Page 77
Story: Cam Girl
I can’t help the little razz and I’m rewarded with laughter.
“They know better than to mess with us. Doctor Walton is a pillar of the community. One look at that lanky bastard and they turn tail and run,” Aiden says.
My hand trembles on the glass. “And what are you and Soren? The degenerates?”
“Why don’t you tell me.” When I turn back, Aiden pats the space beside him on the couch. “You don’t have to bolt away so quickly. You can chill. I’ll be civilized.”
I’d been slowly inching out of the kitchen, I realize. But not because of him.Because of me.
Because I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the windows. The skimpy sleep shorts and a black tank do nothing to hide the fact that I’m not wearing a bra and leaves a whole lot of my legs exposed. Legs I’d rather Aiden not see. Not with their cellulite and stretch marks.
We’re friendly with each other, agreeable. I don’t want to ruin it with my crappy insecurities
He keeps tapping until I cave.
His smile is infectious. “My buzz has faded, if that’s what you’re asking,” he says as I slither closer. “I’m not having that kind of fun now.”
I perch on the side of the couch, take a long sip of water and set the glass down. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I’ll leave you to whatever it is you consider fun.”
He reaches out to grab my ankle and tugs me off the couch arm. With a yip I topple over, my head dangerously close to his lap and laughter bubbling up.
“Sorry, Gilli—you’re not going anywhere. I don’t want you to leave,” he tells me slyly. His eyes narrow pleasantly, his hair still arched over the top of his head and held in place with gel. “I can use the company.”
I right myself and smooth my own hair back. Our thighs touch but the blanket provides a barrier once I tug it halfway off of him and across my own lap, snugglingunderneath.
“You were surrounded by people all night,” I remind him. “I’m sure you’ve had enough company. Besides, isn’t that the reason you guys keep coming to the cabin? To get away?”
“Yes, but it was boys’ night. You weren’t there. You would have been welcome, you know.”
My head tips back. “This is the first time you’ve lied to me.”
He chuckles softly. “You’re right. I’m sorry Soren is still being a prick. Next time, if you want company yourself, we’ll go and have a nice meal.”
Like a date.
The idea of sitting down with them, no fights, just good food and drinks and jokes, releases the tightness around my heart. But what I tell him is, “I usually get my socialization out of the way at work.”
“Work is work. It’s not fun. It’s not letting your hair down.” Aiden reaches over and rearranges the strands.
Goosebumps rise where he skims against my skin. I let him touch me, holding my breath. Let him push my hair away from my face and smile at me.
“It’s the only time I have,” I say. “There’s no other chance to let my hair down.”
“Until now. You know what they say about all work and no play?—”
“It gets you to your dreams faster,” I fill in.
He holds my gaze a few seconds longer, a smile still tugging at the corner of his lips. It holds none of his normal humor, though. There’s a tension to his shoulders and his eyes are like living flames.
“You should be out with friends, dancing and drinking and dressing in tight little outfits designed to make people drool.”
I open my mouth but quickly zip it shut. I wear those outfits any day of the week, for an audience of hundreds or thousands—tens of thousands, if I’m lucky.
“I’m not interested in it,” I admit.
His gaze drops to my exposed legs, the blanket only covering my upper thighs. An eyebrow wriggle breaks the tension before it has a chance to grow roots.
“Then you’d be the first woman I’ve met who prefers to isolate this way rather than having fun with friends.”
“They know better than to mess with us. Doctor Walton is a pillar of the community. One look at that lanky bastard and they turn tail and run,” Aiden says.
My hand trembles on the glass. “And what are you and Soren? The degenerates?”
“Why don’t you tell me.” When I turn back, Aiden pats the space beside him on the couch. “You don’t have to bolt away so quickly. You can chill. I’ll be civilized.”
I’d been slowly inching out of the kitchen, I realize. But not because of him.Because of me.
Because I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the windows. The skimpy sleep shorts and a black tank do nothing to hide the fact that I’m not wearing a bra and leaves a whole lot of my legs exposed. Legs I’d rather Aiden not see. Not with their cellulite and stretch marks.
We’re friendly with each other, agreeable. I don’t want to ruin it with my crappy insecurities
He keeps tapping until I cave.
His smile is infectious. “My buzz has faded, if that’s what you’re asking,” he says as I slither closer. “I’m not having that kind of fun now.”
I perch on the side of the couch, take a long sip of water and set the glass down. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I’ll leave you to whatever it is you consider fun.”
He reaches out to grab my ankle and tugs me off the couch arm. With a yip I topple over, my head dangerously close to his lap and laughter bubbling up.
“Sorry, Gilli—you’re not going anywhere. I don’t want you to leave,” he tells me slyly. His eyes narrow pleasantly, his hair still arched over the top of his head and held in place with gel. “I can use the company.”
I right myself and smooth my own hair back. Our thighs touch but the blanket provides a barrier once I tug it halfway off of him and across my own lap, snugglingunderneath.
“You were surrounded by people all night,” I remind him. “I’m sure you’ve had enough company. Besides, isn’t that the reason you guys keep coming to the cabin? To get away?”
“Yes, but it was boys’ night. You weren’t there. You would have been welcome, you know.”
My head tips back. “This is the first time you’ve lied to me.”
He chuckles softly. “You’re right. I’m sorry Soren is still being a prick. Next time, if you want company yourself, we’ll go and have a nice meal.”
Like a date.
The idea of sitting down with them, no fights, just good food and drinks and jokes, releases the tightness around my heart. But what I tell him is, “I usually get my socialization out of the way at work.”
“Work is work. It’s not fun. It’s not letting your hair down.” Aiden reaches over and rearranges the strands.
Goosebumps rise where he skims against my skin. I let him touch me, holding my breath. Let him push my hair away from my face and smile at me.
“It’s the only time I have,” I say. “There’s no other chance to let my hair down.”
“Until now. You know what they say about all work and no play?—”
“It gets you to your dreams faster,” I fill in.
He holds my gaze a few seconds longer, a smile still tugging at the corner of his lips. It holds none of his normal humor, though. There’s a tension to his shoulders and his eyes are like living flames.
“You should be out with friends, dancing and drinking and dressing in tight little outfits designed to make people drool.”
I open my mouth but quickly zip it shut. I wear those outfits any day of the week, for an audience of hundreds or thousands—tens of thousands, if I’m lucky.
“I’m not interested in it,” I admit.
His gaze drops to my exposed legs, the blanket only covering my upper thighs. An eyebrow wriggle breaks the tension before it has a chance to grow roots.
“Then you’d be the first woman I’ve met who prefers to isolate this way rather than having fun with friends.”
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