Mia
“And what exactly would you do if you were here with me right now?”
The gray-haired man on the screen chuckles, deep and gravelly. “Oh, darlin’, I’d make you feel so good.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask. “How? Tell me exactly how you’d do it.”
“And you’ll touch yourself for me while I do?” he asks, a small tremble in his voice giving away his nerves.
“If you want me to,” I reply. I’m lying on the blue, crushed-velvet couch, the one in the basement of my parents’ lake cabin. It’s not actually comfortable, but it’s great for the camera angle, and the color contrasts perfectly against my light skin. My long silvery blonde hair is fanned out around me, and I’m in nothing but the black lace panty set this particular client likes most. He’s offered to buy me an entire closet full, but I turn him down every time. I don’t like taking gifts from patrons because then it feels like I owe them something in return.
ChiefG1963, who told me his real name is Gregg, clears his throat. He’s nervous. He always gets timid around this part, but I know this is what he likes. He has a flair for dirty talk, and he’d rather spell it all out for me than have me tell him what I like, because every time I’ve tried in the past, he cuts me off.
“Well, I’d start by licking those perfect pink nipples you got there, baby girl.”
“These?” I ask, slipping the edges of my bra down to give him a good view of my full breasts.
“Oh yeah.” He growls. “Then, I’d—’ There’s a knock on the door of his office, and I hear a man in the background. Gregg looks up at whoever it is. I wait, slipping my bra back over my breasts, so whoever just walked into Gregg’s office doesn’t get a show he didn’t pay for.
Gregg turns back toward me with an apologetic expression. “Baby girl, we have to cut it short today.”
I pout for the screen. “But we were just getting to the good part.”
“I know, but I’ve got investors to tend to, and money doesn’t wait, sweetheart.”
Trying to look as reluctant as possible, I sit up and stare down at the camera of my laptop. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he replies. “That beautiful smile is the highlight of my day.”
For that comment, I reward him with a bright one, full dimples and a lip bite, because, sadly, I know he’s being honest. Gregg is one of my regulars, and he may be loaded, but I can tell by the way he spends the majority of our time on these chats, telling me about his day and his work, that I’m probably the only person in his life who actually listens.
We always spend the first half of the hour chatting and he tells me all the places he wishes he could take me or all the things he would do with me. And I give him my complete attention. Then we normally get to the sexy stuff, if work doesn’t get in the way.
And that’s how most of my clients are—equal parts genuine conversation and erotic amusement. They’re mostly all starved for attention, desperate for connection, and craving something a little dirty.
I’ve honed my actual skills from being provocative on screen to just sounding like I care.
Okay, that sounded heartless. I do sort of care. Or rather, I get paid to care.
After I hang up with Gregg, I consider turning my cam back on to try and find another VIP request in the livestream chats, but I somehow let the next hour go by surfing Tumblr on my phone.
My dad and stepmom are currently out on the boat with their friends, so I’m left alone in the house, which makes it easy for me to work.
We come up to the lake every summer, and even though I’m twenty-three, plenty old enough to get my own place, I enjoy coming up here each year. I realize I’m probably supposed to be partying in Cancun or Vegas with other twenty-something-year-olds, but that’s really not my style. I’m really more of a comfortable-where-I-am kind of girl.
My parents live like they’re already empty nesters, regardless of the fact that I haven’t exactly left the nest yet. It just means they’re gone a lot, don’t worry about me, and give me all the privacy and Wi-Fi service I need.
The camgirl thing is a fairly new gig. I stumbled upon it last fall when a friend of mine from cosmetology school—which I recently dropped out of—told me about the money she was making, without even having to leave the house. I’m a people person, and being a tease was always my strong suit, so I figured it would be perfect for me.
It was awkward at first, flirting with strange men, especially since I used to be so self-conscious about my body. I always thought this sort of thing was for super fit, toned girls who had the confidence to strut around in string bikinis. But there’s no thigh gap between these legs, and my tits might be full and squishy, but so is my ass.
Then, I quickly learned, some guys like it that way. Some of them really like it that way.
Soon, getting naked for men—doing stuff to myself for them—made me a little more confident in the shape of my body. It’s funny to think about my first session, when I was so nervous I could barely show the tiniest glimpse of pussy, and now I’m perfectly comfortable spreading it for the camera.
Sure, I get the big tips that way. But I also really fucking love the way it feels, even though I cannot explain why.
Now, this is my job. I flirt, do a little strip tease, touch myself, and on a good day, I might actually get an orgasm out of it. Then I get paid. I mean…who could complain?
After tossing on something more decent than the black lingerie I had on, I head upstairs. I’m halfway through making an iced coffee in the kitchen, with my five-year-old black cat, Betty, weaving around my legs, when my phone rings. Glancing down, I see my stepbrother’s name on the incoming video call, and I freeze.
Why the hell is Garrett trying to video call me?
Out of pure curiosity, I answer, propping my phone up against the backsplash, so he can see me while I continue putting together my caramel caffeine concoction.
“Don’t hang up,” he says as soon as it connects.
