"What?" I asked, shaking my head.
"What kind of mood do you need to be in to cook again? Need some complimenting? Some help with something?" he asked, pushing off the door, making his way toward me, head dipped down to keep my eye contact. "Or do you need to come so hard you forget what day of the week it is?" he asked, his front pressing into mine, making me take a step back. "Yeah, I think that's what it would take," he said, seeing something in my gaze that I meant to hide from him.
The fact that I had been having more than a few vivid sex dreams about him. And maybe even some fully awake sex fantasies.
What can I say? He was the ultimate hot bad boy with an underlying goodness.
And, well, I'd accidentally caught him with his shirt off more than a few times now which wasn't helping my resolve to keep my hands off of him.
I mean, the man had the kind of abs you wanted to lick something off of. Whipped cream chocolate sauce, his own damn sweat after working out, I wasn't picky.
We didn't even need to talk about his arms. Or his back. Or his ass. Good, God, his ass.
"Huck..." I said, shaking my head because my lips refused to say the words my mind told me I was supposed to say.
"You tell me with any kind of honesty that you don't want me, and I'm out, babe," he told me. "Won't stand here like this again," he added, his hand moving out, resting on the side of my neck, gliding down. "Won't touch you like this," he said, fingertips gliding over my clavicle. "Or this," he went on when my breathing went fast and shallow, his fingertip grazing over my hardening nipple. He teased over it, making it tighten, press against the fabric of my shirt. "And definitely not this," he said, hand leaving my breast to press between my thighs, making me do a sharp intake of breath.
His air rushed out of his nose as his fingers shifted, finding my clit through my leggings and panties, dragging a choked whimper out of me.
"You want me to stop?" he asked, a question and somehow a challenge at the same time, daring me to deny what it was clear my body wanted.
"No," I admitted, my gaze holding his as his finger started to work circles over my clit with a practiced perfection. My forehead pressed into his shoulder, my eyes drifting closed, slipping into the moment, into the sensations.
Huck's free hand went to the back of my neck for a long moment as his hand moved upward, slipping under my panties, gliding over my cleft with nothing in the way, dragging a moan out of me and a rumbling, approving sound out of him.
Huck's thumb went to my clit as his other fingers slid down, pressed against the opening of my body for a long second before surging inside, thrusting lazily as his thumb drove me upward.
"No, don't stop," I whined when his hand suddenly moved out of my pants.
"Sh," he demanded, hands grabbing at the waistbands of my pants and panties, drawing them down, lowering to his knees as he went, mirroring that other night in his room.
Except, this time, when his face was level with my sex, he didn't avert his eyes, he didn't move to stand again.
No.
His hand slid up the back of my calf, lifting, spreading, opening me up to him. As soon as I was, he leaned forward, his tongue tracing up my cleft, finding my clit, and moving over it in fast, relentless circles, driving me up hard and fast.
"Huck, I—" I started, my hands pressing down on his shoulders, trying to force my legs to keep holding my weight even as my thighs started to shake.
On a growling noise, his hands moved to my hips, grabbing, sinking in, turning, then tossing me back, making my stomach drop as I free-fell for a second before my back bounced off the mattress.
I barely had a second to register the new position before his hands were grabbing my legs, spreading them wide on the mattress before his lips were on me again, sucking my clit hard before his tongue moved out again, working me with more pressure as his fingers thrust back inside, turning, curling against my top wall, driving me up hard and fast.
I barely had a chance to realize it was coming before the orgasm slammed through my system, stealing my voice, my breath, and for one short, unexpected second, my vision too. There was just whiteness all around as the waves crashed through my system, kept pulling me under, as Huck licked and rubbed, dragged it out until I was a trembling mass of overworked nerve endings.
Only then did he push up, planting his hands on either side of my chest, hovering over me, waiting for my eyes to drift open.
When they did, I found a cocky smile on his stupidly handsome face. I couldn't even begrudge him it. He'd earned that smile.
"So," he said, lips twitching. "Are you in the mood to cook now?"
Surprised, a laugh bubbled up and burst out of me as I looked up at him.
"Food?" I asked, smiling. "Food is what is on your mind right now?"
"Well, this was just an appetizer," he said, moving to stand, running his thumb over his lower lip, slipping it inside his mouth, tasting me again. "I'm still hungry."
How was he thinking about food?
Shouldn't he have been thinking about fucking me, not about his empty stomach?
"I just... you..."
"Don't worry, babe," he said, "I got all kinds of plans for your pussy," he told me, reaching down to grab my ankle, yanking it up and pinning it over my other leg, making my lower half cross over, giving him access as his hand raised and landed a slap to my ass. "And maybe your ass," he added, rubbing the sting away. "But I'm going to make you beg for it first."
"I don't beg," I told him, shaking my head.
