nonetheless.
"So?" I prompted, immediately looking around my messy apartment and hoping he wouldn’t look too closely at the pile of laundry sitting on my dining room table or the garbage bag full of clothes I had been meaning to drop off to the donation bin. For three months. Maybe four.
Quinn cleared his throat, looking a bit vulnerable as he scrubbed a hand down his face. "I got a request from a particular…very wealthy subscriber." He paused, looking everywhere but my face. "I know we talked about livestreams, but I wasn't sure if I talked to you about requests. And I got one…tonight."
I uncrossed my arms to pick up Hannah as she trotted by. "What was the request?" This was when Quinn blushed, which was unusual for him, so my interest immediately peaked. "Oh, this has to be good; what is it?"
Quinn sighed. "She's really into edging." He paused as if to make sure I knew what that was, at which I immediately made a face. Jesus Christ, I had been deep in the online writing community since I was eighteen; I knew what edging was. "But not for you. She's really into borderline dom/sub, but with the woman taking the lead. "
I was intrigued, and I couldn't lie. I had always seen Wolfe in very dominant roles, and he seemed to thrive in them; I had never been a very dominant person in the bedroom, but of course, I’d never really had a chance to try it.
"So," I dragged out as I set the cat down, "she wants me to edge you on camera?"
Quinn nodded, rubbing the back of his neck."If it's not your thing, I completely understand. Seriously, I do," he said quickly, raising his hands as he took my contemplation for hesitation. "She just pays very well. I could do fifty-fifty like usual. No more than ten minutes."
"Stop rambling, Quinn, I'll do it." I grinned, my stomach fluttering as I considered the request. "I'm intrigued. I can meet you in fifteen minutes?"
Quinn made a surprised face before nodding, and I locked the door behind him as he left. Quickly, I brushed my teeth and washed my face, hastily applying the same red lipstick I had worn before. The mask would cover my eyes, so I wasn't going to worry about anything else.
Before I knew it I was knocking at Unit 2's door, my lace mask clutched in my hand as I looked around in case anyone saw me standing at his door like an idiot. As soon as the dark wood door opened a crack, I slipped inside to find Quinn standing in the red light that flooded out of his bedroom into the hallway.
I set my bag down on his spotless dining room table with comfortable ease at this point. I no longer felt as nervous entering his apartment; I was now excited at the prospect. When I’d given Quinn a blowjob last session, I was more than thrilled with his reaction and the fact that I was dragging that reaction from him. It was more than just a little bit of a confidence boost.
"Okay, want to give me a rundown?" I asked, shrugging out of my cardigan and stuffing it into my bag. Quinn nodded and handed me his work phone; he was close enough that I could smell his college and that bergamot body wash. I didn't mind the scent.
Quinn left me with the phone while he went to grab two water bottles from his fridge and made his way to the bedroom, holding his mask from the dryer.
"You wash your mask?" I asked incredulously because, for some reason, it didn't cross my mind, and it just looked so domestic.
Quinn pulled a face, "Do you know how much I sweat in this thing? I refuse to get a breakout, even in the name of entrepreneurship."
Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to the phone. It was a message on whatever server Quinn used as his Masked Wolfe account.
Anon746 : I would love a video of you getting edged, maybe with a little bit of submission thrown in if you're feeling up to it. I enjoyed the previous videos of you and Princess and would love some more of the same with your new partner!
Princess—that had been Natalie's stage name. Okay, even if I hadn't had a lot of practice in this area, I couldn't deny that I was intrigued by the idea. The least I could do was try, right?
Taking a deep breath, I put the phone on the table and pulled my hair into a ponytail, the top of my bangs brushing the lace mask.
"Any questions?" he asked, already shirtless with a mask set on top of his head like a beanie. I shook my head but quickly reconsidered.
"We talked about my boundaries, but we didn't talk about yours," I realized suddenly, hoping I hadn't crossed any boundaries before this with my naivety.
Quinn smiled before replying, the stupid smile bringing out his equally stupid dimple. "I'd tell you if we did anything crazy, I promise. We're just recording; I was thinking a simple handjob would do it."
