Watching her own joy on screen didn’t alarm Sasha or make her feel embarrassed like she thought it would. In fact, it aroused her. She felt the wetness grow between her legs as she remembered what Thomas had done to her body, of the things he’d made her feel. She slid her fingers down to her clit, as she watched Thomas sink to his knees and pull her panties down to her ankles.
Touching herself now reminded her of the feel of his tongue on her clit, of the way he licked her like an ice cream, so gently, so precisely, as though savoring the taste of her. Her eyes widened, as she watched Thomas slide his fingers into her and the way she responded by pulling her knees up either side of his head and flopping backwards onto her elbows. Her body responded in the real world, too, by heating up, throbbing, wanting more. She began rubbing herself faster.
Sasha watched herself climax on-screen, throwing her head back and crying out. It looked amazing and brought the memory rushing back to her, edging her closer towards an orgasm in real life.
She could hardly tear her eyes away from the sight of Thomas rising to his feet and using his fingers and thumb to bring her racing towards another immediate climax on-screen. She watched herself remove her dress and bra and lay—completely naked and willing—in front of Thomas. Her fingers began to move quicker against her clitoris, as she realized she was racing towards a real life orgasm.
Then she watched the moment Thomas slowly ran his tongue across her nipple. It had been enough to push her over the edge back then, and it was enough to do so again today.
Her body quivered and spasmed, as the climax hit her hard and fast. She threw her head back, reveling in the sensation. Thomas Lloyd could still make her orgasm—even when he wasn’t in the same country as her.
Her orgasm faded, and she tipped her eyes back to the screen to see her past-self slumped forward into the arms of Thomas Lloyd. Jealousy bit her. She watched the screen enviously, as Thomas slung his arms around her ass, pulling her into him like a prized possession, and her legs circled around his waist, as though never wanting to let him go. She watched, as he carried her out of shot to what she remembered as one of the most amazing moments of her life.
However, in the real world, Sasha was completely alone. There was no Thomas to hold her in her afterglow. There was just her, in her dark bedroom, alone.
Chapter Twenty Four
Feeling lonely and ashamed, Sasha was about to shut down her laptop when she saw something that made her stop. Through the blur of filthy, disgusting, and downright abusive messages beneath the video, one comment struck Sasha. It was from a user called ‘Mrs. Lloyd.’ It said: ‘Once I find out where that woman lives, I’m going to decapitate her.’
Sasha remembered a similar comment that Thomas had shown her once before. She was certain it was from the same user. It had said: ‘Whoever that bitch is, I’m going to cut her head off with a rusty chainsaw. Thomas is mine.’
Sasha felt cold all over. Though the original message had rattled her, she’d felt somewhat safe with Thomas. He had security and drivers and a team of people to look out for him. But now she was alone, and a total stranger wanted her dead. How could someone get so wrapped up in someone else’s life—a person they’d never even met—to such an extent that they wanted to harm them?
The more Sasha looked, the more she saw threatening comments from the same user. They popped up on every spin-off article on Chit-Chat, on every YouTube reposting of the original video, even on previous videos of Thomas Lloyd from way before Sasha had even met him. ‘Mrs. Lloyd’ had made her online presence known in the comments section of every single article, picture, and video of Thomas Lloyd on the internet. That meant she was more than just a fan, she was a stalker. Her comments also appeared progressively angrier and more threatening. One said: ‘I’m going to hunt you down and make you suffer.’
Sasha slammed her laptop shut. Her heart was racing. Without the electronic blue glow, she plunged into total darkness.
She lay back on her bed, trembling. She had to remind herself that it was just bravado, that it was probably just some pathetic person feeling powerful behind the protective anonymity of the internet. But what if they did hunt her down? Chris had made it clear that he and Sasha were high school sweethearts. If he blabbed about which high school that was, it wouldn’t take long to narrow down which town Sasha grew up in. That she’d returned to her roots to escape the media circus was inevitable. She might as well have left a trail of breadcrumbs.
Suddenly, Sasha was gripped by anxiety. Had she put her mom in danger by returning to her home? Should she leave just in case? But if she did, where could she go? She’d already written to the landlord of her Chicago apartment, saying she was breaking her lease and moving out. There was nowhere else to go, no one else to whom she could turn. Unless…