Page 37 of Moon Blind Hearts
“And he’s making me take over as CEO for Ward Co.,” Albie adds. “The transition happens in a few weeks.”
I blink at the sudden moisture in my eyes. “But that’s the war company. The one you didn’t want. Albie, what about your art?”
Albie is an amazing artist, a beautiful painter and sculptor. I have one of his paintings I’d managed to purchase online from a gallery after being sad I couldn’t bring any with me when I left. It’s the first thing I hang up in every new apartment.
“He made me give it up,” Albie murmurs, his voice so soft, I almost miss it. “Threw away all my paint, burned the canvases. I came home one day to find it all gone.”
My chest squeezes. “Oh, Albie?—”
“It’s fine,” he interrupts. “It can all be replaced. It’s fine.” He repeats it like it’ll make him feel better, but I know that stuff meant everything to him. Years and years of work, of collecting supplies, gone. I hate it. I hate our father.
“You can always run away,” I whisper. “Come live with me and Genie.”
A rattling breath slips out of his lips and echoes down the phone line. “Maybe,” he says, but it lacks any sort of commitment. It would be dangerous for us to be together in some ways. If he found one, he’d find the other. But maybe we can actually do this. “Hey, baby sis. I gotta go. I’ll be late for a meeting.”
“I’m the older one, remember?” I toss back again, but it lacks the usual teasing banter.
“Yeah,” Albie replies. “I know.” He shuffles around on the other line. “Love you, Jules. Stay safe, and give Genie a big hug for me.”
The line goes dead, and I’m left staring at the echo of my twin brother’s voice on the burner phone.
Chapter 20
Jules
It’s only business. It’s only business. This is all just business.
I repeat those words over and over again as I stand in the media building in a long robe, watching as Oak moves around checking cameras. They’re all here today. Cash is at the computers, making sure that everything is set up for the live feed. There will be no edits today, so I’ll be wearing a half cat mask that leaves my mouth still accessible. Sawyer is sitting beside him, explaining how best to do the lighting despite his inability to see.
Beneath my robe, I’m wearing something sheer, just as Oak requested. It’s a piece of lingerie I’ve often worn, one of my favorites. I try not to think about the reason why I chose it, that it makes me feel confident, that it’s the set I know I look the best in. Sheer black mesh covers my breasts and stomach, but not much else. The bodysuit sports a tiny thong that’s easy to move aside and is stretchy so everything is easily accessed. I feel powerful, and confident, and like I’m losing my mind. I shouldn’t be trying to impress him. I shouldn’t be wanting to throw him off his game.
I shouldn’t be trying to prove to them or myself that it’s not quite just business like we keep reminding ourselves.
Fuck. Fuck.
“We’ll be ready in five minutes,” Oak says, interrupting my thoughts. “This is my landmark style scene, all about power play and body worship. If at any point you’re uneasy, you’ll have the ability to stop things, but keep in mind we’re live. So, if we pause, we tell the cameras we’re taking a short break.” His eyes flick to me where I’m standing with my arms crossed. “Not that you need to worry about that if you’re uncomfortable. We’ll handle all that. You just worry about removing yourself from the situation.”
“Very thoughtful,” I reply, looking away from him. “Where will you have me?”
“The bed,” he answers. “But to start, I’ll have you stand beside it and lift you into the bed. The subs like that.”
“They like watching you throw around your partner? Surprising,” I say sarcastically. Of course they like seeing him lift women and tossing them around. It’s hot. Especially when the men are built like Oak is. “I’m ready when you are.”
He nods toward my robe. “Feel free to take up position. We’ll start as soon as Cash has the chat feed up for us to read from.” He pauses. “Are you okay with bondage?”
I nod. “Whatever the scene needs. You know my limitations in the contract.”
“Okay.” He goes to turn away, but I reach for my robe and he pauses, though he makes it look like he’s only studying the set up rather than paying attention to me. When I open the robe and toss it away, he can’t help but flick his gaze over to me and then away, his hands clenching hard enough to pop his fingers.
Triumph fills me, but I quell it quickly. I shouldn’t want him to be unnerved by my outfit. I shouldn’t want him to be thrown off kilter by what I’m wearing. But fuck, do I. The large stoic man doesn’t give much away, but when he does, he’s intense, and I want that intensity directed at me.
I move over to the bed and stand, waiting, ready. I try my best to calm my racing heart, reminding myself that this is only business and that I’m being paid to be here. There are no emotions here. Not mine. Definitely not theirs. I shouldn’t imagine feelings where there are none.
“Thirty seconds,” Cash announces, and then his eyes land on me and hold. Unlike Oak, he doesn’t look away. He just watches, his eyes heated as he takes me in. When he holds up his hand to count down from five, he still doesn’t look away, and my body grows flush. Not as flush as it does when the cameras go live and Oak strides with slow purposeful steps into the frame before me. In his hands, he holds a length of silk rope.
“Good evening, Velvet Rodeo. Tonight, it’s all about giving me control. You know the drill. Show me what good girls and boys you are.”
The chat is immediately flooded with “Yes, Daddy” and “You can have whatever you want, Daddy” in front of us. I can’t help but smirk at the way he pulls their strings, at the half smirk he rewards them with.
