Page 17 of The Arrangement

There's a stretch of silence, just the mundane sounds of the shop, until I hear her laugh. It's a sound I haven't heard enough, light and genuine, cutting through the silence like a beam of light. It's beautiful, her laughter, drawing me in, holding me without effort.

I know I should shut it down, cut off this one-sided window into her world. But her laugh makes it impossible. It's a reminder of what's pulling me toward her, beyond debts or obligations. It's real, it's human, and it's utterly captivating.

Sitting there, lost in the sound of her laughter, I'm struck by the absurdity and the gravity of my situation. A man like me, finding something close to peace in the simple sound of a woman’s laughter through a hidden camera. It's a contradiction that would be laughable if it weren't so damn compelling.

So I watch, and I listen, caught between the role I play and the man I might be, if things were different.

Ty and Tory exchange a few more words at her desk before Ty bids her farewell for the night. She springs out of her seat, grabbing a bag and heading into the employee bathroom, disappearing from sight.

This is where I should turn off the recording. What else could I possibly expect to see?

But I keep watching, hitting the fast-forward button until she’s back in the frame. She’s wearing nothing but a long tee shirt and panties, her shapely legs on display. My cock is pulsing to life, growing harder by the second.

She climbs into bed and looks at her phone for a few minutes before tossing it aside and reaching into the bag next to her bed. She pulls out something long and purple and I can’t believe my eyes. A grin spreads across my face as I realize she’s about to pleasure herself. I watch as she slips out of her panties and places the vibrator against her clit.

It’s all I can take. Matching her urgency, I undo the buckle of my belt and pull my pants down enough for my cock to jump out. My eyes locked onto the screen, I take hold of my length and begin stroking, the pleasure instantaneous.

I turn up the volume on my computer, her soft moans pouring from the speakers. I don’t know what she’s using for inspiration, but whatever it is, she’s soon thrashing back and forth, moaning and writhing.

“Maksim…”

I pause, my cock still in my hand.

Did I hear that correctly?

I rewind the recording, playing it again. Sure enough, it’s my name she’s moaning as she brings herself to orgasm. I grin, knowing she’s as much on my mind as I am on hers.

In tandem, we pleasure ourselves. Soon her back is arching, my name coming from her mouth over and over as I bring myself to climax. With a hard grunt, I release at the same time she does. My eyes stay locked onto her body, my ears focused on her moans.

When I’m done, I clean myself off and close the laptop.

It should be enough. I’ve just come, which should quell my desire for the night.

But it doesn’t. I still want her, and only one thing will satisfy my yearnings.

After composing myself, I hurry downstairs, my footsteps echoing through the expanse of my home. I grab my keys, throw on my coat, and head out into the night.

Before the sun rises, Tory will be mine.

Chapter 10

Tory

Sleep is a no-go tonight. Every time I shut my eyes, there's Maksim, front and center in my mind, stirring up a whirlwind of feelings I'm still trying to wrap my head around. It's like my brain's only got one track, and it's all him, all the time.

The more I try to calm down, the more worked up I get, tossing and turning in the bed that's starting to feel way too big and empty.

As I try to find a comfortable position, my phone lights up, cutting through the frustrating cycle of thoughts with a message that makes my heart skip a beat. The text is from Maksim, short and to the point:

Let me in.

Frowning, I'm off the bed in a flash, curiosity mixed with a whole cocktail of emotions as I make my way to the front door. Through the glass, I see him, and it's like my entire body goes on high alert, reacting to his presence in a way that's both exhilarating and a little terrifying.

Standing just on the other side of the glass, he's this imposing figure that somehow, in the quiet of the night, feels like he belongs here. My pulse races, and I'm acutely aware of every little detail—the way the streetlight casts shadows across his face, the expectant look in his eyes, the way my own body seems to lean toward him, as if drawn by some invisible force.

The moment feels loaded with possibilities, and I'm suddenly hyper-aware of the decision I'm about to make. Opening that door isn't just about letting him into the shop; it's about letting him into my world, crossing a line that's going to change things between us, one way or another.

My hand hesitates on the lock, my mind racing.

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