Page 2 of Beg for It
CHAPTER TWO
BLAIR
“Alright, I’m just going to leave you here to process for like fifteen minutes, and then I’ll be back to check on the foils and see if you need longer. Okay?”
“Okay.” I give Crystal a nod, the aluminum foils in my hair making a rattling noise with the movement.
She disappears to elsewhere in the salon, leaving me alone at her station in the back corner. I subtly check around to make sure there isn’t anyone who could look over my shoulder and sneak one of my earbuds into my ear before pulling out my phone.
I have a bit of a guilty pleasure, one that I’m not totally proud of, given the image I portray to the outside world.
But it’s one of the only ways I find relief from the constant pressure that threatens to drown me, it releases the valve on the darkness inside and makes me burn in the best way possible.
Swiping my phone open, I pull up my favorite app and type my go-to creator’s handle into the search bar.
I’d gotten a notification while Crystal was finishing up the last of my highlights that he’d gone live.
Catching one of these is a rare opportunity, and there is no way I am missing it when I have the time to spare.
Phantom is a renowned masked video game streamer.
He’s amassed millions of followers for his streaming content, becoming one of the most well-known live streamers in the gaming community.
I don’t know that much about video games, but I’ve picked up crumbs here and there watching his stuff.
The real reason why I watch him is because he also films thirst traps feeding into the masked man frenzy that has taken over the internet the last couple of years.
Some might find his videos cringe, but I can’t help but crave more.
His fanbase is a healthy mixture of nerd bros and horny hoes.
I first came across his account by accident after searching videos for one of the romance books I’d read and falling down a masked man rabbit hole.
Phantom captivated me instantly. There was something about the way his husky voice curled deep into my soul.
Promises of submission and punishment, teasing taunts tied to endless sex appeal.
The dark and twisted temptations he whispered awoke a desire I only felt when secretly listening to my spicy audiobooks.
His masked identity only adds to the attraction.
No one knows what he looks like. He always wears a black balaclava, the bottom half painted with the jaw of a white skull.
His eyes were rimmed with a smudged charcoal liner, which only makes the ice blue of his eyes all the more stark.
Half the time he’s shirtless, the other half he teases us with those muscle tees that show off his delicious biceps.
He even has a few tattoos that just add to the overall hotness factor: a laurel branch on each collarbone, Roman numerals on his shoulder, and a spider with an 8 on its body where the defined V-line meets his waistband.
My mouth is practically drooling over the thought of him.
I click on his profile and join the live.
Tsk.
It’s a muscle tee day.
I guess that makes sense given that it’s a ripe 10 a.m. But then again, who knows what time zone he is in or if his American accent is even legit. Maybe he’s some hot Australian trying to keep his identity a secret.
Yeah, right.
As if he wouldn’t use an Australian accent for his own benefit.
“Good morning, good morning.” His deep timbre fills my ears and sends a chill through my body, goosebumps pebbling my skin at the mere sound.
“I hope you all slept well. I know I did.” He raises his hands above his head in a stretch, causing the cropped muscle tee to rise and show a delicious few inches of golden skin, including that sexy spider tattoo.
I bite my lip, holding the phone even closer to my face.
It’s so easy to get lost to his words—to his body.
“Whoops, did I give you a little show?” He leans closer to the camera, tilting his head to the side. “I bet you liked that, didn’t you? Always thirsty, always hungry. Greedy little thing, aren’t you?”
I cross my legs, tensing my thighs.
I really shouldn’t be watching this in public.
Except, that’s part of the thrill.
He sits back down in his chair and adjusts himself in his sweatpants, a move that doesn’t go unnoticed by me or the ten thousand other people watching right now. The screen fills up with a bunch of drool emojis, but my gaze is unabashedly locked onto his crotch.
This obsession is unhealthy, but his videos get me hotter than any guy I’ve ever dated, and a part of me knows the reason behind that is because he wouldn’t be some guy who would treat me like a fragile piece of glass or a bang-and-bounce.
No. This man holds the promise to use and abuse my body within an inch of its life, until screams of pain and pleasure become one.
Part of me feels a little guilty. That I shouldn’t be drawn to things like this.
I’ve read romances about women who get chased by serial killer stalkers and then banged deep in a forest, or who are threatened at gunpoint by some mafia man who then uses his gun to get her off.
The darker the romance, the more consumed I am.
Phantom plays right into that with the teasing lines he pulls, and he knows it.
God, if I could meet him just once, I’d let him do the filthiest things to me.
As I watch him lean back in his chair, those piercing eyes narrowing down at the camera, I imagine myself kneeling before him and—
“Blair, are you—”
I let out a squeal and drop my phone to the ground at the sudden interruption.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry. Let me grab that.” Crystal leans down to grab my phone, but I launch my arm out to secure the device between my fingers before she has the chance.
“Will you be a good girl for me today? Or will I have to punish you tonight?”
Phantom’s voice bleeds through my singular earbud, the live stream still playing on my phone.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
I scramble to click off my phone without flipping the screen around. The last thing I need is for Crystal to get a peek and go gabbing to Mother about the strange guy in red mood lighting and a mask I was questionably salivating over in the back corner of the hair salon.
My earbud goes silent, and I mentally clap myself on the back for the quick save.
With practiced precision, I sit my ass firmly back in the chair and smile up at Crystal.
“Sorry, I was totally zoned out. Not your fault at all.”
She waves her hand. “It’s normal. Lean back for me a bit more. I want to check the foils to see how you’re developing.”
I rest my tense shoulders against the back of the leather chair. My body is a complete mess right now, panic and desire mixing in a way that isn’t the sexy kind.
“Okay, I took a few out, but the rest I’m going to leave for like five more minutes. Then, we’ll wash you out and I’ll put the toner through. Sound good?”
“Peachy.”
She disappears once again, but this time, I don’t dare indulge in my fantasy. While I’m back in town, it’s probably safer to keep my secrets to dark of night.