Page 22 of Exrated
I stare at the frozen video of me fucking one of the girls. “Okay,” I say, “what am I looking at?”
“Look at the hits on that video.”
I narrow my gaze on the numbers at the bottom. “Holy shit, does that say two million?”
“It does. Uploaded it a few days ago.” He laughs and claps his hands together. “I knew you’d be the next big one. Women love the way you talk to those girls. It’s like you’re fucking in love with them or some shit. Personally, I never would have thought about it. I would have told you to call ‘em dirty little whores or something, but you’re a natural. Johnny Depth is the next big cock. I’d say it’s only a matter of time before a few dildo companies are asking for a mold of your dick.” He cocks a brow. “And they pay good money for cock casts.”
“Whoa.” I hold my hands up. “A cast of my cock?”
“Yeah, it’s no big deal. You just stick your dick in this tube of goop and let it set up and then they manufacture a million dildos out of it.” He smiles. “Then all your fans can ride your dick while they watch you. It’s brilliant, and we’ll make some nice royalties off it for sure.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Yeah, well, people are crazy, you know? Oh,” he grabs a folder from the edge of his desk, takes out a piece of paper and slides it across to me. “Tests came back. All negative.”
I swallow and grab the slip of paper. “Thanks.” This is when it hits me a little. I guess I should be glad they test us every few weeks, but still, it gives me a sick feeling in my stomach.
“See you tomorrow around noon.”
“Yeah, sure thing, Hud.”
I leave the office and head to the elevator, cramming my test results in my pocket before the doors slide open. Brandi’s inside and she smiles the second she sees me.
“Hey,” she says with that annoying lilt of hers.
“Hey.”
“So, we are finally getting a scene together. I’m so excited.”
I nod. “Yeah. Should be fun.”
“Oh, it totally will.”
The button for the first floor lights up, and we both step off.
“Hey, Johnny,” she says. “Want to go grab lunch or something?”
I stare at her for a moment. She’s a pretty girl, a really pretty girl. “Nah, I gotta get home, but thanks.” I push the door open and hold it for her.
“Just wanted to ask…” she says before heading toward her car.
I’m not trying to get involved with anyone from this fucking place, that’s for fucking sure.
Jemma’s Facebook page. Everything is set to private, so I’m just sitting here like a fucking creepy bastard staring at her profile picture. All I’ve done since the other night is think about her, about how fucking strange it is that we ran into each other. And I can’t help but wonder why she got up and left the way she did. I get that I hurt her. I get that’s she pissed, but we were friends for years,andshe fucked me. I don’t get women at all. They give me a goddamn migraine.
I open a message request and stare at the blinking cursor. What the hell do I say?
Jemma,
It was good to see you the other night
Fuck that. Delete.
Jemma,
I wish you hadn’t of left without—
Oh, God, you fucking pussy. Backspace. Backspace. Backspace. Inhaling, I drag my hands down my face. I’m overcomplicating this.
