“There’s a camera in here?” he asked. “Rightnow?”
“Of course there is,” I replied. “They’re everywhere.”
He sat up and scanned the walls until he spotted the device. His jaw ticked in agitation, and he shoved away from the headboard, moving to sit beside me instead so we both faced away from the camera’s lens.
Then he leaned in and rested his horned head on my arm, and I took a breath.
“I’m tired of being hungry all the time. Of needing things I hate needing. Of having to smile and flirt and pretend I like it when people touch me just to keep from feeling worse. And I’m tired of this…” My features pinched in a bitter frown. “ThismagicI have that makes people want me, because that means I’ll never know if they actually do.”
Beck felt betrayed, that much was clear, and honestly? I did too. It was like I’d deceived us both, but in different ways. I’d charmed Beck somehow, lured him like the siren Maslow said I was, and I’d been carried away by my own song, believing some well-to-do higher demon could see me as more than a rent boy with a ridiculous price tag.
Darby’s arm slipped around me again, steadying me against the threat of another breakdown.
“I don’t want to enchant anyone. I just want—” My voice was the first thing to crack. “I just want someone to care about me because theywantto. Not because I made them.”
Darby snuggled into me with his tail wound around my middle. “I care,” he murmured. “You didn’t make me.”
My heart flopped like a fish out of water, and I turned into him, grabbing hold and pulling him down so we were lying back to front. He squealed with surprise but swiftly relaxed into my embrace. Given our height difference, he fit neatly inside my frame, a small, snuggly thing that Icouldn’t imagine anyone not wanting to cozy up with, dicks in asses or no.
“I thought I was comfortingyou,” Darby complained, but his happy wiggle betrayed his true feelings on the matter.
I puffed a sigh into his hair. “Yeah, well, you’re tiny, and this feels nice too.”
“It does,” he agreed, then tensed. “But maybe not in the middle of Porn Central Station. Don’t want Mazzy jerking it to the sight of us looking sweet on each other.”
The thought of Maslow palming his dick to anything made me want to gag. I released Darby and rolled over to sprawl on my back with my hands over my face. My palms muffled the words as I groaned, “Ugh, you ruined it.”
Darby sprang off the mattress with a laugh. “Come to my room. You aren’t staying here.”
Peeking between my fingers, I saw him standing by with a mischievous grin.
“You mean it?” I asked.
“Sure.” He beamed wider. “My bed’s only a twin, though, so we’ll have to get real cozy unless you’re okay with sleeping on the floor.”
It was the first reason I’d had to smile all day. “Thanks,” I said.
He nodded, then spun away, but not toward the exit. “One last thing,” he called back.
Skipping over to one of the display cases, he slid the glass door open and pulled out a jiggly purple dildo. The thing was massive in his hand, long and girthy with exaggerated veins. He gave it a wiggle before approaching the opposite wall and stopping beside the video camera. Sticking out his tongue, he made a show of licking the suction cup baseof the phallus before slapping it over the camera’s lens, obstructing its view of the room.
When released, the rubber cock wobbled comically, and Darby erupted into laughter. He hurried away, catching my hand as he passed and towing me along behind.
It was a rescue I didn’t have to bargain for. No contract, no fine print, just the gentle encouragement of someone who wanted me to be free.
Maybe that shouldn’t have meant so much, but it hit differently.
Maslow had pulled me out of Hell, but he’d done so with chains in mind. He’d dressed it up as mercy and spun it into a story where I owed him everything. Then he told me to be grateful, reminding me constantly how he’d “saved” me.
Darby didn’t save me; he just led me out of a place I didn’t want to be.
And somehow, I was more grateful for that than anything Maslow had ever done.
CHAPTER
THIRTY
Beck
