My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I dropped my chopsticks, then my unopened container of noodles hit the counter so I could reach for the device, wondering if it was Sydney again.

“Jesus, Dash.” Jamie laughed.

Jamie always called me Dash.

I ignored him and stared at the screen:

Be here in twenty. I have someone requesting you.

“Fuck,” I whispered, shoving my phone away and digging out my keys.

I wasn’t angry about the text. I needed that fucking text, and that’s where my anger stemmed from. My dependence on it. I couldn’t say no.

This was my life. My fucked-up life. And the only person I could hate for it was myself.

I glanced up. Jamie and Cole both gave me a look, the look, full of sympathy and a hint of sadness, because they knew what I was about to do and felt sorry for me, given the reason behind why I was doing it.

They were the only two people who knew about my other source of income.

No, not income. Income was something you acquired and kept. I’ve never banked a dime of this money and I never would.

I rounded the counter.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. When that order arrives, make sure it’s right before you let them leave. It was a pain in the ass last time getting them to ship out the correct shit ’cause of their own fuckup.”

They both mumbled something. Yeah, or you got it. The chime overpowered whatever they said and I didn’t care enough to turn back.

I slipped out the door and climbed into my Jeep, sending Mike a brief reply so he’d know I was coming before grabbing the bottle of pills in my glove compartment.

I popped the lid.

A laugh threatened in my throat as I held the tiny blue tablet in my hand.

How many times had I gotten hard today? I should’ve kept a tally.

I didn’t have difficulty getting aroused at the thought of Sydney, at the memory of her voice, or the very idea of what she could possibly look like.

Dark hair and green eyes, I had decided. She was mysterious and a little shy.

I knew if I thought of her now, I could not only get an erection, but sustain one. I wouldn’t need a drug to get through this. If I closed my eyes and pictured her, what I imagined she would feel like, sound like, the sweetness of her skin, I might even enjoy the next hour.

Shitty move, though. It felt wrong even contemplating that option.

Sex was nothing more than a mindless release to me these days. A necessary transaction.

I stopped looking at it as recreational three months ago. I no longer fucked because I wanted to. The women I slept with didn’t care about me. None of them even got me hard without a fucking prescription.

What happened last night with Sydney …that was different.

Exhilarating.

Real.

I wouldn’t associate that with this. I wouldn’t use my body’s reaction to her on someone else. They didn’t fucking earn it. She did.

I placed the pill on my tongue and tipped my head back, swallowing it down with a bit of saliva.

Then I drove.

The studio was just off the highway, a mere fifteen minutes from the beach and in the seediest part of town. I parked along the back of the building. My usual location. I wasn’t typically paranoid, but if I got messages to come out here in the daylight, I didn’t want to risk anyone recognizing my Jeep.

I opened the side door and stepped inside the building.

I was told this place was originally an abandoned warehouse. Mike, the owner of Xstasy, acquired the space a year ago and stripped it, putting up makeshift walls to separate different areas, depending on the type of shoot.

It smelled like mildew and regrets. I hated everything about it.

“Dash.”

Mike waved me over to the far corner where he stood next to one of the camera guys.

I passed a room where two chicks were moving their hands tentatively over each other. The start of a scene. A man stood behind them, stroking his cock as he watched the blonde dip her head between the legs of the other and eat her out.

The camera zoomed in.

I used to watch porn, and a scene like this would’ve had me vigorously working my dick in the past. There’s not many guys who aren’t into seeing two beautiful women together, but now when I see something like this or hear their sounds as I walk across the dark concrete, it does nothing for me.

Doesn’t even warrant a twitch.

I reached Mike in quick strides, tipping my chin at the middleaged creep.

“Hey.”

He slapped my shoulder, smiling. I hid my disgust behind a smirk.

“Good. You made it in less than twenty. I got over three thousand active on the site right now and I need you ready. I want your best stuff.”

“This is streaming live?” I asked.

I hadn’t done that yet. Everything I shot was put up on the site later, usually the next day.

He gave me a hard look.

“That a problem?”

I shook my head.

It wasn’t. I didn’t see much of a difference if this shit went viral now or in two weeks. As long as I got cash out of it, I wasn’t going to protest.

He tipped his head, then smiled as a young woman came to stand next to me.

She was tiny in all areas but one, which by the looks of it cost her a couple grand. Her dark hair was braided into two sections falling past her shoulders, making her look young and innocent, and if that didn’t give away the theme of the shoot, her Catholic school uniform nailed it.

Mike brushed his finger along her cheek.

“Dash, meet Jayden. She’s been anxiously awaiting your arrival. Isn’t that right, sweetness?”




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