Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Liam

I ducked my head, heat creeping up my neck, and managed a half-smile as I mumbled, "I... I’m just... exploring some things, Jack. You know, having a little sexy fun." I forced a laugh, trying to keep things light, hoping he’d buy the story. "Can you maybe... just let me handle this on my own?" Jack’s face softened a little, and I caught a hint of concern in his eyes.

Without waiting for him to probe any further, I spun around, hurried to my room, and shut the door behind me. Letting out a shaky breath, I collapsed face-first onto the bed. "Why can’t this be easier?” I whispered into my pillow, as if somehow the universe would answer me.

I fumbled for my phone, pressed on the banking app, and waited while it loaded. My throat tightened as I saw the new numbers staring back at me. There it was: my tiny severance check and that first unemployment deposit. It was something, at least, but once rent was paid, there’d be next to nothing left for food, bills, anything else. I dropped my head back onto the pillow, feeling the familiar burn of frustration in my eyes. Out of everyone in this world, Jack was the last person I wanted to disappoint.

Then I heard the creak of the door to our shared bathroom. I bolted upright, a quick jolt of panic running through me as I wondered if I’d left any evidence of my last video taping lying around. I mean, afterward I’d gone in the bathroom and cleaned up. Did I leave something naughty in there? But after a mental run-through of this morning, I remembered putting everything away. Still, that door opening so close by reminded me of just how risky all of this was.

I bit my lip, thinking fast. Maybe I could take my setup somewhere else—Bradley’s old room, maybe? The place was just sitting there, gathering dust since he left. And it had its own bathroom. Less risk, fewer eyes. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was better than nothing.

The faint sound of the shower running from our bathroom told me Jack would be occupied for a while. Heart pounding, I slid off the bed and crept out of my room, trying to make each step down the hall as silent as possible.

I eased open Bradley's door and was immediately hit by the chaos inside. It looked like a hurricane had torn through here. The mattress was half-off the bed frame, flopping down like it’d just given up. Every single drawer was yanked out and left hanging open, the contents spilling onto the floor—clothes, old paperwork, stray socks, and other things his parents had left behind. Even the carpet in the walk-in closet had been pulled up and rolled back, exposing patches of wood and a surprising amount of dust.

“Damn,” I muttered, taking it all in. The cops hadn’t left a single corner untouched when they’d searched for Bradley’s stash. But as messy as it was, I could work with this. Actually, considering the alternative of doing this in my own room, this place was kind of ideal.

For one, I had it all to myself. And two… the space was a serious upgrade. Bradley’s parents had been so upset about everything, they’d left his furniture behind instead of hauling it back. I’d half-expected them to storm in here with a moving truck and rip everything out, but here it all was, just waiting for me to make it useful.

I stepped over a pile of abandoned books and gave the mattress a good shove, straightening it out on the frame. That done, I took in the room with a little more vision. Sure, it was a wreck right now, but all I needed to do was clean up the mess, throw on some fresh sheets, and I’d have the perfect setup. Plus, the lighting in here was a thousand times better than in my room. There was floor-to-ceiling windows, and soft, natural light streamed in, casting the whole room in a kind of warm, inviting glow. I didn’t even need any extra equipment to make it look professional.

I grinned as I moved through the space, mentally setting up the angles and layout in my head. Bradley had always been ridiculously pretentious about his stuff, and his bed was no exception. Sturdy, comfortable, big enough for a million different setups.

“This is perfect.”

The next morning Jack and I nearly missed the train. After we boarded, we rode in silence most of the way, the train rumbling along under the hum of early morning commuters. I was staring out the window, pretending to be absorbed by the view, but I noticed his eyes flicking over to me now and then.

As the train slowed down for our stop, Jack turned toward me, his voice soft but serious. “Hey, are you doing okay? You’ve seem kinda off lately.” He hesitated, then added, “Is it your job?”

I shifted in my seat, my hands tightening around the strap of my bag. “Work’s… been rough,” I said, trying to keep it vague. And technically, that wasn’t a lie.

Jack nodded slowly, watching me a moment longer before leaning in closer. He lowered his voice to a near-whisper. “Are you lonely or something?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “I mean… all the, you know, sexy stuff. Are you trying to, you know… connect with someone? Like, are you on one of those dating apps or something?”

Heat rose in my cheeks. I was saved by the screech of brakes as the train pulled up to our stop, and I scrambled to my feet. We joined the flood of people filing off, barely managing to keep up with the herd as everyone jostled up the stairs and into the street. Manhattan, buzzing and crowded, hit me with its usual mix of energy and pressure.

At the top of the steps, Jack turned to me, his expression softer now. “Hey,” he said, his tone gentler, “you can always talk to me.” Then, before I could even come up with a response, he gave me a quick, reassuring smile and hurried off in the direction of his office, blending into the river of people.

I watched him go, then leaned back against a nearby signpost, the flow of commuters swirling past me as if I didn’t exist. I could see them all hurrying off to their regular jobs, their routines, their dependable paychecks… things I’d taken for granted just a few weeks ago. I wished, more than anything, that I could just be one of them. But here I was, hiding this secret from everyone. My friends, my family—hell, I could never tell them about this. And I definitely couldn’t tell Jack.

With a heavy sigh, I straightened up and crossed the street, pushing my way through the crowd until I found the stairs that led down to the subway platform for the next train back to Long Island. The station was almost deserted now, the rush of commuters already gone. I found a seat by the window and settled in, reaching for my phone.

