Chapter 21

Amelia

The chatter of relatives and clinking glasses fades as I escape to the balcony of my parent’s house, leaning against the railing with a sigh. My fingers twitch for the phone in my purse, yearning for the thrill of the connection I felt when streaming to my OnlyFans audience. They knew the real me, the one without filters or fears. Now, that outlet is just a memory, another closed chapter.

"Princess, you okay?" Riley's voice breaks through the night air. I don't have to turn around to know he's watching me with those intense blue eyes that seem to see right through me.

"Fine," I lie, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Just needed some fresh air."

"Miss your channel, huh?" he asks, stepping beside me.

Last week I clicked the 'Deactivate' button, and it's like I've unplugged myself from a world that once thrived on my every curve and whispered secret. No more dark green wigs and the alter ego who danced beneath its strands. My bank account won't be gasping for air anymore, now that the Chicago Blades gave me a promotion to be their equipment manager, but damn, there's an ache where the thrill of being my uncensored self used to pulse.

"Is it that obvious?" I chuckle weakly, my heart aching a little for the lost part of myself.

"Only to someone who pays attention," Riley says, nudging my shoulder gently. "I never got the chance to tell you that I used to be obsessed with your channel before I even knew it was you."

“What?” I say, my mouth gaping open.

“Yeah, and you put out the best content out there. That morning after we had fun,” he winks, “on your couch, when I went to your bathroom, I saw the green wig through your cracked door.”

“Dear Lord, Riley,” I gasp and cover my mouth, not knowing whether to be happy or mad at his admission.

“Yeah, like I said, obsessed. I was probably one of your biggest fans,” Riley admits.

I manage a smile, grateful for his support. "Thanks, Riley. That means a lot."

Laughter spills from inside the house, and we both glance back through the French doors. My brother, usually the life of the party, stands with a beer in hand, sharing a joke with some cousins. His gaze shifts to us, and I hold my breath, ready for the rivalry to spark. But tonight, something’s different. There's no scowl, no biting remark—just a nod of acknowledgment before he turns away.

"Look at that," I murmur, more to myself than Riley. "He didn’t even start a brawl."

"Guess miracles do happen," Riley quips, and we laugh.

"New beginnings all around, then?" I offer tentatively, daring to hope.

"Seems like it." His hand finds mine.

This is the validation I’ve been craving—the kind that doesn’t require a screen or subscription.

"Want to make a quick escape?" he suggests.

"Lead the way," I accept the challenge.

We sneak up the stairs of my childhood home. The excitement at the chance of being caught, loving to be doing this with Riley.

My old bedroom door creaks open, revealing the pastel walls and band posters of my teenage life. Riley steps in behind me, his big body filling the small space.

"Here?" he murmurs, closing the gap between us.

"Here," I confirm, my voice a whisper.

His hands find my waist, pulling me close as his lips capture mine. It's a kiss that speaks of reconciliation and longing, hot and urgent. Our bodies press together, every touch reigniting our flame.

My clothes are shed, and I toss off the pink floral comforter from my youth. There's something thrilling about sneaking off, of doing something so illicit when the house is full of guests.

"I've wanted you all night," he growls, pulling his cock out of his pants. It stands tall against his abdomen, glistening with pre-cum. He watches as I lean in closer, my mouth watering at the sight of it.

"Can I suck your cock?" I ask and kneel before him.

“Princess, you never have to ask that.” He leans forward towards my mouth.

My tongue darts out, swiping across the tiny bead of precum at the tip before taking him fully into my mouth. His hips jerk forward as I begin bobbing my head up and down his shaft. My hands find their way to his waistband, tugging down his pants and boxers to free his cock completely.

Riley groans loudly, throwing his head back against the wall. He grabs handfuls of my hair, guiding me as I take him deeper into my throat with each stroke. His taste is intoxicating.

As I suck harder, Riley's hips buck against me in response. "You like that?" he asks gruffly between pants.

