Helen
I stared at the phone, the words hanging between us.
My mouth went dry.
“I was the one who worked hard to get you approved,” he said, voice low and calm. “I’m certain you already got the email.”
I blinked, still processing. No wonder it had come through on a random Saturday after weeks of waiting and polite requests.
“I… thank you?” I said, still a little stunned.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he replied, a dark edge sliding into his tone. “This is still a payment. You still owe me for the night you watched my videos without closing the folder.”
My cheeks burned. I knew exactly what he meant—the night I had touched myself to the sight of him f*****g someone else on that screen, the night he had caught me and made me finish while he watched.
“Anyway,” he continued, “I need you to come
