Cammers With Benefits

Not ready to discuss Brice while in such a compromising position, I say, “He’s recovering slowly, but he’s not about to be ready to film any time soon.” I don’t mention that he’s said that he’s finished with this business, or that we’re not on talking terms at the moment due to an argument two weeks before.

“That’s too bad,” Jack says. The water in his shower switches off. The ruffling of his curtain being folded back bounces across the tile floors as the shower curtain rings clink together. Five steps and he’s standing at the mouth of my shower, pulling the curtain open. I don’t even try to cover up. What would be the point in our line of business? “But even if he’s unavailable, you shouldn’t stop yourself.”

A towel hangs on his left shoulder, but water drips down the rest of his toned body. His cock hangs there, limp for now, but having seen it in action, it’s not hard to remember what it looks like erect. As I consider his words, I unconsciously bite my lips. Though I know exactly what he’s insinuating, I want to hear it from his lips. “Stop myself from what?”

He reaches forward and rubs the back of his hand down my arm. He doesn’t so much as graze any erogenous zones, but a chill runs down my body leaving goose bumps in its wake. “Work with me and I’ll guarantee you make more money than you’ve ever made in your life. Plus, it’s be the easiest acting you’ve ever done.”

“Why’s that?” I ask as he backs away, his tight ass bouncing.

“Because with me, you’ll never have to fake a thing.”

Half an hour later, I’m on my way to the hospital, still rolling over the conversation I just had with Jack. Him being completely nude through half of the conversation certainly isn’t helping the fact that I can’t get him off my mind and Brice back in.

At this point, I haven’t eaten anything since a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that I put together between scenes in the break room. My legs tremble with each step up the hospital stairs at the front of the building. Coming here to patch things up with Brice is filling me with more dread the closer I get. If I’m honest with myself, nothing sounds better than turning around, heading back to my apartment, and ordering a pizza to eat while watching a corny movie I’ve already seen a dozen times.

Then I remember that Brice is in this position because of me. I wasn’t the college student driving the car that smashed through Brice’s bones, but he never would have been on that sidewalk if I hadn’t talked him into filming with me. He wouldn’t be in the hospital. His mother wouldn’t be at risk of losing her house. And even though there’s a real part of me that loves him—despite his attempt to forbid me from going back to camming—there’s also a very real part of me that hates him. That’s not exactly right. He’s more like a proxy of hate for myself. In his pain, I can see the ways I’ve hurt him. And through his words, I can hear the same words the quiet voice in the back of my head whispers right before I fall asleep.

His wing of the hospital is just quieting down for the night. The lights are still blaring bright in the halls, but most of the doors are closed and the nurses are looking as though they’re finally catching their breaths. They’re only busy now with drinking coffee behind their large reception desk, checking messages on phones, and discussing weekend plans.

A new nurse I’ve never met before turns as she hears my footsteps. Her body is straightening up, ready to assist.

“How can I help you, honey?” she asks in her sweet, Southern accent.

“I’m here to see the patient in room 527.”

“Sorry, hon, but visiting hours are over for today. Maybe try coming back here in the morning at ten?”

“Sorry….”I say, dragging out the word to indicate I’m waiting for her to fill in the blank with her name.

“Nurse Ross,” she says.

“Nurse Ross. I haven’t been here the past two weeks, but before this I was in and out twice a day. No one seemed to mind when I came and went. So if I promise to be really quiet, can I just stop by for ten minutes? It’s really important that I talk to Brice tonight.”

“I’m sorry, hon. But if you really need to talk to him, I suggest giving him a ring.”

I almost let slip that I’m afraid he wouldn’t answer if I called, but I manage to hold back. Instead I stifle a yawn with the back of my hand. “Fine,” I say and take a step back. “I understand. Rules are rules.”

“Precisely,” Nurse Ross says primly.

“If he asks, please let him know I stopped by.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” the nurse says absentmindedly. “Get some rest. You look like you’ve been burning the candle at both ends yourself.”

With a smile and a nod, I turn back down the hall, but instead of taking the elevator back down to the ground floor, I jog down the stairs and across the floor just below Brice’s. A renewed energy pulses through my veins, because I’m not about to be stopped by a nurse on a power trip. This is a hospital, not a prison, so I’m going to see Brice one way or another.

Once I’m at the other end of the floor, I take the stairs up one floor. This puts me right across from Brice’s room. Nurse Ross would only have to turn her head to see me, but she’s deep in a conversation with the other nurses, their soft voices floating across the tiled floors like whispers of butterflies.

I’m halfway out of the stairwell, pressing against the heavy door as it fights to stay closed. That’s when Brice’s door opens from the inside. At first my stomach drops as I notice long legs stepping out, but then I recognize the faded pink scrubs worn by junior nurses. Even now they check up on him every few hours, so this isn’t out of the ordinary. Though the nurse herself is. She’s new. Younger. Her face isn’t painted with the same haggard expression as the rest. The hospital hours haven’t broken her down yet, so she still has time to curl her perfectly blonde hair and apply her cosmetics with care.

Allowing the stairwell door to close almost all the way, I hide behind it, spying from the crack. I was only planning to wait until the nurse left, so I could dash across the hall and surprise Brice. But a surprise of my own sends a shiver right down my body, freezing me in place.

Brice says something from deeper inside the room. Although I can’t make out the words, I do recognize the tone he uses. It’s his silly voice, higher-pitched and more musical than his regular speech. The nurse bites her lips, looks around, her gaze glancing right past where I’m hiding. Then she smiles back into the room. Not the smile of an attentive nurse caring for her ward. Nor simply the false, flirty grin one might flash a man one is trying to simultaneously appease and escape.

Another glance down the hall. Then, instead of leaving the room, the nurse retreats back inside, closing the door behind her. I wait a whole ten seconds, breath held, my entire being focused on my ears, but the door remains still and quiet. When I slink across the hall, sticking to the wall right beside Brice’s door, I angle my right ear to listen for what might be happening within. But the hospital doors are heavy. This leaves me only one choice.

The door isn’t locked, because it can’t be locked. With gentle fingers, I turn the handle clockwise, pulling the door open at a maddeningly slow pace so that it doesn’t make any noticeable noise. But I don't have to get it open all the way. Just an inch is all I need for a clear view of the bottom half of the bed. From there, I can clearly see the nurse sitting on the edge, her ankles crossed, her hand on Brice’s thigh.

When I pull away, the door closes with a slam. There’s a shuffle of steps inside his room, but before the nurse can reappear, I dash for the stairwell once more. Two minutes later, I’m bent over, panting with labored breaths just outside