Chapter 2
Ariel
The sun rises slowly over the ocean, its rays touching the tops of the waves first. Absolutely stunning.
I’ll miss this little beach hotel when I leave.
But I have other places to go. I thought ahead with the Clear Springs reservations, but that was pure luck in case my dad was coming after me himself.
Now that he hired bounty hunters, I have to think further into the future—without the benefit of a good head’s up.
So, like I do whenever I’m uncertain about something, I go online.
Kynkworld is the premier site for adults who wish to push their own sexual boundaries, according to the slogan on the home page.
I have to go through a series of questions ensuring that I am, in fact, over eighteen, before it allows me into the site proper.
If I weren’t a guest, I’d have an easier time navigating it.
Easily remedied. I go through the steps to become a member, even slapping down the ten-dollar subscription fee for the first month. I need a user name, so I choose “seashellsOO” as a nod to my first name. I heard all the mermaid jokes growing up, so I may as well lean in.
I wasn’t even named after that Ariel—I was named after the spirit in The Tempest.
Once I have my fancy new membership to Kynkworld, the site prompts me to look for friends who might already be members.
Well, yes, in fact I do have two friends who are already members—Lyle Meeks and Austin Swetland. I pop in their email addresses and am told there will be a wait while the site contacts them—if they’re members—to ask if they want to be found by my email address.
Annoying process, but I get it. I wouldn’t want just any rando to be able to search for me and find out I’m kinky.
While I wait, I get a text from Lyle. Did you get your winnings last night?
I smile and type, Yes. Thanks for being such a good sport.
I’d be a better sport if you’d tell me where to find you.
Ha. Not a chance. I don’t even dignify that suggestion with a response.
Instead, I get to work. A few sexy shots in front of the window, some leaning over the deck. I’ve always loved taking photos of myself. I control the angle, the lighting, everything about it. I can present whatever kind of story or picture I want.
And right now, I want to present pure, unadulterated sex.
I root through my suitcase for different bras and panties, different shirts.
Photo after photo after photo. Then I graduate to doing a video.
Wearing only underwear and a button-up shirt, I slowly slide the fabric up my thighs to reveal the crotch of my panties.
I don’t have to fake the wet spot. Dressing up like this is turning me on.
Especially when I imagine their reactions.
* * *
Austin
“Lyle.” I glance over at him. He’s focused on the road, his hands loosely on the wheel. Fucker looks like he’s having the time of his life. He isn’t pissed at all about Clear Springs—he seems to think she’s funny.
We’ll see if she’s laughing when I’m spanking her bratty ass.
“What?” The smile on his face pegs him as clearly besotted.
Fuck my life. “She’s trying to connect with me on Kynkworld. I’m sure this is her. SeashellsOO. That’s her face in the profile pic.”
And her tits in the profile pic, too. She isn’t topless, but she isn’t wearing much, either.
“So connect with her.” Lyle sounds like he’s losing patience with me. Well, I’m losing patience with Ariel Capulet. “See what you can find out.”
“If there are any obvious clues, we won’t be following them. She’s messing with us.”
“Maybe. But you gotta admit, she’s cute.”
“She’s a menace.”
“Come on, accept her request. Tell me what she’s posted. I bet it’s hot.”
He has a point, and now curiosity has me in its grip. I accept her request and am immediately rewarded with access to her Kynkworld profile.
Her account is brand new, only created today. And our girl’s been busy. I click on the first image. She’s wearing a t-shirt that looks like it was made for a small child. It hugs her tits as tightly as a bra…a bra which she isn’t wearing. My mouth waters.
“So?” Lyle nudges me with his elbow. “Hot, right?”
“Hot enough.”
He pulls into a motel parking lot. “We’ll sleep here tonight and go over her account. Maybe she left us a clue.”
“It’ll be another false lead. You know it. I know it.”
“It’ll be more than we have now.”
He has a point. But I don’t want to be traveling all over SoCal on a wild goose chase. Or a wild brat chase.
Our motel room is boring, all shades of cream and brown. Bedspread, carpet, curtains, furniture. Lyle calls first dibs on the shower, so I lean back on one of the queen-sized beds and pull up the Kynkworld app.
Fuck, she’s gorgeous. Those elvish green eyes twinkle as she looks into the camera. Her curves are on display in a lacy pink bra and panty set. She’s even wearing a fucking garter belt and stockings. I’m dying here.
I unfasten my jeans, take out my dick, and give it a good stroke. Yeah. A white-hot thrill moves through me.
I scroll to the next image. In this one, her lingerie is different—she’s in a pair of boy-cut panties and a camisole. It’s so sheer, I can see the outline of her nipples. Mouth-watering. I stroke my dick harder.
The next image on the photo carousel is a video. I hold my breath as it begins. She’s wearing a button-up shirt. It’s long and hits her mid-thigh—it looks like it would belong to a man.
If she has a boyfriend, I will perish. I shove the thought from my head as she lifts the hem of the shirt. Up, up, over those smooth thighs. Her light blue panties come into view, and she opens her legs slightly.
Those little blue panties have a wet spot. Her smile grows more mischievous as she starts to lower a hand down the front of them. I stroke myself harder. I’m so close. But I want to see her come, first. How long is this video? Will she get herself off?
She winks. The video has two seconds left.
Fuck. Me. She’s going to leave me hanging.
As she turns the camera to end the video, I catch something in the background. A logo—blue background, with a peach seashell. Is that the ocean in the distance? I didn’t even notice it at first. I was too busy staring at Ariel.
I yank my pants back up. Jerking off can wait.
A search online of hotels and bed-and-breakfasts gives me about a hundred hits, but when I narrow the search to include seashell logos, I find the place. Mirarosa Seashell Hotel.
I pound on the bathroom door. “Lyle. We gotta go. I know where she is.”