“Okay…” Glancing down at the phone, I see that he’s shirtless and sweating, his cheeks red and his hair wet. A white towel hangs around his neck, but I force myself to look away. “What’s up?” I ask, trying to remain cordial, even though Garrett has literally never been nice to me in my entire life. Why would he when he could torture me instead?
My dad couldn’t have married someone with a nice son. Preferably an ugly one, too. Why did my luck just happen to land me with a stepbrother who is the complete opposite of those two things?
“How’s your dad?”
Well, that question throws me off. He knows my dad has been battling cancer for two years now, but it’s never inspired him to reach out or even come over, so why now?
“Umm…the same, I guess.”
“What are you drinking?” he asks, suddenly changing the subject.
“An iced coffee,” I reply with my lips around the metal straw.
“I’m not sure you need more energy.”
“Did you call me just to judge my lifestyle?” I bite back.
I pick up my phone and carry it, facing me, up to the third-floor balcony. The sun is about to set, and it’s breathtaking from here. Something I refuse to miss each evening. Sometimes I even bring my cam out here and let my viewers watch me prop my feet up on the balcony and sip my coffee while the sun sets over the lake. It’s usually when the creepers drop into my inbox to tell me they want to slap my tits or bend me over the railing or something else super vulgar, but I ignore them. No one ruins this moment for me.
Setting my phone up against the planter on my patio table, I let my stepbrother watch me instead. The only difference here is that I can see him, and as I glance over, I notice that he has his phone propped up too and is currently stretching, giving me a full-screen view of his long, lean muscles, under perfect sun-kissed skin, with a trail of dark body hair leading down his chiseled abs, disappearing into his shorts—
“Are you listening to me?”
“Yes,” I lie.
“Then what did I just say?”
“Something about…running another marathon or something?”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I asked how your summer is going at the lake with Mom and Dad.”
“Boring,” I reply.
“Aren’t you a little old to be spending your summers with our parents?” he argues casually.
“Don’t be jealous because I work from my computer and can spend my summers here for free. Besides, they’re never around anyway. They’re either at the casino or on the boat with their friends or doing God knows what else.”
“Still doing data entry?” he asks in a teasing tone.
“Yep,” I reply. Clearly, I don’t go around advertising the fact that I make my money flashing my goods to men on the internet. There’s a whole lot of stigma attached to it.
Not to mention, Garrett would give me endless shit for it. If he found out, he would use it as ammunition to belittle me. It’s hard enough being a sex worker without my ass of a stepbrother making me feel like shit for it.
But I do wonder how he’d react. If anything, Garrett is the only person I wish I could tell about my job. Because if I did, he might actually start looking at me as a woman rather than a bratty little sister. Not that a rich, fit, and gorgeous guy like my stepbrother would ever go for someone like me, but I almost wish he’d see what I do on camera. The very thought of Garrett watching me spread my legs in front of my phone screen has me blushing. That would change his perception of me for sure.
I only hope he’d be more turned on than disgusted.
“So, are you coming?” I ask casually. Did that sound too needy? I glance over to the screen to see his reaction, but he’s still stretching.
“We just opened the club three months ago. I can’t take a week off already to come up to the lake.”
“So come up for a weekend. It’s only a couple hours.”
“Why do you want me to come up there so badly? I thought you hated it when I was there. Don’t you like having that lake house to yourself while they’re gone?”
Garrett and I have never really gotten along. We’re both competitive, have a cynical sense of humor, and take almost nothing seriously. It doesn’t help that our parents got married when I was eight and he was twenty-one, and the only thing I could do to get his attention was to get on his nerves.
He used to come to the lake with us every summer, but then one summer, about ten years ago…he just stopped. I can only assume it was because of me.
“Whatever. I don’t care,” I snap with a little too much sass.
“Damn. What crawled up your ass?”
“I was just asking. Come or don’t come. It doesn’t matter to me. I just thought you’d like to see Dad before it gets worse.”
“Oh really? This is about Dad? Because a second ago, it sounded like you just wanted to see me.”
“I don’t,” I reply stubbornly.
“Are you sure? Because hitting on your stepbrother is a little desperate. Is it that hard to find guys who will date you?” There’s a playful smirk on his face, the same one I hate because he uses it to drive me crazy.
“I’m going to hang up on you. Why are you such a jerk?”
He laughs. “I like how worked up it gets you. That’s what big brothers do.”
Hiding the way that phrase triggers not-so-deeply hidden feelings, I quickly look away from him. Garrett is not my big brother. He’s never been my big brother, but he’s put on this whole brother act since our parents got married, as if reminding himself and me that, blood or not, we are related.
So I bite my tongue because I can’t say what I really want to. I can’t tell him that I really do want him to come up here and spend time with me. I can’t say how I really feel about him because everything is a joke to Garrett. I am a joke to him. And if he ever knew how I really felt, he would never let me live down the day I admitted that I am ridiculously in love with him.
So I cover it up with sarcasm and superficial hate.
“Bye, Garrett,” I mutter before hitting End Call.
But I don’t get up right away. Even after the sun has disappeared behind the trees, I sit here and let this feeling of loneliness settle in. I’m really no better than any of my clients.
I’ll get over him someday. I have to. Because at the end of the day, Garrett sees me as his little sister, while I see him as the love of my life.
