Owner of a billion-dollar porn industry behemoth, Kane did right by me; instead of treating me as a rival and shutting me down, he straight up bought my business. I was 24 years old and had enough money to retire for good.
For a few days I contemplated moving somewhere next to the beach and sipping on margaritas until I grew old and wrinkled. I took a two-week vacation in the Bahamas, but I grew tired of that hedonistic lifestyle quick enough. I grabbed a plane out of there and came back to New York, ready for another business venture.
Kinky Amy’s—does it ring a bell? It’s my new company slash club slash studio, and it’s on 43rd and 8th Avenue. And I probably don’t need to tell you that it’s all about sex. I mean, hell, the name’s Kinky Amy’s, not Prude Amy’s.
It’s basically a sex club with a specific department devoted to filming. I run what’s called an online peep show, and it’s blowing everyone else out of the water. Ethan Kane has once again offered to buy me out, but this time I decided against it. I love money, sure, but I need to keep busy. What the hell am I supposed to do all day if I’m not working?
Anyway, so that’s where I am right now, and this is my private office. The new huge cameras outside are my latest investment, and let me tell you: they were expensive. But I guess that if I want to keep on thriving in this business, I have to invest in top-of-the-line stuff, right? Always go for the best; that’s my motto in this business, and you can rest assured that I’m talking about more than just video cameras.
That’s why the shirtless model out there was as hot as a supernova. Square chin, washboard abs, and a delicious smile—you know, the works. That’s why I love my company. Where else would I have the chance to work in a place packed with scorching hot men? Yes, I love hot men and I’m not ashamed of it, not one bit. Why would I be? It’s not like I live in the 19th century, even though there are still some assholes that’d prefer women to wear chastity belts all the time. Thank you very much, but I’ll pass.
God, just thinking of hot men makes the gears inside my head start turning. And when that happens, I know exactly what I need.
Picking up my Kindle from one of the drawers, I prop my feet up on the desk and lean back against my chair. I power the Kindle up and launch Pierce Me, one hell of a steamy book by Simone Sowood. Oh, you haven’t read it yet?
It’s coming. She just sends it to me first because I’m just so awesome.
It’s surprising how fast I go through these books. As busy as I am, I should be reading one or two books per year… but I just can’t stop reading these dirty books. It’s like an addiction. The sweetest kind of addiction.
I pick up right where I left off, right before one steamy scene, and let my eyes wander over the words on the screen. Too bad perfect men only exist in Book Land; I wouldn’t mind having the power to just snap my fingers and make one of these men pop up into the real world.
And, God, why does Simone have to write so well? Seriously, two pages in one of these sexy scenes and my thong's already sticking to my skin. Okay, I need some action, and I need it right now.
I place my Kindle on the desk and jump up to my feet. I walk straight to the door and, opening it just a crack, I stick my neck out. “Justin!” I call out, and a few heads at the end of the room turn toward me. The production crew is having lunch on a makeshift table at the end of the studio and Justin, the model, is sitting with them.#p#分页标题#e#
“You need me?” he asks, jumping up to his feet. There’s an eager expression on his face, and I can’t help but smile at that. Justin has been eyeing me since his first day of work here, and today’s his lucky day.
“Yeah, I need you. Get in here,” I tell him, and then take a few steps back as I wait for him to walk across the studio. He swings the door open hesitantly, and then shuts it behind him.
“What is it?” he asks me, trying hard to avoid staring at my cleavage, but failing miserably.
“I’m bored,” I say with a coy smile, opening the top button on my blouse. His eyes widen and he smiles hesitantly, this time completely entranced by my breasts.
“I … I can help with that,” he tells me, taking one careful step toward me. God, would it hurt for him to be more assertive? Seriously, what’s wrong with men today? Even the handsome ones seem to walk on eggshells around me. Am I that intimidating?
“You sure can,” I whisper, reaching for him and hooking my fingers on his belt. I pull him into me, eager to get him out of his clothes and show him what a real woman can do.