Pretty Dirty (Dirty Bad Things Book 2)(3)

Yes.

“Alice” rolled her eyes. “What if I’m busy? Or what if I have another job?”

Does it pay $17k a week?

She grinned.

And if you’re busy, get un-busy.

“This is actually insane, you know.” She shook her head at me, hands playing with the edge of the small, lacy black robe she was wearing. “Who spends fifty-thousand on a cam girl?”

Me.

That got another grin.

“And what should I call you, oh master for the next three weeks?”

I feel like you still think I’m kidding.

That grin again.

“No, I’m pretty sure you’re crazy enough to be serious about this.”

Good guess.

“So what should I call you? You really want me to say ‘Big Daddy Vegas’?”

I’d started to chuckle to myself, when she’d raked her teeth over her bottom lip, and looked right at the camera.

“Or maybe I should just say ‘Big Daddy’?”

My cock twitched.

“Or how about,” she’d purred the words, leaning close to the screen and letting her robe open just enough to get a glimpse of her black lace bra and the sensual lines of ink tracing down between her tits.

“How about I just call you daddy?”

My cock turned to stone in seconds, and she’d smirked at my lack of answer.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” she’d purred. “So, when do we begin, daddy?”

Now.

My cock was straining at my zipper, aching to be free and aching for release.

Right now, I’d typed, groaning at the way her face had flushed.

“What do you want me to do, daddy?” Her voice was all fire and heat, her eyes blazing something wicked at me right through the camera Take off the robe, spread your legs, and show me that pretty little pussy.

Her breath caught.

Show me how wet you are.

Alice had swallowed, her cheeks flushing and her legs squeezing together, before slowly, she’d nodded, and reached for the edge of her robe.

“You wanna see my pussy, daddy?”



A shadow crosses the camera, and suddenly, she’s moves in front of it.

“Hi, Lewis,” she purrs it out, the heat in her eyes swirling like smoke.

Lewis. As in Lewis Carroll, author of Alice In Wonderland. I mean, it goes with “Alice,” and it’s not like she could call me daddy all the time.

And she’s been waiting for this too. No, I’m not one of those guys who deludes themselves into thinking the stripper is “really into them,” but this is different. There’s no actress in the world that could fake a look with that kind of lust behind it. My Alice enjoys doing what I ask, I can see that plain as day. I can see it in the way her breath still catches and her cheeks still flush when I tell her something particularly dirty. But she does it, and I’m beginning to suspect that it’s not entirely about the money.

Hey pretty girl.

She smiles, those white teeth raking over her bottom lip as she settles on her bed in front of the camera. She’s on her side, and when her black silk robe falls open, I catch a glimpse of the half-translucent, lacy white lingerie underneath. I groan, my cock throbbing rock hard at the sight. I fucking love white on her. Something about the purity of it against her inked skin gets a fire going inside of me.

“Hey daddy,” she says, her face glowing and her voice husky.

I growl, reaching for my cock. Alice begins to slide her robe off, and the blood starts to roar in my ears, when suddenly, there’s a crashing sound.

Alice goes white.

“Oh, fuck, I—” She starts to scramble from the bed, and I find myself lurching to me feet as well. There’s the sound of a man yelling, and my blood runs hot.

“Lewis, I have to go—”

“You little fucking bitch!”

Alice screams as the camera lurches to the side and a man lunges into the frame. I snarl, my hands closing into iron-gripped fists.

“Goddamnit! Fuckin’ whore!”

“I’m on camera!”

My blood turns to molten steel in my veins. My eyes lose focus of everything around me except what’s on the screen in front of me.

She’s in trouble. My base, caveman instinct is to protect her — to protect what’s mine. I want to jump through the fucking screen and wrap my hands around this asshole’s neck until he stops fucking breathing. But knowing I’m totally powerless right now has me ready to tear my skin off.

The man grabs her, and this time, I do roar out loud. He shakes her, heedless of her screams, before he shoves her back across the bed.

“I don’t give a fuck if you’re on camera, you fucking bitch.”

He grabs her again, and it’s like a blade slicing through my heart as I watch him haul back and slap her across the face. I scream in rage, picking up a coffee mug from my desk and hurling it at the wall. The man grabs her again, shaking her before he shoves her away, sending her crashing into her bedside table.

Crashing.

Crash.

I don’t hear it through my computer speakers, I hear it with my own fucking ears. I hear it through my floor, from the apartment below me, and suddenly, the world goes still.

Alice isn’t just “somewhere” in the world, on the internet.