Page 12 of Off Limits

“What?” I croaked.

Even with how shitty my father had been for the last six years, I’d stupidly believed he’d help me if he found out how dire my situation was. That he’d give a shit and let me sleep on his couch for a few weeks to keep me off the streets.

“The kids have so much going on right now, and Clarisse is in the middle of a really important project at work. Having you around right now would be too disruptive for everyone.”

“But Dad?—”

“I’m really sorry, Asa. It’s just not a good time.”

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat and sat up straight in my seat. “Okay. It’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”

“I’m sure you will.” There was a slight pause. “I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

“Sure,” I said, not bothering to hide the bitterness in my voice. “Later.”

“Bye.”

The phone went dead as he disconnected the call. I pulled the phone from my ear and checked the counter.

That entire call hadn’t even lasted two minutes.

Blinking back the tears I refused to let fall, I shoved my phone into my pocket and slammed the car in gear.

Fuck it. I didn’t need him or his help. He’d made it clear that his new family was more important than I’d ever be. It was time I started believing him when he told me exactly who he was.

I could actually feel the last shred of hope I’d clung to for so long severing as I pulled away from Zander’s house. I was donedeluding myself into believing that either of my parents would ever be there for me when I needed them. And I was never asking them for help ever again.

I’d figure things out myself, the same way I always did.

Fuck them. And fuck my fucking goddamn life.

4

DEX

“Yeah, that was a good one,”I said to my webcam, a satisfied smile on my face.

I scanned the flurry of comments in my chat. Most were people telling me how hot the show had been or demanding I show my feet.

“I’m not sure about selling content, Biglife,” I said, answering one of the few questions in the chat. That caused a bunch of people to ask why not and just as many to tell me exactly what kind of content they wanted me to make.

“I’ve got a lot going on right now,” I said, even though that wasn’t much of an answer. “I might get around to it when I have time, but for right now, I think these shows are about as much as I can handle.”

I’d only been camming for about three months, so my room was relatively empty now that I’d already come all over myself, which made it easier to actually chat with my audience.

I was still getting a handle on the whole camming thing and learning the ins and outs of the business side of it. I knew most models sold videos and photo sets on here for extra money,and had other platforms where people could buy content, but I hadn’t bothered with any of that.

I wasn’t planning on doing this for long, only until I had enough of a nest egg saved so I could drastically cut my work hours when I started school in the fall. I didn’t give a shit about people seeing my face on cam or any of the screenshots or recordings I knew were out there, but the thought of filming and selling jerk-off videos felt strange and made all of this seem too real.

It was stupid, but the fact that my shows were live and people tipped me in the moment made camming feel like a social thing. I chatted with my audience, they paid me, and I gave them what they wanted. It was transactional and personal, even though I was talking with faceless people on the internet.

Selling content was a way to make extra cash, but based on what I’d gleaned from other models in the industry, it wasn’t a great moneymaker if you weren’t a high earner with a large fan base. At best I’d make a few hundred bucks for a jerk-off video, but I made half that before I took my dick out while I was on cam, so it didn’t seem worth it for me.

“I’ll be back online on Saturday,” I said when I saw another question in the chat. “You can usually find me on here on Saturday and Wednesday starting at nine p.m. Eastern time.”

I scanned more comments, the last of the good feels from my orgasm fading away and leaving behind a weird sense of cold that seemed to come from deep within me—and not because I was naked.

This happened after every show. I had no clue why, but it was probably an adrenaline crash or something similar.

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