Rebel Soul

It shows a little more than I intended for it to, but…it’s a money shot if I’ve ever seen one, and I know it will secure me a spot with VK.

Before I can second-guess it or talk myself out of it, I toggle over to their submissions page and fill out the form. I read over the terms and conditions one last time, attach my best shots, and send it off.

A knock sounds at my door right as a little rainbow cat icon pops up, letting me know my submission is pending. “Yeah?”

The door opens, and West steps in. “What—” His eyes take in the state of my room—black lingerie on the floor, me clad in only my robe, the screen of my laptop. “What are you doing?”

Frantically, I exit the window, only for a popup to appear thanking me for applying. “Nothing. Why? You?”

He scans the space again. “Uh.” He clears his throat and shifts on his feet. “Movie night?” His voice is tight, like he’s asking to be polite and not because he wants to.

Fuck. My. Life.

Chapter Seventeen

West

Why is the Virtual Kitty site pulled up on her laptop? Why is there lingerie—incredibly fucking sexy lingerie—on her floor? Why are the covers all mussed up? Why is she painted up like a doll? A million questions and scenarios flit through my mind.

Originally, I came up to ask her to join me downstairs for some pizza and a movie—an olive branch, of sorts. Things are tense between us, and I hate it.

But now…now I have questions, and they need answers, so when she turns me down with a smile faker than the red hue of her hair, I’m a man on a mission.

To add insult to injury, the vision of her in that tiny, barely-there robe is pretty much burned into my retinas. The thought of sliding my hands beneath the lapels to explore her smooth, creamy skin has my dick twitching beneath my navy sweats.

My curiosity trumps my arousal, however, and I lock myself away in my office, pull up the site, and enter my credentials. Within two seconds, I’m in the admin-only area, scrolling through submissions. Jesus, there’s a lot. Finally, a familiar headshot catches my eye, and I click the link.

Name: Stacia Iris Kellan

Preferred username: Defiant_Queen

Preferences: Solo, pics, chat

I scroll a little lower, and her submission photos begin to load. A twinge of guilt pinches my heart for looking at these without her consent. Then again, Virtual Kitty is my fucking company. She gave her consent when she uploaded them. With that in mind, I hold fast.

The first image is her headshot: she’s facing the camera straight on, smirking naughtily. The second is a full-body shot of her wrapped only in black lace. She looks like a naughty present—one I’d fucking love to unwrap. The third image is her from the back, looking over her shoulder at the camera, biting her lip.

The fourth picture though—goddamn! It has me up and out of my chair, erection and good sense be damned.

I barge into her room, ready for…I don’t fucking know what. But my skin is electric, and my blood feels fuzzy in my veins.

“The hell—can I help you?” Stacia asks, sitting on the edge of her bed, still wearing only her robe, looking perturbed.

Stalking toward her, I’m an apex predator with prey in its sights. “Yeah, you can,” I say before stepping between her legs and claiming her lips with my own.

I half expect her to shove me away and cuss me out, so imagine my shock when she tugs me down on top of her and locks her legs around my waist, grinding into me.

Our kiss isn’t sweet or tender; it’s rude and devoid of all pleasantries. We’re a combustible combination of lips, teeth, and tongue as each of us airs our frustrations with our bodies.

I tangle my hands in her hair. She scratches her nails down my back. I grind my erection into her. She bites down on my bottom lip damn near hard enough to draw blood. It’s an erotic push and pull as we lose ourselves in each other’s bodies until we’re nothing more than a mass of panting, writhing limbs.

Finally, she pulls back. I can’t help but stare at her messy hair, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips. She looks like a sex goddess come to life, and I’m all too willing to lay myself at her altar.

“What in the fuck just happened?” Stacia asks, not bothering to right her robe.

“You wanna tell me about Virtual Kitty?” I stay cradled between her legs, with a hand on either side of her face, arms extended to hold me above her.

She sputters. “Wh-what?”

I shift closer, and my erection brushes against the apex of her thighs. We both moan. “You heard me. I saw your application.”

This catches her attention. “You what?” she shrieks, trying like hell to get out from under me.