"Careful, Harmon. That sounds a fuckuva lot like a challenge to me," he said, hands leaving me as he backed up, turned, and made his way to the door. "Now, come back down here so we can talk about dinner," he added, shooting me a victorious smile over his shoulder before leaving me alone with my swirling thoughts and orgasm-contented body.
I hadn't been lying to him.
I'd never begged a man for attention before. And, believe me, there were times when I was close, when men like him with the looks and the charm didn't also come with the interest I so desperately craved from them. But what little bit of pride I'd had always prevented me from becoming weak and needy enough to beg them for what I wanted.
That said, if there was a man who had the potential to make me swallow my pride, I had a feeling it was Huck. Especially if we continued to be trapped together in the same house, where avoiding him would be impossible.
The man worked out in the backyard with no shirt on for goodness sakes.
I could be standing at the sink washing out my coffee mug only to look up and see him doing calisthenics that shouldn't have been as sexy as they were. But there he was, nearly six and a half feet of finely tuned muscles, the kind that suggested he could hold my body weight which could open up a whole new world of sexual positions to me.
But I wasn't going to beg.
Not for something as stupid as sex.
I mean, if I really needed it, I could find someone to sleep with.
It wasn't like there was potential for anything remotely more than a good couple nights of fun with Huck.
And I wasn't sure that I was in the mood for more bad decisions with regard to men. There was already so much going on.
Besides, if I was stuck here in the house with these guys for any length of time, complicating things with sex was just a recipe for disaster.
On a grumble, I sat up, reaching down to snag my pants and panties, pulling them back on, then moving over toward my computer.
Normally, I liked to being halfway put together when I was on camera. It was a frustrating part of the business, but when I showed up with my hair done, with my eyes lined, with red lipstick on my face, I got more views, got more engagement.
That said, I just needed a distraction for a bit. And if I was going to play, it just made sense to stream it, make some money off of it via a gift feature that could be integrated into it.
"I know this looks a little different," I said to the camera as I picked up where I'd left off
last time. "Life has been a little crazy lately," I told my audience. "And, long story short, I need to stay here for a little while. I know the background isn't quite as cool as my sound panels, but we will have to make do. Also, with the lack of the sound equipment, you might hear more background noise than usual, but we will just all try to ignore that. Now, where were we?" I asked, genuinely waiting for someone else to answer. So much had been going on, it was easy to forget about things that, ordinarily, took up a good amount of my headspace. "Oh, right. I need to go on a quest to find the kidnapped prince," I said, shaking my head.
KitKatTalksBack: You look flushed.
"Yeah, I know. It's a million degrees today. And I was just, ah, working out a bit. Anyone else here today?" I asked, glancing over at the chat box.
Patrick: You look tired.
"Nope. Not at all. I just don't have makeup on," I explained, annoyed that I had to.
Patrick: Why are you in a new spot?
"Oh, just some life changes. You know, personal stuff," I said, trying to brush him off, hoping for some others to join the live stream, so I didn't have to keep talking to him.
KitKatTalksBack: Yeah, man. Mind your business.
There was my girl. We had to stick together in this male-dominated world.
PizzaSlut20: Is that a dog barking? Did you get a dog?
"Yeah, that's barking. No, I didn't. Though I am starting to consider it." Especially since Ramona, Remy's dog that had first shown up on my porch, had started coming to my door every night, scratching to be let in, then would run in, pounce on my bed, and fall asleep at the foot, snoring like a chainsaw. "These belong to a friend of mine."
Patrick: A boyfriend? Did you get a boyfriend?
KitKatTalksBack: Again, Patty Boy, we must reiterate—mind your own business.
"No," I said, shaking my head. "I didn't get a boyfriend. This is just a fri—"
"Woman," Huck's voice called from outside my door, making me realize I forgot to lock it, to tell anyone I was live. And I was starting to know Huck enough to know that he was the type to open closed doors without thinking twice. "I thought we agreed you'd bring your pretty ass downstairs and discuss making me something to eat," he said, coming in the room, walking right over to me without even thinking twice. "Oh, you're on a video," he said, coming up behind my chair, putting his arm on either armrest. And if I were an outsider watching, I would likely think that his actions were very possessive, the kind of thing a boyfriend did.
KitKatTalksBack: Oh.
PizzaSlut20: Yeah, okay, liar.
Patrick: He probably treats you like shit.
"Jesus Christ. This is what you want to spend your time on?" Huck asked, leaning forward to watch the feed scroll—a mix of praise from the women and derision from the men.
"Tell them you're not my boyfriend," I demanded, a part of me worrying that viewership would be impacted if they started to think I was lying to them.
"Seems to me they need to think you got someone protecting you," he said, low enough that the mic wouldn't pick it up.
"Huck, please," I demanded, turning to look back at him, knowing there was desperation in my face, and not really even caring about my pride.
