Page 13 of The Way You Hurt Me

The thing is, the uneasy balance between us has reached status quo, and anything like that text would break it.

I'm not prepared for that specific storm to hit quit yet. It's inevitable, but I prefer to avoid it for a little while longer if I can.

I put my phone back in my pocket and head downstairs, trying not to think about the brat pouting in New York City, or the reason why she's not with us.

Me.

5

WILLOW

I'm restless all week, and it has very little to do with officially starting a job on Monday. Going home is always awkward for many reasons—even without counting Dimitri Volkov.

I have a strange relationship with my sister. She was more of a mother than a sister, really, despite the fact that there's only a four-year difference between us. She took over paying the bills in high school, making sure I did my homework and got some food, enough sleep, and my meds. Neither of our parents gave a shit.

When she got together with Cam, he immediately stepped up, not only as her man, but also as the provider. In our weird little family, he's my twenty-four-year-old Daddy. A very hot daddy I've drooled over more times than I can count. Not that I'd ever gothere, but yeah. It's awkward as fuck.

I try to be as independent as I can, but Morgan has always insisted that I prioritize school over any job. It was one of my motivations for rushing through college—I needed to make my own money.

That might be one of the reasons I createdRuby Red Heart.

Not themainreason, though.

The night of my eighteenth birthday, just when I planned on sending Dimitri the naughtiest picture yet, and a clear invitation, begging for his attention like a bitch in heat, Morgan casually mentioned she was attending his engagement party.

On my birthday.

I got smashed on cheap vodka and signed up to OnlyFans right there and then, loading the pic I was about to send him, though I at least had the sense to apply a few filters and cut off my head.

It got a fair bit of attention, made some money, and give or take a few hundred vids of inserting various toys and fingers into my orifices in front of the camera, the rest is history. I only started to bring guys into it over the last couple of months. The first was a friend who did it for a laugh—Alexander Burdon, a chess wiz from Cross and Roses. We stayed in touch through college, and he’s in the city, as he's attending NYU. Alex was never a stick-in-the-mud, and he shared plenty of his own embarrassing and incriminating misdemeanors, so I ended up fessing up to my dirty little hobby. When I confessed I’d considered bringing in some guys to up the ante but didn’t feel comfortable taking that step, he offered to help, so long as his face could remain hidden or blurred.

Honestly, up until that point, I thought he was gay, but it turned out he was bisexual.

I blew him in front of the camera, and we both laughed through it all. It wasn't super popular though, as Alex isn't all that well-endowed or muscular. So the next time I hired an escort. It was a lot more awkward for me, but hey, the viewers loved it. I blew him and he went down on me.

My audience is pushing for a full sex scene, but there's no way I'm losing my actual virginity on demand for an audience.Well, I took care of the whole hymen thing with toys ages ago, so it's notactualvirginity, but I still haven't had anyone's actualpenisinside me.I’d like the first time to be more than a pay-per-view favor.

I promised them a double blowjob next time. Maybe I should do that before heading out to Cali, and post it as a New Years Day's special. It'll let me let off some steam.

"Hey! How was work?"

I grimace, glancing up at one of my roommates. "My supervisor keeps calling me Wendy and I'm fairly certain he has no clue what I look like, as he keeps staring at my boobs."

"Fair. They're very good boobs."

I glance down to my tank top and shrug. I'm an E cup, so I can't deny that."It's December. I was wearing a cardigan; it's not like he cantell."

"Trust me, he could," says Lucy with a wistful sigh, pouting as she looks down her mostly-flat chest. "Girls with boobs never get it. We can feel your boobiness from a mile away."

"Well, you'dthinkhe'd care more about the fact that I managed to analyze all my files for the week in three days."

"Brainsandboobs. Keep going and he'll just have to learn your name someday."

"Let's not get ahead of yourself. I'm twenty; my boobs might grow bigger. Then they’ll keep trumping my brain.”

"True, true. There's no hope for you, Wendy."

"Where's Anne?"

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