Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 84289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Jesus, Niko.”
“I will never post them. But if you’re worried, I’ll still film you in a way that’s completely anonymous, so that no identifying videos of you will ever exist. You don’t have any tattoos. You have no identifying birthmarks or piercings or anything that would be obvious from the waist down. You can wear a mask, but I won’t even film your face.”
“Your personal fucking collection,” he says, shaking his head a little. “Why would you want videos of me?”
“You realize you have a perfect body, right? Your cock, from what I felt. Your ass. Your biceps… I don’t need to enjoy you as a person to be able to appreciate how you look.”
“What makes you think I want you to film me?”
I get up from his bed and cross the room until I’m in front of him. I reach out and put my palm on his cock again through his pants.
“Look how hard you are again, just from the suggestion.”
He exhales and his breath is so sweet.
He smells like the orange drink he just had. I keep my palm on his erection, not squeezing, just feeling how hard he is.
“So what if I liked it? Doesn’t mean you deserve to have some collection of videos of me.”
I drop my hand from his cock and I swear he involuntarily moves forward again, just a little, because he misses my touch.
“You’ll love it. And the first time I take your ass, I’m definitely going to want it on camera.”
6
Oliver
Oliver, scrolling through Niko’s feed, this morning at 9:00am
Username: Hercules2210
I feel like I’ve unlocked a different universe.
I know these photos, these videos, so well.
From looking at them secretly, in my room late at night, or from sneaking a peek at CamboyChaos during History class when I damn well know I shouldn’t.
When I look at his cock now, I’m in disbelief.
That cock has been inside me.
Deep-throated me.
And it looked even better in person.
It’s less than 24 hours before I realize Niko isn’t going to do any of this my way.
He starts posting pictures of us on his public profile the next morning, after coming up behind me and grabbing a selfie of the two of us in Onyx House kitchen.
He’s already trying to lay the groundwork for our budding “relationship.”
He asks me to join him for lunch a few hours later. Demands that I get lunch with him, actually, to talk about our plans.
He’s a whore for social media to begin with, but from the moment we agreed to each other’s terms, he’s already been making it his little pet project to craft a believable public story.
I meet with him in the Kettle, the smaller dining hall on campus, and I feel like I’m trying to contain wildfire.
“I just got to the Crimson campus, so nobody would buy that we’re boyfriends already,” he tells me from across the table before we’ve even sat down.
I reach over and push on his shoulder. “Shh. Keep your fucking voice down.”
He looks at me like I’m insane. “Nobody’s going to hear, Ollie.”
The Kettle is busy today, though. The dining hall is styled like a tavern, with thick wooden beams along the ceiling and walls and pendant lights above each table.
Students are walking in every direction with trays full of food, talking and laughing. Usually, it’s the coziest place on campus.
With Niko around, it’s practically overstimulating.
Or maybe Niko just makes me feel that stimulated no matter where I am.
“You underestimate the Crimson gossip mill. Last thing we need is someone catching wind of this being fake and spreading the rumor at lightning speed.”
He rolls his eyes at me.
I watch him push up the sleeves of his crisp white hoodie, revealing the colorful tattoos on his forearms.
I notice a small tattoo of a knife, a bigger one of some sort of orange flower, and a tiny black cat, but there are more that wrap around that I can’t make out.
It’s strange to be across the table from him.
His hair looks messy in that typical model way that manages to look perfect, and his cheekbones are even more prominent under the pendant light above the table. He has one silver piercing at the top of one ear, and his necklace hangs at the front of his hoodie.
You always were so much fucking cooler than me.
Exuding confidence and sex appeal like an aura around you.
And now I’m sitting here, brought into your orbit.
I force myself to stop staring at him as he sets his phone down on the tabletop between us.
He shows me what he’s planning to post.
“This is a perfect picture,” he explains. “It’s casual.”
It’s a photo of us that he just took a minute ago, where he’s looking at the camera, sipping on a glass bottle of cherry soda while I stand at the edge of the table with my food tray in front of me.