Page 139 of For the Fans
But then he quickly backs up, pulling himself off of me, and leaving me lying back on the couch with my pulse pounding between my legs.
Fuck him.
I sit up slowly, head twirling while he grabs his laptop. “I can give you the password to the OF if you want…”
“Not necessary,” I grumble, and he shrugs.
“Fine. But you need to put effort into this too.”
“Iam. I made the damn Twitter and retweeted some of your posts. What more do you want from me?”
He gives me the side-eye. “You have to stay on top of it. Respond to people’s comments. Engage. It’s the best way for us to gain new subscribers.”
“Fine.” I roll my eyes stubbornly.
Leaning into his side, I scroll through the comments on our sex video clip he shared. I get the feeling he’s staring at me, but when I peek at him, his eyes are on the screen.
“Oh my God,” I grunt, stopping on one comment from a person with the handleFister_Jones1002. “Did you see this??”
Avi laughs while I gawk, mortified at the comment, which reads:
Fister_Jones1002: Bottom is stunning. I would wreck that ass. *heart eye emoji*
Scrolling down, I gasp at another extremely perverse one, fromDaddyDom6969.
DaddyDom6969: Can I meet you? Spitroast the blonde in half. *winky face*
“Jesus Christ…” I mutter. “Look at this shit.”
Peteypie7421: I wanna give you both a golden *shower emoji*
“What the hell is wrong with this person??” I shake my head, baffled by what I’m reading. There are hundreds of them, and they seem to get crazier the farther down you scroll.
“That’s people on the internet for you.” Avi chuckles.
“It’s fucked. Who just writes stuff like that to strangers??”
He shrugs. “Why are you surprised? It’s how creeps are online. This isn’t news.”
“Yea, well, I guess that’s why I don’t participate,” I huff, to which Avi scoffs and I glare at him.
“Yea right!” He cackles. “You practically live on Instagram. Always posting your little motivational quotes.Hashtag blessed,” he says mockingly, then rolls his eyes. “Please.”
I can’t help how my lips curve into a cunning smirk. “I didn’t know you followed me…”
He frowns. “I don’t. The dumb thing just won’t stop showing me your shit, even though I don’t care.”
“Right.” My grin widens. “Whatever you say, Insta-stalker.”
“Shut up,” he growls.
But now that I know how much this is getting to him, there’s no possible way I could stop.
Turning to face him, I murmur, “Do you even post anything on your account? Or did you make it for the sole purpose of secretly watching everything I do?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not that interesting…” he mumbles, visibly biting the inside of his cheek while he focuses on the laptop screen.
This is immensely satisfying.