On a whim, I opened the FantasyFans app. I’d posted a few basic photos plus the video the night before, just enough to get things started, but I wasn’t expecting much. My heart thudded as I checked the numbers—and nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw I already had ten subscribers.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, staring at the screen.

The woman sitting behind me cleared her throat, and I snapped my phone down, heat rushing to my face again as if she’d somehow read my mind. I cast a quick glance around, but no one seemed to be paying any attention. With a shaky breath, I tucked my phone into my bag, glancing out the window as the train pulled closer to my stop.

When we arrived on Long Island, I climbed off and made the short walk back to the building, my mind racing. Ten subscribers already. It was just a start, but maybe—just maybe—I could make this work.

Back in Bradley’s room, I stepped back to take in the transformation. I’d dusted, organized, put clean sheets on the bed, and even took a damp cloth to the dresser and windowsill. Sunlight streamed through the wide window, warming the space, making it feel new and fresh. Bradley’s clutter and chaos were gone, and in its place, I saw an opportunity.

Today was going to be different. No quick, formulaic shots. If I was going to keep building this new venture, I’d have to make the content stand out. And maybe even make it... a little artful. Not just random poses or cheap lighting tricks, but something people would stop and take a second look at.

I crossed the room to the window and pulled back the curtains fully. Light flooded in, illuminating the bed and the room’s clean, almost empty corners. The vibe was minimalist, but that was fine. I wanted the focus to be on me—not on any mess or distractions around me. I adjusted the angle of the phone clamp and set up my phone so it could catch the way the light filtered in.

Then I went to my room, opened my closet, and reached for the suit at the very back—the one I’d worn when I thought I’d be climbing the corporate ladder. The dark navy fabric still looked crisp, though it smelled faintly of cologne and memories that felt far away. The collar, the cut, the stiff fabric—it all reminded me of who I used to be. It seemed like a perfect contrast for what I was about to do.

Slipping into the jacket, I adjusted the lapels and checked myself in the mirror. I’d kept the shirt collar slightly open, enough to look like I’d had a long day and was starting to unwind. Professional on the surface, but something else brewing underneath. Just the kind of tease I thought my subscribers would appreciate.

Back in Bradley’s room, I took a few practice shots, checking the angles, making sure everything looked just right in the soft light. Satisfied, I hit “record” on the camera and settled into character.

As I started the shoot, I kept myself mostly covered up, snapping a few sultry shots of myself in the suit. I'd caption them later with something deliciously dirty: "long day at the office" or "ready to give orders." They'd look innocent enough on the surface, but those with filthy minds would be able to tell what was really going on.

But I wasn't in a rush to get there. No, I took my sweet time, each movement measured and deliberate. I unknotted my tie slowly, letting it slide from my collar before casually tossing it onto the bed. The jacket followed, and I felt a thrill, a delicious shiver that ran through me as I peeled back this layer of my character, piece by piece.

Finally, when I was naked, I looked right into the lens, letting the character take full control. "You want that promotion?" I asked again, holding the camera's gaze, letting a slow, seductive smile spread across my lips. "Then keep your eyes on me. Show me how badly you want it."

My heart raced as I lost myself in the scene—this fictional world I'd created, a high-powered boss in an empty, sunlit room, laying out orders for someone unseen. And fuck, it turned me on to imagine a hot guy right there with me, watching, wanting, aching to follow my every command.

But I wasn't done yet. No, I wanted to draw this moment out, to make it last. I trailed my fingers down my chest, tracing the lines of my abs, teasing the sensitive spot just above my cock. I took my time, savoring every inch of my body as I touched myself, imagining all eyes on me.

I let out a low groan. "You like that?" I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Show me. Let me see how much you want it."

My hips bucked as I started to stroke myself, imagining a stranger’s hands on me instead of my own. "Fuck," I muttered, losing myself in the filthy fantasy. "Tell me how bad you want it."

As I laid back on the bed, my hand wrapped around my cock, I suddenly thought of Jack. Imagining him there with me, watching me, urging me on. It was like a switch had been flipped in my mind, turning up the heat and making everything feel more intense.

My cock grew harder in my hand as I imagined Jack undressing himself, revealing his toned body to me. My breath hitched as I pictured him crawling onto the bed with me, his intense blue eyes locked on mine.

I wanted him so badly, to feel his skin against mine, to taste his lips and explore every inch of his body. But for now, all I could do was imagine it as I continued jerking myself off.

In my fantasy, Jack climbed up my body, then I took his cock into my mouth. His hands tangled in my hair as I sucked and licked and teased him until he was panting and begging for release.

“Suck it, Liam,” Jack panted, thrusting his girth deeper down my throat. “Pull the cum out of me with your mouth and tongue.”

Suddenly he was facefucking me, rough and hard. And then it happened— my cock exploded, sending jets of come all the way up to my chest, with a glob landing on my chin. And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, I pictured Jack shooting his load down my throat like a naughty reward for being such a good boy.

My breathing slowed as the fantasy faded away, leaving me alone in the empty room once again. Then I realized I was still filming, so I opened my eyes and stared straight at my phone across the room.

“Do you want me now?” I breathed, and I smeared my fingers through the come on my chest and leered. “Is this what you wanted to see?”