Page 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Liam

I paced back and forth across Bradley's old bedroom, the tension in my shoulders so tight it felt like I was wearing a too-small jacket. The room was dim, the blinds half-closed, casting striped shadows across the bed that had become my impromptu filming space. It still smelled faintly like Bradley's cologne—a sharp, woody scent that only added to the weirdness of the situation.

I couldn’t stop replaying @Monster69’s—photos in my head. After meeting Laura yesterday, I’d fallen down the rabbit hole of his online presence. His Reddit page was…impressive. Golden hair, broad chest, those sea-green eyes that practically screamed confidence. And here I was, a jittery mess, about to star in a video with someone who looked like they’d been hand-sculpted by a Roman god.

The worst part wasn’t even how intimidatingly good-looking he was. It was me. I was raised to believe intimacy was supposed to mean something—an extension of love, trust, connection. My parents, bless their overly traditional hearts, had drilled that into me from a young age. I’d rebelled here and there, but the few times I’d hooked up randomly, I’d always walked away feeling...wrong. Like I’d betrayed something fundamental about myself.

But rent was due. Jack couldn’t know. And I was running out of options.

My phone buzzed, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. I fumbled for it, hoping it wasn’t some last-minute cancellation that would leave me scrambling for money again.

@Monster69: OMG! Did you know we live in the same building? Me and my camera operator will be there in five minutes. Oh, and my real name is Cam.

Five minutes.

Five minutes until I was supposed to strip down, let some stranger touch me on camera, and somehow act like I knew what I was doing. I stared at the message, the words swimming on the screen, and my stomach churned.

My thumbs moved automatically, texting back:

Great. I’m ready when you are.

I was definitely not ready.

Wait—camera operator?

It hit me all at once. He wasn’t just bringing himself. He was bringing someone else. An audience.

The room felt smaller, the walls pressing in on me. My breath caught in my throat, shallow and too fast. My legs wobbled as I stumbled to the bed and sank onto the edge, my head dropping between my knees.

“Okay,” I whispered to myself, voice shaking. “You can do this. It’s just…a job. People do this all the time. It’s not a big deal.”

But it was a big deal.

I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on my breathing. In through my nose, out through my mouth. My heart was racing, each beat like a hammer against my ribs. Sweat gathered at the back of my neck, running down my back.

I tried to picture my bank balance. How much I needed the money that would come from this. Rent. Groceries. A tiny sliver of dignity when Jack inevitably asked if I was doing okay.

But all I could see was the look on my mom’s face if she ever found out.

I groaned, pressing my palms against my forehead. “Stop thinking about that,” I muttered. “Focus. Breathe.”

I glanced at my phone again, willing myself to send another message, maybe cancel the whole thing. But I didn’t. Instead, I stood up, straightened my shirt, and walked to the dresser mirror. My reflection looked as pale and frazzled as I felt, but I forced a smile.

“You’re gonna get through this,” I whispered.

The knock at the door echoed through the apartment, like the toll of a bell. My stomach dropped, but I forced my feet to move, one step at a time, until I was standing in front of the door.

I reached for the knob, my hand trembling as if it had a mind of its own, and pulled the door open.

There he was— Cam, as he’d introduced himself in his message. In person, he was even more striking than his photos. Broad shoulders, perfect golden hair that curled just right at the ends, and that grin—a mixture of easy charm and complete confidence. He stuck out a hand, and I instinctively took it, feeling the strength in his grip.

“Cam,” he said, as though I didn’t already know. He nodded toward the person beside him. “And this is Bobbi Mae, my roommate, business partner, and best friend.”

“Pleasure,” Bobbi Mae drawled, her voice warm and syrupy, with just a hint of steel underneath. She was holding a professional-looking camera in one hand and balanced a tripod against her hip. Her sharp features, dark eyes, and short-cropped hair had me doing a double take. For a split second, I thought she was a ridiculously attractive twink. Then the pieces clicked, and I realized she was an exceptionally handsome woman.

“Uh, hi,” I stammered, shaking Cam’s hand before stepping back to let them in.

Bobbi Mae didn’t wait for formalities, already scanning the room with a professional eye. “This the spot?” she asked.

“No, um, there’s a bedroom down the hall. Um, can I get you anything to drink?” I offered, my polite instincts kicking in despite the fact that my heart was about to pound out of my chest.

“Time’s money, sugar,” Bobbi Mae said, brushing past me with a smirk. “I’ve got another gig in Brooklyn in three hours, so let’s hurry this shit up.”

Cam chuckled, following her inside with a tall stand and what looked like some sort of pro lighting thingy. “Don’t mind her. She’s always in a rush,” he said, flashing me a grin that made my stomach flip.

I led them to Bradley’s old bedroom, feeling like a condemned man walking to the gallows. As soon as we stepped inside, Bobbi Mae’s eyes darted around the space, her expression unimpressed.

“Good thing we brought lights,” she muttered, setting her equipment down on the bed. “Natural light in here is trash.”

I hovered near the doorway, unsure of what to do with myself as she started unpacking the camera gear with swift efficiency. Meanwhile, Cam was already pulling his shirt over his head, revealing a body so sculpted it might as well have been chiseled from marble. He kicked off his shoes, then slid his jeans down, leaving him standing there in nothing but an olive-green jockstrap that left almost nothing to the imagination.

My breath caught, and I felt my face flush.

“You good?” Cam asked casually, catching me staring.

“Y-yeah,” I mumbled, fumbling with the buttons on my shirt. My fingers shook so badly it took twice as long as it should have to get it off.

