Read Online Burning Rivalry (Trevor's Harem #2) by Aubrey Parker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Aubrey Parker
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maybe the thrill of hiding is a flipped sort of hot in itself. Maybe I like feeling ashamed. Maybe I like the sense of humiliation. I don’t like the implications, but it almost makes sense. It’s not like I had a normal childhood, or any healthy relationships.
That’s when I decide this is ridiculous.
If I’m this bothered — and that’s bothered in the usual sense, though I’m apparently hot and bothered as well — by the ever-present eye in the sky, I should leave. I’ve never done anything for money. I make commercial decisions in my work, but they’re still projects I know I’ll enjoy. I did what I’ve done so far to help Linda, but I’d have stopped the instant I encountered something I didn’t actually want to do.
Which raises its own set of internal conflicts. It means that I’ve enjoyed all I’ve done so far.
But if getting naked for the cameras bothers me enough to start taking sponge baths, and change in the corner, maybe I’ve reached my limit. I should go. Find Tony or Logan or Richard or even Trevor and thank them for their time and help and money, but explain that this isn’t for me, which it very much isn’t. I can do it cordially. So long as I don’t have to say it to Daniel, the course of action here is clear.
I take a few slow, deep breaths. I inventory my room’s closet and drawers. There’s more fancy stuff in here than in even Inferno’s very best places, and nearly as much inventory. If the other girls’ closets are all stocked as well, we could put on a fashion show.
I count shoes. I line them up like soldiers.
I feel mostly normal by the time I’m done. I could be in a well-appointed hotel, not in this palace of freaks. I find some good old-fashioned paper books in one of the drawers and start reading something with a unicorn on the cover to kill the time.
I brace myself for dinner, but dinner turns out to be entirely normal — dishes with French names like moules marinières, blanquette de veau, and gigot d’agneau pleureur that I’m entirely too low-brow to appreciate. The meal’s normality is, in itself, odd. Everyone lines up at the tables and eats food. There’s no salacious behavior, no dicks or boobs out, no vibrators or dildos dangling from the ceiling, no parading of our hosts’ and servants’ bodies in front of the room. I don’t talk to Daniel. Trevor makes the rounds, circulating like the groom at a wedding reception.
I realize, as Kylie said, that I’ve never spoken to him at all. He must realize it too, because he sits across from me as dinner breaks up in an entirely mundane way, as we’re having rather ordinary coffee with ordinary half-and-half and ordinary sweetener, stirred with ordinary silver spoons. We weren’t assigned seats, so I’d been sitting with Erin and Jessica. Kat was two people down, looking at me funny. Blair was across from her and they kept chatting in Russian, and when Blair left, she said in a very businesslike manner, “Kat says she has boyfriend at home. Is acrobat and wears makeup like woman.” I wasn’t sure what to do with this information, so I just said thanks. Friendships here are weird. I guess I’m forming some, but I don’t have a friend here who I haven’t seen with a dick inside her.
Trevor, across from me, asks me if I’m enjoying my stay.
Yes, yes. Thank you.
And then he asks me what I do for a living.
I’m a voice actor.
He nods politely then asks a few follow-up questions. No mention is made of my phone sex sideline. Or that, by all rights, he shouldn’t need to ask a single one of these questions. They got the vibrator in my drawer and the Zone bars in my fridge right, so I figure they must know I record audiobooks and do general voice-over work for a living.
Or maybe not.
Because now that I think about it, Daniel seems to run the research part of this operation. He pre-guessed me at every stage. Daniel acts like he knows which color
That’s when I decide this is ridiculous.
If I’m this bothered — and that’s bothered in the usual sense, though I’m apparently hot and bothered as well — by the ever-present eye in the sky, I should leave. I’ve never done anything for money. I make commercial decisions in my work, but they’re still projects I know I’ll enjoy. I did what I’ve done so far to help Linda, but I’d have stopped the instant I encountered something I didn’t actually want to do.
Which raises its own set of internal conflicts. It means that I’ve enjoyed all I’ve done so far.
But if getting naked for the cameras bothers me enough to start taking sponge baths, and change in the corner, maybe I’ve reached my limit. I should go. Find Tony or Logan or Richard or even Trevor and thank them for their time and help and money, but explain that this isn’t for me, which it very much isn’t. I can do it cordially. So long as I don’t have to say it to Daniel, the course of action here is clear.
I take a few slow, deep breaths. I inventory my room’s closet and drawers. There’s more fancy stuff in here than in even Inferno’s very best places, and nearly as much inventory. If the other girls’ closets are all stocked as well, we could put on a fashion show.
I count shoes. I line them up like soldiers.
I feel mostly normal by the time I’m done. I could be in a well-appointed hotel, not in this palace of freaks. I find some good old-fashioned paper books in one of the drawers and start reading something with a unicorn on the cover to kill the time.
I brace myself for dinner, but dinner turns out to be entirely normal — dishes with French names like moules marinières, blanquette de veau, and gigot d’agneau pleureur that I’m entirely too low-brow to appreciate. The meal’s normality is, in itself, odd. Everyone lines up at the tables and eats food. There’s no salacious behavior, no dicks or boobs out, no vibrators or dildos dangling from the ceiling, no parading of our hosts’ and servants’ bodies in front of the room. I don’t talk to Daniel. Trevor makes the rounds, circulating like the groom at a wedding reception.
I realize, as Kylie said, that I’ve never spoken to him at all. He must realize it too, because he sits across from me as dinner breaks up in an entirely mundane way, as we’re having rather ordinary coffee with ordinary half-and-half and ordinary sweetener, stirred with ordinary silver spoons. We weren’t assigned seats, so I’d been sitting with Erin and Jessica. Kat was two people down, looking at me funny. Blair was across from her and they kept chatting in Russian, and when Blair left, she said in a very businesslike manner, “Kat says she has boyfriend at home. Is acrobat and wears makeup like woman.” I wasn’t sure what to do with this information, so I just said thanks. Friendships here are weird. I guess I’m forming some, but I don’t have a friend here who I haven’t seen with a dick inside her.
Trevor, across from me, asks me if I’m enjoying my stay.
Yes, yes. Thank you.
And then he asks me what I do for a living.
I’m a voice actor.
He nods politely then asks a few follow-up questions. No mention is made of my phone sex sideline. Or that, by all rights, he shouldn’t need to ask a single one of these questions. They got the vibrator in my drawer and the Zone bars in my fridge right, so I figure they must know I record audiobooks and do general voice-over work for a living.
Or maybe not.
Because now that I think about it, Daniel seems to run the research part of this operation. He pre-guessed me at every stage. Daniel acts like he knows which color
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