I swallowed hard and nodded, my brain immediately thinking of him on his knees, looking up at me. "Yeah, I'm good, let's get to it!"
It started like usual, with us communicating and going over the scene. I decided to keep on my white t-shirt, which I’d paired with some black panties, and I shucked the leggings I’d been wearing all day into a corner and out of sight of the camera.
"Okay, we're rolling!" Quinn exclaimed, rolling down his face mask and turning to me, just the cut out of his eyes and thick brows visible as he said, "Thanks again for doing this on such short notice. I was going to turn her down, but I figured I'd ask."
I shrugged. "I need the extra cash, so why not." Even with the mask around my eyes, I could still see him fairly clearly, his chest heaving slightly.
"So what are you waiting for?" I lilted, cocking my head to the side as my eyes trailed up his body. "Get on your knees, Wolfe."
Quinn raised an eyebrow. "You're going to have so much fun with this, aren't you?" But I didn't need to ask twice as he sank to his knees, staring at me the entire time he did so. My breath caught in my throat; it was a masterpiece.
Wolfe's skin, somehow even more bronze skin under the red lights that danced over the peaks and valleys of his muscles, never ceased to make my mouth dry—and him on his knees with his eyes trained on me? Like he was asking me what to do next? A large part of me knew I preferred when he was in control, when he threw his weight around and me along with it; however, there was a curious part of me that began to think that I could get used to this.
I didn't even really know what I was doing; it was all instinct at this point as I walked closer to him, taking his chin in my hand and lifting it higher to make sure his eyes were on mine.
"Are you going to be a good boy?" I asked, my voice low and so unlike itself that I nearly didn't recognize it. With my hand still gripping his chin, I felt more than saw the shudder that ran through him at my question as he swallowed hard.
"Yes," Wolfe whispered, soft and obedient. I walked around him, my hand trailing under his chin and around his neck until I was behind. Part of me wished he didn't have his mask, that I could run my hands through his thick, black, tousled curls until he was putty in my hands.
I thought about him on the night I’d rubbed the ointment into his shoulder, about how he’d relaxed so quickly under a soft touch. Maybe he liked that? So I carefully ran my nails around the back of his neck where the seam of the mask met his tan skin. A shiver ran through him, bumps rising in the wake of the slow drag of my fingers.
"Have you done this before?" he muttered, his voice sounding breathy.
"No, so don't spoil the mood," I quipped, and he nodded, but I saw the way his eyes crinkled at the sides as he smiled underneath the black mask.
"Okay, it's your show," he whispered, the cameras’ red lights blinking and the hum of the lamps surrounding us as I stood behind him. I could hear his breath catching, a shudder running up his spine as I artfully traced the finely toned muscles of his shoulders.
Wolfe swallowed hard as I tilted his chin up to look at me, knowing that the shirt I was wearing was thin and see-through. I was feeling bold, seeing this tall, confident man staring up at me with pupils blown as he waited for my next command.
"Are you going to be a good boy?" I purred, allowing Lace to come through. Or whomever I was with the mask on, someone who wanted desperately to see this man come undone. To give him just a taste of how he made me feel, how his touch sparked a fire in my veins.
I nearly started as I felt his hand wrap around my calf as if he were steading himself. "Yes," he gasped out, his amber eyes watching my every move. It was my turn to swallow, knowing that the cameras were running, though I knew he could edit out any hesitation on my part.
"Take off your pants, Wolfe." I broke the silence, the words coming out before I realized I had uttered them. I didn't take my eyes off him as he slowly stood, taking off his pants easily. Wolfe was already hard, his hands fisted at his side like he wanted to touch himself, but he was waiting.
I stepped in front of him, and I heard a sharp inhale of breath as his hard cock brushed against my stomach. I quickly remembered something I’d seen in a porn clip once, and that it had, you know, awakened something in me. So, what the hell, right?
Grazing my fingers along the underside of his dick, caressing the vein there until he was panting, I finally gave him a reprieve.
"Lift your mask, Wolfe," I commanded, my voice soft yet confident. It was everything I was not feeling right now, but the small wave of lustful power seemed to be working in my favor. I was going to be so embarrassed after this, but to his credit, Wolfe didn't look like he was going to make fun of me.
