Eyes on Me (Salacious Players’ Club)

Mia

“I love it,” I say with a smile, posing in front of the camera for Gregg as he proudly admires the shimmery metallic-looking fabric of my dress. It’s a dress for a stripper, literally. I’m not even being facetious. This literally came from a shop for pole dancers and performers, but he doesn’t know the difference. To him, skimpy dresses on women is more natural than a suit on a rich man.

“It looks beautiful on you. I’m so glad you like it.”

“I do. And it’s good to see you smiling like that.”

“Then, don’t leave,” he replies, and my fake smile falters.

“I wish I didn’t have to, but I have class in fifteen minutes. We can have a real chat later maybe.”

It’s a lie. I don’t have a class. In fact, I don’t have anything, but I’m forced to make up lies to cover up the fact that I can’t seem to do this anymore. Whether it’s for Drake or Garrett, I don’t really know. I just know that until I figure out who I’m with—if I’m even with either of them—I can’t get naked for men on the internet. That’s something I should discuss with them first.

If only I could bring it up with them.

He made it very clear yesterday before we left that things between us were done. It was just physical anyway. Playing, as he called it. Even if he is avoiding the truth that sometimes it felt like more than playing.

It was fun, but it was also…something real. There was a connection there. Real chemistry that I have never felt with a man before. And I know he felt it too. But Garrett is afraid of commitment, and he seems to have it in his head that he’s not cut out for relationships. He gave up on us before there was an us.

And it’s hard to make Drake a realistic priority in my life when I’ve never even seen his face before, and he’s clearly hiding something from me. If he didn’t have a secret, then why wouldn’t he video chat with me? Show me photos of himself? How come he can express these deeply personal secrets but he can’t let me see him? It doesn’t change the fact that I feel a connection with him that I don’t feel with Garrett. As if they both give me something different, and if they could just morph into one person, they’d be perfect.

“I’m proud of you for going back to school, sweetheart,” Gregg replies, distracting me from my complicated thoughts.

“Thanks, baby. I’m really excited about it.”

Lies, lies, lies.

“Send me more pictures when you have some free time. I miss you.”

I smile at him, leaning close to the camera. “I miss you too.”

Then, we hang up. I flop onto the couch in the basement of my parents’ house, and I let the feeling of guilt wash over me as I accept Gregg’s payment for the hour-long chat—plus tip. I didn’t even show him my tits. I can’t keep doing this.

I either need to stop worrying about Garrett and Drake and get back to work, or I need to quit entirely.

Both sound awful.

Before closing the app, I get a text from Drake.

I hope you’re having a beautiful day, Kitten. I miss your smile.

I smile down at the phone as I type out my reply.

Want to video chat?

I’m at work.

Hang on. Let me close the door.

I laugh as I wait for him to respond. Then without warning, I get an incoming video call request. I quickly hit Accept as I lay on the couch, putting my phone in the holder on the coffee table.

“Hi, baby,” I greet him as the other line picks up.

He has his camera turned off but his microphone on, which is fine by me since it’s the sound of his voice I want to hear anyway.

“Are you in your office?” I ask.

“Mh-hm,” he replies, his voice a deep, gravelly tone.

“I wish I was there with you,” I say, feeling a little emotionally raw at the moment.

“Tell me what you would do if you were here,” he whispers into the speaker, and my spine lights up sending a thrill through my entire body.

My smile broadens as I stretch on the couch, letting my dress ruche up my legs until my thong is visible. Then I let my imagination wander as I think about all the things we could do if we were together.

“I want you to bend me over your desk and hold me there while you do whatever you want to me. Touch me, kiss me, bite me, fuck me. Until I can’t take it anymore. I want to fuck until we are so spent and tired that we can’t even stand. I want more than just one hour, Drake. I want a thousand of them. And I want all of them with you.”

He growls into the speaker. “Oh, Kitten.”

“Are you hard for me, Drake?”

“Yes, Kitten.”

There’s something in his tone that strikes me as familiar, and I pause. Something that reminds me of…

No. My mind is playing tricks on me. Garrett would never do this. It would take way too much vulnerability. Not just the video chatting but the deep conversations and talking about emotions. He would never. Sometimes, I wish he would.

Just in time to distract me from my thoughts, I hear him unzip his slacks and then he mutters,“Use a toy, Kitten.”

Like he read my mind, I quickly reach into the drawer of the coffee table and retrieve a small rose petal-shaped vibrator. Its hum is nearly silent as I turn it on, and he growls again when he sees it.

It’s a good thing I’m the only one home because the moment the sucking sensation of the vibrator hits my clit, I cry out. It’s a delicious buzz that sends a thrill all the way down to my toes.

“This won’t take long, Drake. I hope you’re ready,” I say in a breathless pant while I squirm on the couch.

He grunts and groans to the sounds of his fist stroking his cock, and I let the sounds fill my imagination, and my climax washes me away. Judging by the sounds he’s making, he’s coming too.

His heavy breaths and some music is the background is all I can hear as I recline on the couch and wait for my heartbeat to slow down.

“Drake, I don’t know how long I can do this,” I say, the words slipping through before I can stop them. I have no filter moments after I orgasm apparently.

“Do what?” he asks.

“This. Whatever this is. I like you. Maybe…more. But I’m so afraid you’re going to break my heart. At some point, you have to let me into your life.”

“I know…” he mumbles, his tone despondent. And the sadness in his voice doesn’t make me feel any better. In fact it sounds…hopeless. As if there’s nothing he can do about it, and I’m doomed to feel like this forever. Or at least until it ends. Whatever he has going on in his life, I will never be a priority.

“I’m in love with two men who don’t want me,” I whisper, and I really have no idea where the fuck that came from. Tears swell in my eyes as I quickly sit up and fix my dress. I can’t believe I just said that. I’m humiliated, and the other end of the line is silent for too long.

“Kitten…” he whispers.

“I have to go. I’m sorry. I just think…I’m under a lot of stress. I need to think.”

“Please, don’t—” he says, but I click the red End Call button before he can beg me to stay or feed me lies. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

I need to get out of here or do something because the more I sit here and think about how sad I am to possibly lose Drake or Garrett, the more I know I’ll cry, and I’m not going to do that. I’m not shedding tears for men that don’t shed tears for me.

Glancing down at the clock, I see it’s almost nine. I feel like a bomb about to explode, and I need to vent out these frustrations. There’s only one person I can think of at the moment who I want to see, and I may not know where to find him, but I know I can figure it out.