I nod vigorously around his cock, trying to catch my breath as he continues to thrust in and out of my mouth until he’s pulling away from me completely.

He gently guides me up and onto my bed to lay on my back.

“I want to feel your tight pussy squeeze my cock,” he says while rolling on a condom.

“Yes, please,” I plead.

Riley moves between my legs, positioning himself at my entrance, his hands running up and down my thighs. I feel his hardness pressing against my opening, begging to be let in. I gasp and arch my back as he finally pushes inside, filling me up in one smooth motion. My walls clench around him, eager for more, and he groans.

The sensation is surreal - this man I care so much about, fucking me like we're teenagers again. It hits me all at once: the feeling of his thick cock stretching me out. His hips start to move instinctively.

"Fuck," Riley pants between grunts of pleasure as he picks up speed inside me. "You feel so good."

I wrap my legs around his waist to meet each thrust right where I need him to hit, moaning in response. My nails dig into his shoulders lightly as he thrusts deeper; it's almost too much but somehow not enough when combined with those rough hands on me elsewhere.

The bed squeaks under the force of our movements. Every time he pulls out slightly only to plunge back in again is like a bolt of electricity shooting straight to my core. It’s an exquisite sense of pleasure that leaves me breathless every time.

"Amelia," Riley growls lowly into my ear before capturing the lobe between his teeth. This is a new level of heightened arousal. In my childhood bedroom with everyone downstairs oblivious to what's happening above them. Except, maybe not entirely because someone might still hear us making all this noise. The thought makes me even wetter.

As we reach together towards our peaks, our eyes lock onto one another’s, and something clicks into place between us.

“Fuck, yes! Riley!” I scream his name, as he follows me over the edge of bliss.

We shuffle around on the small bed to catch our breath, and Riley's chest rises and falls against my back, his breath hot on my neck. I'm still catching mine, the flush on my skin not just from what we've just shared.

"Princess," he starts, and there's a lilt to his voice that catches my attention. "You know, this..." He gestures vaguely to the room, to us, "with the high of being possibly caught, it's got me thinking."

I roll over to face him, curious, despite the lingering glow of our intimacy. His blue eyes are alight with something daring.

"Spit it out, Watson," I say, my voice still breathy.

"Imagine," he says, shifting closer so our noses almost touch, "an OnlyFans channel where it's all about the risk. Where every encounter is a near miss. Like this." His thumb brushes my lower lip. "It's real, it's raw, and let's be honest—people would eat it up."

My heart skips. The thought is terrifying as much as it's exhilarating. To channel that freedom again, the one I thought I'd lost along with my old life. But this time, it's different. This time, it's Riley by my side, blurring the lines between my two worlds.

"Riley, that's... insane. And insanely hot," I admit, a smile tugging at my lips. My mind races with the possibilities—and the risks. Could I really step back into that spotlight? But then, wasn't this what I craved, the chance to be unapologetically me?

"Think about it." Riley's gaze is earnest now, steady. "We do it together. Our rules. Our world."

Our . The word resonates within me, binding and powerful. With Riley, this could be more than an erotic venture—it could be a partnership. Dear Lord, the idea sets my blood on fire.

"Let's do it," I whisper, and lean in towards him to press my lips on his.

"You know what gets me?" Riley murmurs between kisses that trail down my collarbone. "The danger of it all. The sheer thrill of possibly getting caught," he pauses, nipping at my skin gently, "and, honestly, if we ever do, I wouldn't care."

My eyes flutter open, locking onto Riley’s that are so intense. "You wouldn't?" I whisper.

"Not one bit." His fingers trace the curve of my hip. "Because I'm doing what I love. With you, Amelia—the girl I love."

The corners of my mouth turn up into a smile. His words are the kind that reaches deep into your chest and twists something wonderful inside. "Riley," I breathe out, my hand coming up to caress his cheek. "I love you too."