Page 27 of Just Between Us

Sexy and mysterious.

He was dangerous.

I stopped at the base of the stairs to the building and held out my hand. “Thank you for carrying my bag.”

Instead of handing it over, Royal simply slipped my hand into his. His thumb caressed the skin at the top of my hand, and a jolt of desire coursed through me. My eyes tracked the movements as he lifted and placed a kiss on the back of my hand.

His head dipped so our eyes could meet. “I’ll be seeing you.”

There it is—that mushy feeling again. Damn it.

EIGHT

ROYAL

A harsh glarefrom the ring light seared into my eyes. I blinked and pressed two fingers into my eye sockets. Exhaling, I clipped my phone into the holder and pushed aside the growing number of user comments that had been nagging me for days.

My foray into content creation for Pulse used to be a thrill. I enjoyed the fact that I could lean into my dominant side. Users came in droves to tune in for me to tell them what to do but also allowed me to be loving and supportive after I coaxed them into some of the best orgasms of their lives. I liked knowing there were people out there whose sex lives were improved because I helped them unlock the formula for their own pleasure.

It was a performance, and a part of that role was being the tattooed daddy with the big dick. I liked being a tease, making them want more, but lately I struggled to come up with any kind of engaging content ideas. Every concept I considered felt lackluster. My motivation was ...mehat best.

Something strange was going on with me.

Maybe I just needed to get hyped. I bounced on my toes and rolled my neck.

They’re all waiting for you. Let’s go, man.

My hand ran down the front of my black jeans, waiting for the inevitable thrill of recording to get me hard. I exhaled and glanced down at my cock.

Nothing.

What. The actual. Fuck.

I rubbed myself again.Focus. I just need to get my head in the game.

Chalking it up to stress, I unbuttoned and unzipped my pants. I slipped my hands beneath the waistband of my black boxer briefs and slid them down.

Cool air hit my hips, and I stared down in disbelief. My cock hung lifeless between my thighs. I jostled it once, hoping something—anything—would happen.

“What the fuck, dude?” I stared down at my flaccid penis, half expecting it to talk back. “You’re just sitting there like a bald guy in a turtleneck. Let’s go.”

A half-hearted twitch was all he could muster. Exasperated, I sighed and pulled my underwear and jeans up before flopping onto the couch with a frustrated groan.

This is what I paid for?

I think I fell asleep.

Who does this guy think he is? We came for more!

I used to love scrolling the comments on my videos. It felt great knowing I’d unlocked someone’s secret kink or given them the confidence to try something new with their partner. Recently I had been inundated with comments about how the shift in my content was lacking.

HowIwas lacking.

My jaw flexed. This was a hell of a lot easier before Veda sailed into my life. I had looked forward to posting content, wondering whether she had figured out I was secretly talking to her.

Veda andMsBlackCatwere the same person, so why was I suddenly having second thoughts about posting? What difference did it make?

I glanced at my lap. Clearly it counted forsomething, because the mere thought of anyone else having this piece of me felt oddly wrong.

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