Page 68 of Taken Off Camera
“I didn’t say yes because you’re a Rockford. I said yes despite it.” The memory of those first messages floods back, his careful words, his genuine interest in me beyond what I displayed on camera.
How fast we had moved from transactional conversations to real connection that closed the physical distance between us.
Sebastian’s jaw clenches. “What do you mean, despite it?”
“Rich clients are often the worst.” I turn away from him, pacing the length of his desk, the monitors casting shifting shadows across the floor as I move. “They think money buys compliance. That they can pay enough to own someone.”
“And you thought I’d be like that?”
“I didn’t know what to think.” The cool air from a nearby vent raises goose bumps on my arms. “That’s why I research everyone who requests a private session. After what happened before…”
The skin around Sebastian’s eyes tightens with concern. “What happened?”
“Saint and I were raised in a group home together. They didn’t separate us by designation, and our House Manager had an eye for the young Omegas. Saint stopped him before anything too bad happened,” I rush to reassure Sebastian when his breath quickens. “We got out, and I set up fake IDs for us to get jobs and rent our own place.”
I leave out how Saint did time in juvenile detention while I was getting our lives sorted. That’s not my story to share.
“The apartment was a complete dump, but it was what we could afford.” A laugh escapes me when I think of it. “I started camming to bring in money, and Saint got a job as a bouncer at a local bar. Then our old House Manager tracked me down.”
A shudder goes through me. “He showed up at our door with a collar, convinced he had a right to own me.”
Sebastian sucks in a sharp breath. “What did you do?”
“Nothing. Saint handled everything. Put the guy in the hospital and exposed what he’d been doing at the group home. Bastard’s still in jail.” Grimsatisfaction fills me. The bastard will never again hurt a child in his care. “Afterward, we moved and set up protocols. Different name. PO Box. VPN. Background checks on anyone who gets too personal.”
Sebastian moves to his chair, sinking into the leather with a soft creak. The blue light from the monitors hollows out his cheeks, deepening the shadows under his eyes. “So my name, my family…”
“It meant you could be verified.” I shrug, trying to be casual despite the pounding of my heart. “Nothing more sinister than that.”
“You should have told me.” His fingers drum on the arm of his chair. “About the background check.”
A laugh bubbles up. “And say what? ‘Hey, I stalked you online before our first session, hope that’s cool?’ It’s not like you admitted to figuring out where I lived until you were forced to show your hand.”
His lips twitch. “Fair point.”
“We all protect ourselves, Sebastian.” I gesture to the wall of surveillance feeds. “You, with your cameras and security. Me, with my background checks and fake names.”
Sebastian studies my face, searching for deception. “Then why? Why let me in at all?”
“Because you were kind,” I say. “Because youlistened. Because you made me laugh. The name didn’t matter.”
“But the money did.”
I huff out a breath. “Sebastian, you were literally paying for my time. Of course, it mattered in the beginning. But only insofar as it proved you could afford private sessions, the same as anyone else who requested solo time. If the fact that you paid me is going to be an issue going forward, then we’re done here.”
“No.” Sebastian lurches forward in his chair to catch my arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I’ve just… It wouldn’t be the first time someone has used me for my family name.”
I reach out to touch his chest. “I understand being used. But even if you were a regular office worker, I still would have accepted your request. You were kind, and you didn’t treat me like some dildo-bouncing twink.”
His fingers dig into the armrest. “Who called you that?”
“Oh, honey.” I step between his spread knees. “Don’t you read the comments on my live shows? So many people call me that and worse.”
“They shouldn’t.” He cups my waist. “You provide companionship to stave off loneliness.”
“And that’s why Ilovemy job.” I let my hand come to rest on his arm. “I don’t let the assholes ruin the service I provide for those who need it.”
“So, you tracked Travis because he was one of those assholes?” he asks.