As I worked on my shirt, Bobbi Mae glanced over at me. “Just so we’re clear,” she said, not looking up from adjusting her tripod, “this video’s going on both of your FantasyFans pages. Double exposure means more subscribers for everyone. That work for you?”

“Sure,” I croaked.

“Good,” she said briskly, then pointed a finger at Cam. “And don’t forget who’s the boss. You’re just the actor, remember?”

Cam laughed, throwing a wink her way. “Yes, ma’am.”

I managed a weak smile, but my nerves were rapidly unraveling. My mind spun, caught somewhere between the surrealness of the situation and my ever-present anxiety. I barely registered when Bobbi Mae turned her sharp gaze on me again.

“All right, let’s cut to it. You wanna top or bottom?”

The question hit me like a slap.

“I—uh—what?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I need to know what you two are doing so I can get the camera angles right. You topping or bottoming?”

My mouth went dry. The room felt unbearably hot. My brain scrambled for an answer, but all it conjured was a hazy memory of sophomore year, of the one time I’d gone that far with a guy I had a hopeless crush on. He’d ghosted me the next day.

Bobbi Mae snapped her fingers. “Hello? Earth to Liam. What’s the deal?”

I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe. This wasn’t about feelings or heartbreak or anything else. It was about survival, and making rent.

“Bottom,” I said finally, my voice barely audible.

“Great,” she said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Strip.”

I swallowed hard, peeled off the rest of my clothes, and stood there, feeling more exposed than I’d ever been in my life.

Cam stepped closer, resting a hand on my shoulder. “You nervous?”

“A little,” I admitted, forcing a smile I didn’t feel.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine,” he said warmly, then stepped back as Bobbi Mae pulled a small bottle out of her pocket and handed it to me.

“This’ll get your pecker hard,” she said, deadpan.

I stared at the blue pill in my palm, realization dawning. “I never thought I’d need this,” I muttered, swallowing it dry.

“Lay down,” she ordered, already adjusting the lights.

I obeyed, climbing onto the bed and lying flat on my back as Cam took his position beside me.

“You ready?” Bobbi Mae asked him, her voice sharp and professional.

Cam grinned. “Always.”

She flipped on the lights, the brightness searing against my skin.

“Action.”

Cam’s eyes met mine, and he leered at me. “Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” he muttered, and his huge hand splayed across my chest. “You’ve never been fucked before, have you? You’re a virgin, aren’t you Lucien?”

I was about to reply no, but realized we were acting, and me being a virgin might be the character they want me to be.

“Yes,” I breathed. “And I’m sick of it. Please, fuck me. Make a man out of me.”

Cam sat up, spread my legs apart and settled in between them. To my surprise, my cock hardened immediately. Then I remember the pill I’d taken, and I inwardly thanked Bobbi Mae for giving it to me. I wasn’t sure I could’ve gotten it up without it.

“I’m going to split you in two, boy.” Cam leaned over me, then his lips crashed into mine. Damn it, I hope the sound of our teeth clashing couldn’t be heard in the video. Shit, this was more than awkward, this was fucking bizarre. I’d swear Cam didn’t know how to kiss, either that or I didn’t. Probably the latter considering my lack of experience. He pressed his body down on mine, and his cock, much larger than any I’d ever seen or felt before, pressed against mine.

Holy shit. That was supposed to go inside of me?

“Boys, this is boring as hell. Come on, show a little passion!” Bobbi Mae barked.

Cam and I exchanged glances, both of us clearly thrown off by Bobbi Mae's comment. But we didn't have time to waste on awkwardness. Taking a deep breath, I decided to go all in.

"Fuck me, Cam," I whispered, trying to channel the passion Bobbi Mae was looking for. My words seemed to have the desired effect, as Cam's eyes darkened with hunger. With renewed determination, he positioned himself over me once more and pressed his cock against mine.

"You want it?" he growled, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. "You want me to fuck you senseless?"

"Yes!" I gasped, my heart pounding in my chest. "Fuck me, please."

“Don’t you dare say please again!” Bobbi Mae ordered. “No more polite boy, son. You want Cam to screw you into next week, now act like it!”

My cock was harder than it had ever been in my life, to the point where it was starting to hurt. Cam reached a hand down and squeezed my shaft, and a high-pitched whining noise came out of me.

“You little slut,” Cam growled. “You want my huge cock, you want it hammering your tiny hole.” He shifted on top of me, his weight pressing into my thighs as he adjusted his position. The heat of his body combined with the relentless ache of my now rock hard cock made my discomfort almost unbearable. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest, and the sting of humiliation crept up my neck. I tried to focus on anything else—the faded paint on the walls, the distant hum of traffic outside—but it was no use.

Bobbi Mae circled us like a hawk, her camera clicking and whirring as she barked adjustments. “Cam, lean forward. Liam, relax your shoulders. We’re not making a damn action movie; you’re supposed to look like you enjoy this.”

Relax? How was I supposed to relax? Every nerve in my body screamed to run, to throw Cam off me and bolt out of the room. But the thought of my bank account- a ticking time bomb—kept me pinned in place.

“Liam,” Cam whispered softly, breaking character for a moment. “You good? You’re kinda stiff.”

I groaned internally at the double entendre, unable to form an answer. Before I could even try, the bedroom door flew open with a crash, slamming into the wall so hard it left a dent.

“What the—” Cam started, twisting to look over his shoulder.

My stomach plummeted when I saw Jack standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock and fury. Next to him was a guy I’d never seen before, his expression shifting from confusion to something bordering on horror.

“What the hell is going on here?” Jack’s voice cut through the room like a knife.