I bite my lip. “And if I say no?”
“You won’t say no,” he says confidently. He lifts me from the desk and helps me straighten my clothing before stepping back. “He’s lost his control,” he says, returning back to business at hand. “Now more than ever, you don’t go anywhere alone. Understand?”
I nod. “A cornered animal is always more dangerous.”
“Especially one who’s used to doing the cornering,” he adds, and then after thinking better of it, he yanks me against him. The kiss he places on my lips this time feels like a promise of pleasure so great, I’m not sure I can ever deny wanting him again. “I’ll see you after work, little bird.”
Twenty-Seven
Ava
Nothing happens after work. Dagen escorts me home and then doesn’t even kiss me goodbye. Apparently, he had some pressing matter to attend to back at Fox Industries. Elsie is already home when I get there, so I don’t mourn the loss too badly. He’d left after telling me that we’d be having a meeting the next morning, so that’s what I look forward to. By the time Elsie goes to bed, I’m amped up with anxiety. The house is too quiet and my nerves are on edge. At first, I try to make a cup of calming tea and relax while I watch a show, but that grows boring fast.
My phone beeps with a notification. I pop it open and stare at the text message that came through.
What’s the matter, Boba_Juliette? You’ve gone through three shows in the last fifteen minutes.
I smile and type out my reply. First, it’s creepy that you know what I’m watching. Second, how the hell did you find my handle from fifteen years ago?
I know everything, he responds, as if that’s not also creepy. What’s wrong?
I sigh and glance up at the camera in the corner of the living room where I know he’s probably watching. There are a few around the house, only in the shared areas like the living room and the kitchen. Mostly, they point at the doors, but the one in the corner can turn. As I look up at it, it turns and looks right at me, so I know he’s watching.
Just. . . anxious, I type out and hit send.
Might I suggest blowing off some steam? His text comes through fast, as if he’d been prepared to send it.
What? Like a glass of wine?
The little text bubbles pop up. I count out the seconds until a single word pops back through.
No.
My chest squeezes. He’s not insinuating what I think he is, is he?
Then what do you mean? I hit send and wait.
You know what I mean, Ava. More bubbles pop up. Go up into your room, lock your door, and release some steam.
My brows shoot up. You’re awfully comfortably telling me that, I fire back.
I know everything about you, he replies. Like the toys in your dresser that you ordered from what I assume is your favorite website. Do me a favor. Use the wand.
My thighs rub together. Wow. That’s. . . hotter than I expected it to be. A man who knows everything about me feels half stalker and half like he cares. Call me insane, but it’s almost. . . sweet. And fuck if him putting in the effort doesn’t do something for me.
I don’t know what to say back, so I just stand, my phone clutched in my hand. The camera follows my movements, but the moment I hit the stairs, it won’t be able to see me anymore. There are no cameras in the bedrooms.
Striding toward the stairs, I feel his eyes on me, on every step I take. It’s only as I pause on the bottom step that I hesitate. Should I be doing this? Going up the stairs to do as he told me, to bring myself some relief while he knows what toy I’m using. He won’t know if I did it or not. He can’t see me. I could lie. I could just refuse. He’s practically a stranger. I don’t even know what he looks like. Doing something like this is crazy. And like I said. . . he wouldn’t even know.
Some rebellious part of me, somewhere deep inside, forms a wicked idea. I look up at the camera mounted in the corner of the room watching me, but it’s not the only camera in the house. There’s one on a shelf right beside me, a wireless one that can remain unplugged that’s meant to watch the side window. It can be unplugged, lose power, and still work. Dagen had explained it all to me. Carefully, I pick the camera up and show the camera in the corner what’s in my hand, then I continue up the stairs with it cradled between my fingers. Once in my room, I lock the door and set the camera on the dresser where it has an unobstructed view of the bed. The moment I set it down, it starts to rotate and move, watching me as I move, and I know he’s there behind it.
I reach into the drawer and pull out the wand. “Is this what you wanted?” I ask out loud.
My phone dings. One word.
Yes.
Knowing I have an audience, I’m conscious of my movements as I slowly climb onto the bed and get into position. I spread my legs so that my night dress falls down around my hips and stroke my fingers over my underwear. Without saying a word, I remove them and start to stroke myself, teasing, getting a thrill at being watched through the camera. He watches me, that red light blinking to let me know he’s connected. The wand flicks on a few minutes later, and I run it around my clit, driving myself insane, imagining Otto stroking himself to the sight of me doing the same. It doesn’t take me long to finish, for me to quiver and shake as I bite my lip so I don’t make too much sound. I’m panting, wishing he was actually here and not just watching through a camera.