Learning that I could make money from gaming had been a saving grace in my life. I'd struggled to be able to keep a normal job. First, because of the epilepsy. Sure, they couldn't actually outwardly discriminate against me once they found out, but they sure could find other reasons to fire me and hire someone they saw as less of a liability. And then, secondly, because if it required me getting in a car to get there, it just wasn't going to happen.
It all limited my job prospects. And it would be even harder now, living outside of the city.
I needed this job, as unconventional as it was, with the strange little rules that came with it. Like coming to the camera looking decent. Like engaging with people who could sometimes be pretty cruel. Like, apparently, never letting my fanbase know that I was in a relationship.
"I'm not her man," Huck declared. "But I think you're all dickheads regardless," he said, and I had to press my lips together to keep from laughing.
Patrick: If he's not your boyfriend, why is he there?
"She's here actually. At my place," Huck explained.
"I'm having an issue with my house," I clarified. "I'm just crashing here for a few days, maybe a week, while it all gets ironed out."
ChrisAgainstHumaity: He looks at her like he's fucking her.
KitKatTalksBack: How would you know? Judging by your pic, no one has ever fucked you.
I chose to ignore their side conversation, focusing on my narrative, wanting to guide the conversation back to something tamer.
"I am repaying the favor of staying here by cooking for the household."
"She didn't come and wake me up for breakfast," Huck said, adding some more validity to my comment. "Everyone else ate it. So she owes me."
Patrick: Everyone else?
"Yeah, it is a house where a couple of my friends live," I said, knowing the term "friend" was stretching the truth a bit, but it was the easiest explanation.
KitKatTalksBack: Did you eat anything? You're looking skinny.
PizzaSlut20: All tits and ass and nothing in between. She's perfect.
UnBeLeafAble: Did you make anything good?
HallowedHallie: Hey, we learn something new everyday about our girl. She can cook. And she has really, really hot friends.
"I like your fans, Harm," Huck decided, grinning at the camera for Hallie.
"Of course you do," I shot back, shaking my head.
WheelyWheelyAwesome: Show us your tits.
There was always one in every live section, in every discussion under a video. It was the nature of the beast that was putting yourself in front of the public eye online. The incels came out in force.
"Know what's fucked about this?" Huck asked, charging on before I could ask him to please shut up. "If we were out in a bar and you said that to my friend here, I could knock a couple teeth out of your mouth," he said, sounding disappointed that he was missing that opportunity.
HallowedHallie: Oh, he's the type to defend your honor too? Swoon. Is Huck single?
"Ah, yeah," I said, finding the words left an oddly bitter taste on my tongue.
"Alright. Before the whole chat falls in love with me, I will head out," Huck said, chuckling in that way that made my stomach feel wobbly. "I am going to go and take a swim," he added, smirking as the girls were quick to send drooling emojis. "Hey, maybe I should get myself a channel," Huck said as the comments kept coming.
"Oh, for the love of God. I will make you anything you want to eat if you just please leave, so I can get back to my game," I said, exasperated.
But only I knew what I was upset about.
All the thirst toward Huck.
As if I had any right to him.
Especially after practically rejecting him.
"Did you all hear that? Anything I want. Hold her to that," Huck said, moving to stand upright.
As he lifted his hands from the armrests, his fingers grazed up my forearm in a way that seemed too deliberate to be an accident.
But it was over before I got a chance to analyze it.
And then he was out of the room, and I could hear him a floor below telling everyone to keep it down because "Harmon is working."
There was a strange skittering feeling in my chest listening to him.
Maybe because it was the first time I'd ever heard anyone else refer to my gaming and taping as "work." Everyone always brushed it off as a hobby or a pastime, something inconsequential, something I could start and stop on a dime.
HallowedHallie: Oh, I miss him already.
MissiontoMayberry: Bunch of thirsty-ass bitches in here tonight.
Okay.
I needed to get control back over this comment section.
And stop thinking about freaking Huck.
The former proved easy enough once the game got going.
As I signed off and got up from my chair, I had a sobering realization.
I was going to be sleeping with Huck.
There was no way around it.
And that meant I was going to do something I'd never had to do in my life before.
Beg for it.
Chapter Eight
Huck
I couldn't stop thinking about those dickheads talking to her in that chat.
Sure, I played it down, focused on the supportive women she seemed to have around as well, but the assholes were on my mind as I went downstairs, as I caught myself trying to overhear her one-sided conversation with them, as I considered logging in to listen and watch myself along with all the others until, eventually, I realized what a fucking pussy I was being, and took my ass outside to dive into the pool, doing laps until my arms and lungs were burning .
It wasn't my fucking business how men talked to her online. She wasn't mine. I didn't want a woman to be mine.
Huck Page 8