Without Remorse

I want you to stop lying to me.

Another ping sounded.

I want the real you.

She pulled back from the laptop as soon as she read it. Too bad, buddy. That was part of the gig. She was only selling fantasies here.

But hey, if he needed the illusion of connection so he could get off, fine with her. She giggled. “This is the real me, silly. I’m right here in front of you. Talking to you. Thinking about you, wherever you are. Are you touching yourself while you watch me?”

That’s enough for tonight. Be honest the next time we talk.

His words made her a little uneasy but she kept her patented smile on. “Or you’ll punish me?”

Stop pretending. I know you’re dying of loneliness. You put on a good mask, but I see you. I see all of you.

Two low tones sounded, signaling the end of the session. Sloane blinked a couple times. Okay. She’d seen a lot in the three years she’d been camming, but she had to say, that was a new one. She’d certainly had disturbing calls before. Guys who were into rape fantasies. She didn’t mind a little dubious consent, but she drew the line at abusive clients talking about all the ways they wanted to molest her against her will. She usually passed on hardcore BDSM patrons too. Wasn’t her brand. She made plenty of money doing things she was comfortable with.

Saint hadn’t actually been creepy. Just more… unsettling. She frowned at the screen, moving her mouse to hover over the Block User button.

Then she glanced over at the 20,000 tokens she’d just earned. Don’t be stupid, Sloane. Now was not the time to look a gift horse in the mouth.

She moved the mouse away from the Block button. He probably wouldn’t even try to private chat her again. Obviously he hadn’t gotten whatever it was he’d been looking for.

She flopped back on the bed. At least this long day was finally at an end.

Now she could go to sleep

And try her hardest not to dream of a certain someone with piercing hazel eyes…

Chapter 5

SLOANE

“Shit, shit, shit,” Sloane swore as the oven buzzer continued going off at an ear-piercing shriek.

She’d had a late night. Several regulars booked appointments last minute that ended up running into the early morning hours. Then this morning she’d overslept and barely had time to catch a quick shower—just a regular one, not on cam—while the red velvet cake cooked.

Except she’d taken too long in the shower and the oven buzzer had been going off for at least five minutes while she grabbed a robe and dashed to the kitchen to pull it out of the oven.

“Shit,” she yelped again when the third of four cakepans accidently touched her forearm. She barely managed to drop it on the counter before jumping up and down and swearing at the pain.

She ran over to the sink and put her arm under the cold water. Son of a bitch, that hurt. The oven buzzer continued shrieking behind her.

“Fine, fine, I hear you,” she muttered, turning back and pulling out the last pan which was a tin of cupcakes, also red velvet.

And then the doorbell rang.

“Shit.” Sloane looked down at herself. She was in another barely-there silk robe that only hit the tops of her thighs.

She finally switched off the damn alarm, then she jogged through Ramona’s room to the front door, clutching her singed arm to her side. Ramona gave a questioning meow but didn’t move as Sloane hurried past.

She looked through her peephole. Nicholas stood there looking beyond gorgeous in the bright light of afternoon.

“Just a minute,” she called through the door. “I’ll be right there.”

Then she turned and ran for her room without waiting for an answer. She jerked her dresser drawers open and started pulling on a pair of underwear before realizing they were one of her crotchless pairs.

“Goddammit,” she hissed, almost toppling over. She steadied herself on the dresser at the last minute and then grabbed one of her few non-lacy cotton pairs. A few seconds later she was fastening a bra and yanking on an Orlando Rocks t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

She paused for one quick look in the mirror. Her hair was flying in all directions and her cheeks were overly pink from running around the house like a madwoman. She grabbed some lip gloss and applied it as she hurried back toward the front door. She capped it and shoved it in her pocket before stopping right at the door.

Okay, you can do this. Don’t be a freak. Don’t be a freak.

She yanked the door open and smiled wide. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Nicholas’s eyes warmed as soon as he saw her.

“Hi,” she said again, stupidly. Jesus, hadn’t she just told herself not to be a freak? “Come in.” She pulled the door open and gestured him inside.