Page 3 of Caught Up

Ryan turned even redder. Tormenting them was as easy as it was enjoyable.

I opened my mouth to see if I could make them flush all the way to their toes, but their door burst open behind us, and we turned, blinking against the sudden brightness as our third roommate, Taylor, swept into the room. At first, all I saw was her outline, but as my eyes adjusted, I noted her lavender hair swaying around her shoulders and the floral silk robe tied loosely around her curves. She wore a full face of makeup, her skin highlighted and bronzed, her almond eyes framed with false lashes, telling me she was either getting ready to film, or had just finished.

She stopped a few feet away and hefted a small box in each hand, looking from me to Ryan and back again. “A sub just sent me a video request for aclose-upof my asshole.” Her grin turned taunting. “Who wants to help me bleach and wax it?”

I swiveled to Ryan, who already held their finger to their nose in anot itgesture.

“I’m out,” they said. “I’ll have to stare at it the whole time I’m filming and editing. I shouldn’t have to prep it, too.”

My shoulders slumped in exaggerated defeat as I turned back to Taylor. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

She shimmied her shoulders, looking pleased. Her subscriber must have offered her a ton of money for the shot. She and I might have made a living filming spicy videos for our subs, but we both felt thatclose-upswere much more intimate and required a level of vulnerability that we weren’t usually comfortable with.

Her gaze slid past me to Ryan’s computer screen. “Is that the shot Ryan ruined when they burned dinner last night?”

Ryan swiveled back toward their monitor, cheeks still pink. “I didn’t ruin it. Lauren was able to finish filming.”

Taylor and I shared a smirking glance. As part of chore rotation, we took turns cooking. Some nights that meant mac ’n’ cheese with hot dogs cut up in it (Taylor), traditional Italian fare (me), and increasingly elaborate dishes from across the globe that were either incredible or ended up splattered all over our kitchen (Ryan). In Ryan’s defense, at least they were trying to expand their culinary skills. And theyhadgotten better recently. It was only when they attempted some complicated new recipe, like last night, that our house filled with smoke.

“You owe me a new saucepan,” I said. “I think tandoori paste is burned into the metal of the one you used last night.”

Ryan bristled. “Keep making fun of me, and I’ll show Taylor the video I cut together of you falling and unfalling over and over again.”

I sucked in a horrified gasp. “You didn’t.”

With a click, Ryan pulled up another tab in their editing software, and there I went, tumbling off the bed inslo-mo. And then back onto it. Off again. On. These were deeply unflattering angles for my boobs, which seemed to be trying to flee from each other in opposite directions. My hair looked electrified, and the horror on my face made it clear I thought I was about to be serial murdered.

“I might never recover from seeing myself like this,” I said.

Ryan cackled. Beside me, Taylor was laughing so hard that she’d stopped making noise. My revenge for this betrayal would make headline news.

It took five solid minutes and increasingly violent threats of bodily harm for Ryan to close out the tab and promise to delete it.

Another several passed before Taylor was able to speak. “Who’s the video even for?”

“My favorite sub,” I told her.

She glanced my way, wiping tears from her eyes. “NT95?”

I nodded. Even though I’d been doing this for years, I still got nervous filming certain video requests, especially ones with large price tags attached to them. I wanted them to be perfect. Wanted my subs desperate for more. And NT95 was aday-onesubscriber, my very first, in fact, signing up almost as soon as I announced my Me4U page on social media. We’d spent countless hours sexting. I knew about his horrible father and the constant pressure he was under at work. He sent me congratulatory notes every time I won a new politician over, asked me to please be safe when I attended public rallies. He wasn’t just some faceless sub anymore. He was important to me. Hence me hovering over Ryan’s shoulder instead of leaving them alone to work in peace.

“What did he request?” Taylor asked.

“A striptease followed by solo work,” I told her. “Creator’s choice.”

She shot me a sly glance. “Think he’d like Ryan’s special edit?”

“I will murder you for putting that idea into their head.”

Ryan snorted but remained suspiciously quiet as they finished cutting the scene together. I would have to watch them closely in the coming days. Once that was finished, they started color correcting the raw footage. The three of us had the perfect setup. Taylor and I were theon-screentalent, and Ryan was our background magician, editing our videos and even stepping in to help film complicated shots like the one I’d agreed to prep Taylor for.

“God,” she said. “The lighting in your room is so nice during sunset.”

I was about to respond when a snuffling noise caught my attention. Taylor and I turned toward the door just in time to watch Walter, our massive Shiloh shepherd, wiggle his way into the room looking pleased with himself, his ears back, eyes slitted in doggy bliss. He carried what I first thought was a chew toy in his mouth but on closer inspection looked a lot like—

“My favorite whip!” I yelled, launching myself at him. Shit, he was going to ruin it.

He woofed and danced away, head down, ready to play.

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