Page 29 of On Your Knees

“Will you two please stop?”

“Yes, daddy,” we both say in unison and Ridge gags. I laugh at him and look at Zeland. “Just send me the video.”

I turn and walk back out before I get any bright ideas about actually joining them to watch whatever boring-ass show is on the television. I have come to really enjoy their company, even the verbal sparring with Ridge, and it has become something I look forward to every day.

“I will send it now,” Zeland calls after me. “And clear your schedule—we have more content to film tomorrow.”

I don’t bother telling him I have classes because I’ve already decided I’m ditching them to spy on Arlo. I know it’s wrong—eventually I will have to tell him who I am.

By the time I’m back in my room and showered, my phone alerts me to a new email. When I open the app on my phone, I find there are two emails waiting from Zeland. One I must have missed earlier has my new email address for the View4U app and explains that I don’twant anything related to the app sent to my private email, since it is easily hacked. He set it all up for me and has given me the login details for that and my creator account with instructions. The second email is the video I requested.

I avoid the video I desperately want to watch and quickly set up the email on my phone, and as soon as I do, the notifications go crazy with comments on my video. I log into the app and scroll to the video and read through them.

KinkStalker:

I will get on my knees for you baby

ShadowPeeker:

New kink unlocked

DarkSoul_Gamer:

I swear this was made just for me

My heart races as I wonder if I should reply and then thinkfuck it.

HideNSeekHottie replies to DarkSoul_Gamer:

Maybe it was ; )

I respond to a few others as well, and I almost die when I see I already have a few thousand followers and eight hundred subscribers in a few hours. I click into the privacy tab and navigate to the payment section. Zeland didn’t explain exactly how you get paid. They broke it down that we get eighty percent of our subscriber payments, and any private videos we get onehundred percent. Then we also get bonuses based on views.

Well, shit, my interest is piqued right now. Especially after seeing the payment tiers Zeland has set up. Viewers pay to see certain content, but he has added a few others that have a locked symbol. I’m presuming he wants to run them past me first since the highest tier mentions nudity, and I don’t know how I feel about porn being on my resume.

I spend way too long flicking through other creators’ accounts. Most of the women flaunt their assets, which I’m down for if you have tits; however, I’ll need a push-up bra with extra padding to give the illusion I have bigger boobs. The male creators get a little more inventive, some simply get their cocks out and stroke them, some do a striptease, and other content like mine seems to just be shirtless men in all types of masks. I can understand how this app can get addictive.

After mindlessly scrolling for over an hour, I open the email from Zeland, and I skip ahead to when he spreads my legs. Then I watch it all the way through from where he fucked me against the fridge, making me hot and bothered. Sliding my hand down beneath the waistband of my pajama shorts, I tease myself, starting the video again until it ends for a second time. Then I ditch my phone and use my imagination; Zeland’s on his knees for Ridge, who has his hand tangled in Zeland’s hair, and Arlo is being forced to watch while I sit behind him and stroke his cock. My entire body tingles at the thought and I work myself to orgasm, thinking about the three men inmy life. They’re ones I didn’t ask for but don’t seem to be going anywhere.

I never get attached to anyone. If my own mother didn’t want to be around me, why would anyone else? Getting closer to them will no doubt end in heartache, and yet I can’t force myself to leave. I want to be around them until they no longer want me, no matter how badly it’s going to hurt in the end.

Chapter Eleven

Arlo

I stare at the elevator numbers increasing way too fast, waiting for my heartbeat to catch up. Eighth floor of Ridgeland Enterprises. My first job—like, actual full-time paycheck. In an actual office, with an actual chance to ruin everything before lunch.

When the doors slide open, I suck in a breath and try to channel someone cooler. Someone who doesn’t sweat through their dress shirt or overthink eye contact. Someone who’s not me.

The reception area is sleek. Way too sleek. With a polished floor, massive windows, and three people standing near a glass table who all look like they juststepped out of a magazine photoshoot for “people who have their lives together.” I recognize Ridge Ellington straight away, his expensive suit and sharp jawline intimidating. Zeland leans casually against the table like he owns the room and maybe the planet. There’s a woman with them. Long braid, boots that could kill a man, and eyes that flick over me like she’s already decided I’m a puzzle worth solving. Women don’t look at me like that and it makes me jittery.

“Arlo,” Ridge greets, his voice deep and clipped.

“Yep. That’s me. Fully functioning adult. Allegedly.”

I wince. Out loud, I said that out loud. Why do I do this? He knows who I am; he interviewed me for fuck’s sake.

Their expressions barely move, but I swear the woman’s mouth twitches like she’s trying not to laugh. Zeland raises an eyebrow, and Ridge looks like he’s calculating whether firing me now would be paperwork or a mercy.

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