Page 73 of Caught Up

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Lauren

NT95 has sent you acustom request.

I stared down at the message in disbelief. I’d asked for space, and Junior’s response was to try to pay for more of my time.

“Open it,” Taylor said, looking over my shoulder.

“I don’t want to.”

“What happened?” Ryan asked, perking up from where they’d been half asleep on my other side. It was after midnight, and we werebinge-watchingmore reality TV to unwind from a long day of filming and editing, Walter asleep in his doggie bed nearby.

“Junior sent me another request,” I said.

“I’m with Taylor on this one,” Ryan said. “You should open it, at least to see what he wants.”

My thumb hesitated over the screen. Asking for space hadn’t been easy, especially because I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Junior and I had defiled that confessional booth. I’d spent the rest of the day turned on, andbatch-filmingcontent when I’d gotten home hadn’t diminished my desire. Even now, over a week later, the memory of him barely pushing into me had every drop of moisture in my body moving south for the winter. The sound of his breaths near my ear. The feel of his lips on my neck and his hand at my throat. Fuck, I wanted it again.

Which was why I knew that opening his message was a Bad Idea. I didn’t trust myself to tell him no. I’d either use the cash he offered or the opportunity to finally get answers out of him as an excuse to meet up again. And then we’d probably havefull-blown,p-in-the-vsex and my mind would be so blissed out from dick that I’d forget all about the tracker and stalking and everything else he might have done that I didn’t know about.

“Oops,” Taylor said, tapping my screen and taking the decision out of my hands.

The first thing listed in PPV requests was always the price, and my eyes bugged out at the sight of it.

“Ten grand?” Taylor hissed, scooting closer.

Ryan pressed against my other side. “To do what? Kill someone?”

“Come to my cousin’s barbecue,” Taylor read. She looked up at me in confusion. “Is that a euphemism?”

“I have no idea,” I said.

Ryan pulled up their phone and started searching. “I don’t see anything about it being one.”

“Wait,” Taylor said. “Scroll down.” She slid her finger over my screen and then read Junior’s message aloud. “I’m not ashamed of you, Lo. Give me a chance to prove it.”

Uh-oh. I could already feel myself starting to cave, willing to hear him out.

I shoved the phone at Ryan like it was a bomb. “Hit deny. I can’t do it myself.”

They took it, eyeing me. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “I asked for time, and instead of honoring that, he’s pushing for more access to me. That makes red flag number...eight? Nine? He needs to start learning how to respect my boundaries.”

Ryan hit deny.

A knock sounded on our front door.

Walter leapt out of his bed and ran for it, barking his head off.

No. Fucking. Way.

“Weapons,” Ryan said, our standard response to anyone at our door after midnight.

They went scrambling off the couch while I beelined toward Walter. He was barking so loud that even with the insulation, I was worried he would wake our neighbors.

I grabbed the baseball bat we kept propped by the coat rack and ducked, trying to soothe him into silence. “It’s okay, bud.”

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