Page 3 of Game Over

I’d been trying to put some money aside for a while, but my piece of shit car finally decided to croak last week, and buying a new one had pretty much obliterated any progress I’d made.

Something I was hoping to reverse, even a little, tonight. The thought was at the front of my mind as I traded into a thinOVWatch tank top that absolutely showed my nipples through the white material and a matching thong.

I knew, at the very least, that Glitch would like it. He always loved when he could see my nipple piercings through my clothes. And even though I wasn’t in the habit of letting a man’s preference dictate what I wore… hedidpay my rent.

A girl could make some exceptions.

It was a solid, mutually beneficial relationship. I sold Glitch the fantasy of the omega gamer girlfriend who was so obsessed with him that I didn’t care about his demanding work schedule, and he made sure I could pay my bills. And all I had to do was cum on camera a few nights a week and shoot a few DMs daily.

I fluffed my hair in the mirror, rubbing my thumbs under my eyes to tidy up my eyeliner before sitting back in my chair to turn off my bright ring lights and on the purple moody ones I used for the Afterdark streams.

Once I was ready to go I grabbed my phone and rang Jesse. They said they’d get off-stream when I did, so I knew they had a minute to at least say goodnight.

It rang a few times before he picked up. “Hey sweetie pie,” they sang through the receiver. “Great stream.”

I snorted, rolling my eyes, “Yeah, right. You must love me to think that playing was good.”

“I do,” he confirmed with a light laugh that made me want to crawl right into his lap. “But you are playing better,” he assured. I could hear him rustling around, probably getting his post-stream snack—a mini bag of sour watermelon candy. Most streamers had some kind of pre- and post-ritual, and Jesse’s postalwaysinvolved sour watermelon candy.

“I sucked,” I insisted, “but that’s fine, I’m not there to be the best, I’m there to draw in subs.”

“Eyes always on the prize,” he teased, speech a little muffled by the candy in his mouth. Though Jesse was a great streamerand very business minded, he was skilled at the game on top of being entertaining. Meaning a lot of his audience showed up and supported him because they loved watching him kick ass. “Your Afterdark stream has to be starting soon right?”

I looked at the timer, counting down the final five minutes. “Yeah, I just wanted to hear your voice. This whole not living together thing, I’d never thought about it much before, but it’s kinda bullshit babe.”

“Absolutely bullshit, sweets.” They laughed. “Come over tomorrow? I’ll cuddle you so fuckin’ good that you forget you missed me in the first place?”

“Sounds like heaven,” I drew out the last word with a groan. “I only have Afterdark tomorrow, so I’ll start it early and come over with pizza after?”

“You know what that sounds like, sweets?”

“No, what?”

“A date.” Jesse purred and I could practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“Okay, Casanova,” I teased. “Miss me bad enough to watch tonight?”

“Nah, you know I don’t.”

“I know,” I said with a smile. “Prefer the real thing.”

“You’re notyouon it anyway, and I think that my aggressive, dominant omega is way hotter.”

When we met, Jesse didn’t know I was a SLCK’d streamer. It was actually something I was pretty nervous to tell him. It was one thing to stream games, it was something else altogether to date a pornstar. I hadn’t dated much since starting in the industry, and definitely not serious enough with anyone to share that side of my life with them.

There were certain safety risks that came with being an unattached omega. Safety risks that transformed into entirely new problems when you were also—moderately—famous.

But after the first month with Jesse, I knew this was going to be a more long-term thing. Or at least I wanted it to be. And I didn’t want to wait and find out down the road that they weren’t interested in dating a sex worker.

Not that Jesse gave a fuck. I’d been so nervous to tell him that I’d been acting like a freak for our entire date. And by the time I worked up the courage to tell him, my palms were so sweaty I dropped an entire milkshake directly into his lap.

Cookies and cream totally fucked his favorite pair of shorts.

I frantically tried to explain my job to him, word-vomiting everything down to the mechanics of how my fuckmachine worked while I tried to mop up the mess. He’d been so quiet, so still that I was sure we were done for—but by the time I stopped talking long enough to take a breath he was laughing.

Cackling, really. But that wasn’t the point.

Turns out I’d been acting so fucking weird all night that he’d thought I was planning on breaking up with him.

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