His chest was rising and falling so fast it was as if he was running a race. Carefully, Wolfe turned the end of the mask up onto the bridge of his nose, the slight dusting of beard making a rare appearance on camera.
My stomach flipped at the view, and I swore if I were taller, I would be so tempted to kiss along that jawline.
No! Get yourself together, Georgia. Once again, I recalled the source material and imitated it as tactfully as possible.
Holding my hand under his chin, I cocked my head as I whispered, "spit." Wolfe's eyes widened, tongue coming out to wet his lips before grabbing my wrist and doing what I commanded.
Little shit couldn't last ten minutes without trying to turn the tables because fuck, why was I sweating and my pulse racing as soon as he gripped and touched my wrist?
Raising my brows in playful combativeness, I lowered my spit-soaked hand to his cock and began pumping him slowly.
His eyes rolled back in his head for a moment as something akin to a growl tried to break free from his clenched jaw.
"How does it feel, Wolfe?" I teased, using my thumb to circle the head of his cock, and I felt his body rock against my hand almost imperceptibly.
The masked man cleared his throat before he answered softly, "Good."
I hummed, pumping a bit faster while I watched him all the while. God, I had been reading some filthy forums online lately for tips and tricks, and by the way he was panting, they were paying off.
Wolfe's lower abdominal muscles began to clench, and on my last twist, I pulled away entirely, and he whined at the loss. Fuck he looked ruined. And it looked so good on him.
"Goddamn, I swear payback is coming," he whispered, knowing that he would be editing that part out. I smiled, biting my lower lip playfully.
"Hmm, I don't think you will," I countered, looking him up and down, "because I think you're enjoying yourself too much." I touched him again, featherlike down his weeping cock as he shuddered. Wolfe's hand came out to clutch my waist as if to hold himself up, and I went back to work. I kept twisting, alternating from fast to tortuously slow as he panted above me, making the most sinful sounds I had ever heard.
The second time I pulled away, he growled, and without warning, Wolfe's tanned and tattooed forearm grabbed my chin, hauling me closer to him. Close enough that his cock was pressed against my stomach, and I could feel the heat of his desire.
"Dammit, woman," he growled, hand grasping the side of my face now as he fought to control his breathing. I couldn't help it; the way he was squirming was making me feel some kind of way. Mostly turned on.
"You asked for this," I reminded, pushing him backward and making sure he was still in view of the cameras as Wolfe made contact with the wall. I gave no quarter, remembering his little threat about spanking my ass the next time we had sex. "Do you want to cum, Wolfe?" I said his stage name with intention, his eyes widening as I took him again. I was going to give him some mercy; besides, it was nearly dinner time, and I was starving.
Wolfe grabbed my ponytail, not hard enough to hurt but enough to stabilize him as his head fell back to hit the wall, and I pumped my fist over his cock over and over. He was thick and long, a perfect combination, but my wrist was tiring quickly.
Dirty talk. I quickly remembered that Wolfe said this certain subscriber loved dirty talk.
"Are you going to cum for me?" I asked sweetly, watching his tongue dart out and wet his lips as he heaved. "Well, are you?"
"Yes!" he gasped, nearly whining as I twisted my wrist at the head of his swollen cock. "Please, Ge—Lace. Please." I faltered at this near mishap, my breath catching in my throat at the strained plea. I swallowed and chose to ignore it, picking up my pace as I did so.
“Well then, be a good boy. Cum for me, Wolfe," I whispered the command, keeping my voice soft but authoritative. Wolfe whined out a drawn-out "fuckkkk," his back bowed from the wall as his abdominal muscles clenched and gave me a slight warning before he came overhand. I didn't stop, though; I pushed him through his orgasm until he squirmed in overstimulation. So there we were, me with a tired wrist and feeling way too self-satisfied for someone who didn't even get off, and Wolfe struggling to remember what timeline he was in.
I smirked, and with my clean hand, I patted his unmasked cheek. "Good boy." Then I walked out of the frame from the camera and went to the bathroom to wash up, feeling way too proud of myself.