Carter
The sound of incessant ringing wakes me from some of the best sleep I’ve had in a long time. At first, I’m confused and disoriented. I’m not alone in my bed. That’s never happened.
Then I remember everything that happened earlier tonight. Ashley.
She told me she loves me. And that she’s willing to wait for me to get through the last agonizing weeks of this reality show. A show I’m quickly starting to resent now that it’s affecting parts of my life that actually matter. Namely, my relationship with Ash.
The doorbell rings again and again, and finally I drag myself away from Ashley’s warm body and pull on some boxer briefs as I head out of my room and into the living room. Pulling open the front door, I’m surprised to find Chase standing there.
I rub my eyes and run my hand through my hair.
“Dude. What are you doing here? It’s got to be—” I glance around, looking for a clock, “—fuck, it’s three in the morning.” What could possibly be so important that he had to come over in the middle of the fucking night? All I want to do right now is crawl back in bed with Ashley and pull her soft, sexy body into mine.
“Hey.” Chase gives me a smirk, one I’m becoming all too familiar with. Fucking hell, what now? I swear, I thought the guy was my friend. Like really my buddy. But he’s been getting way too much pleasure lately out of telling me all the ways I can’t get off. I have a sinking feeling he’s here for more of the same.
“Fuck, Chase, can this wait until morning? I mean, really.” I start to shut the door, but he reaches a hand out and pushes back.
“Sorry, man,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “This has to be done now.”
“Whatever,” I mumble, stepping away from the door and walking toward the couch where I collapse and rest my elbows on my thigh, giving him an expectant stare. Might as well get this over with.
“So,” he begins, “that was some really great TV. Awesome, man. Truly. The ratings were through the roof. I don’t think we’ve had more people viewing the show live…well, ever.”
“Great.” I throw my hands up in the air. “What’s the problem then? We’re giving them what they want, right? I’m being tempted like I never have before. And I’m fucking falling in love, but can’t have sex with the woman of my dreams. It’s perfect, right? I don’t get it. What else could you possible want?”
He shakes his head. “Not me, man. Lola. You know that bitch is crazy.”
Sure the fuck is. I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. I can’t stand working for her anymore. I can’t wait until this contract is up. But I guess I shouldn’t hate on her too much. If it weren’t for this show—and her manipulations behind the scenes that I’m only now fully starting to see—I wouldn’t have met Ash. And I can’t regret that.
“Just spit it out, Chase. I need to get back to bed. I have a hot little woman keeping it warm for me.”
Chase presses his lips together. “That’s what I’m here about. It’s why you have to know now—before you go back to bed.”
Fuck. It’s going to be bad, I can feel it.
“Out with it already,” I growl.
“No more oral.”
At first I think I’ve misheard. Like, I literally take my hand to my ear and pull at my earlobe. “Sorry, what?”
Chase nods. “Yeah. You heard me right. You can no longer have oral sex.”
I want to laugh at the absurdity of it—I mean the fucking show is called Head Hunter for fuck’s sake—but I know he’s not joking. And it’s no joking matter.
The thought of going seven more weeks without Ashley’s warm, perfect mouth on my cock has me feeling like I might go out of my mind. That was all we had left, really. No sex, no anal, no jerking off. Now no oral either? It’s like a sick joke. Fucking Lola. This is her scheme; I just know it. Anything she can do to push me to my limits to get me to screw up. Well, fuck her. Not this close to the finish line.
“This is ridiculous, I hope you know that,” I say, pointing my finger at Chase. I know it’s not his idea, but I can’t help feeling like I want to shoot the messenger just a little.
“Carter, if you love Ashley like you just declared on national television, no more head. The Head Hunter is officially sidelined.”
“How can that even be a thing?” I protest, grasping at straws. “I mean, it’s the name of the fucking show. It’s what people tune in for. It’s what they expect.”
He shakes his head. “Not anymore. Things have changed. You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff popping up on forums on the Internet. It’s trending on Facebook and Twitter. People love you and Ashley, don’t get me wrong, but they’re all taking bets to see if you guys can make it the rest of the season.”
“We can,” I assert.
We have to. A whole hell of a lot is riding on this.
Chase stands and makes for the door, turning back at the last second with a genuine sympathetic smile. At least he’s not a total douche. Somewhere under there is the guy who usually has my back. “Good luck, man.”
“Thanks. I’m going to need it,” I mutter, closing the door behind him and dropping my forehead against the frame, knocking against it a few times for good measure.
Because FML. I can’t masturbate, have anal, or get head for seven more weeks? There’s nothing left other than actually having sex. How the hell am I going to make it that long?