Page 73 of Sin With Me

I fucking knew it.

“What the fuck?” he mutters, his hands flexing on his thighs. Eve laughs again and I can just picture her head tilted back, her golden curls bouncing with the force of her happiness. “Oh my God.”

Chase bolts up and I let the phone clatter to the couch in his absence. He runs his fingers through his hair and shoots me a look of abject horror before glancing down at the phone. Eve’s laugh has now switched to moans, and I nearly pass out.

“I fucked—” Chase starts to say, but his words quickly turn into a gagging fit. Unable to move or speak, I watch him disintegrate. “I fucked myself to—” He gags again, this time harder, causing him to double over. “I fucked myself to Eve.” He splutters, saliva dripping from his mouth before he shoots up, sending wild eyes my way. “She’s like my sister!”

He pivots, stumbling three steps before vomiting profusely into the massive ceramic vase of a tall houseplant by the front door. He heaves and heaves, crying incoherent words. Even from the couch, I can see his body shaking.

Just then, Kon reaches us, his eyes as wild and panicked as Chase’s. “What the fuck is going on?” he bellows, his Russian accent thick with his anxiety.

“I fucked my sister!” Chase cries again, and finally, I summon the strength to roll my eyes. “A lot!”

Kon blinks at me, then Chase. “Uh—” He clears his throat. “What?”

Chase shoots an accusing finger at the phone. “Turn that shit off. I can’t bear to—” He gags and wretches. “I can’t hear it again.” He shakes his head. “Never again.”

Kon looks down at the phone on the couch. His eyes widen and he takes a step forward, cocking his head to the side, dragging my attention with it. It’s then that I see Eve wildly fucking herself on a dildo with her fingers lodged deep in her ass, her frantic, begging moans filling the air.

“Please, let me come, Daddy. Please.”

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

I snatch the phone up seconds before my friend reaches it, and turn the video off. I barely resist the urge to punch him until this entire thing fades from his memory. Without a word, I practically sprint down the hall to my room, Chase’s phone tucked in my clenched fist, Eve’s cries of pleasure still echoing around my brain.

My bedroom door slams behind me and I lean against it, breathing deeply. My eyes squeeze shut, but the second they close, all I see is her.

My fist collides with the harsh wood behind me, rattling it against the hinges. An inhuman roar flies from my lips as I double over, panting heavily.

What the fuck is she thinking? Why would she do this? Does she need money that badly?

The inane barrage of questions fill my mind on a continuous loop, but one question is louder than the rest. Where the fuck is Isaac and why isn’t he taking care of her?

I drop down on my bed with a heavy exhale. If I was home, I’d never fucking let her pull this shit. She’d never have to resort to getting naked and fucking herself in front of the world for money. And it is about money.

I know her well enough to know there is no other reason for why she’d do this. There is no other possible explanation. It just doesn’t make any sense.

Even when I lived with my father and Jane, we’d struggled. Being a small-town preacher doesn’t pay shit, but they’d had the life insurance money from Grant after he passed. Not to mention all the money that comes in from donations. Most of it’s supposed to go back into the church fund, but it’s also meant to pay Isaac a salary.

The home is paid for through the church. The town pitches in with meals at least a few times a week for no other reason than to just contribute. It’s how small towns are, especially Divinity Falls.

Why would she need to cam?

Is Isaac pimping her out?

Have things really gotten that bad?

And why do I care so fucking much?

Without conscious thought, I’m scrolling through her profile again. This time, with a keener eye, as though the closer I inspect, the more answers I might find. Or maybe I’m just looking for undeniable proof that this truly is Eve.

Even though I already know it is.

I’m four videos in when my opposite hand finds the button on my jeans and two videos later, my heavy, aching cock is in my palm.

I angrily clutch the burning flesh, my jaw tight with rage at the entire situation. I don’t want this. I don’t want to watch her touch her perfect body—a body that’s changed so fucking much since I left. I don’t want to stare at her gorgeous, heaving tits as she bounces on yet another dildo, or fucks her ass with her pretty little fingers. I don’t want to jerk my leaking cock to the sounds of her heady, melodic moans filling my room.

But I do.

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