Chapter 1: Chapter 1
The trailer hummed with the low thrum of the air conditioner, struggling against the afternoon heat that bled through the thin metal walls. Kris sat back in his worn office chair, boots propped on the corner of his desk, laptop open in front of him. The safety reports could wait. The scheduling spreadsheet could wait. Everything could wait except the buzz of his phone against the scarred wood, vibrating in a rhythm he knew as well as his own heartbeat.
Jessie had been at it all morning.
He glanced at the screen, careful to angle it away from the open door. A picture. Of course. She was stretched out on their bed, the one they'd picked together from the catalog, the one with the dark grey headboard she'd insisted on because it would photograph well. She wore that thin white tank top, the one that had seen better days and clung to every curve like it had a personal grudge against modesty. The camera angle caught the swell of her breasts, the shadow of her nipples pressing against the worn cotton, the tease of skin at her hip where the fabric rode up.
His blood ran hot. His cock stirred against his jeans, thickening with every second he stared.
He typed back with one thumb, keeping his expression neutral.
I nearly opened that in front of the admin. Almost got caught.
The reply came almost instantly. A little laugh emoji, then words that made his jaw tighten.
I hope you get caught baby haha. Maybe she'd like to see what you're working with.
Kris exhaled slowly through his nose, shifting in his chair to adjust the growing pressure in his pants. The woman had no shame. No restraint. And he loved her for exactly that reason.
The printer in the corner of the trailer whirred to life, spitting out a stack of invoices he needed to sign off on before the suppliers called again. He pushed himself up from the desk, crossing the small space toward the machine, and that's when he heard the click of heels on the metal steps outside.
Sophie appeared in the doorway, a stack of folders balanced against her chest, her sharp copper bob swinging as she stepped inside. She wore the same crisp white shirt as this morning, though she'd unbuttoned one more button since he'd last seen her, and the grey pencil skirt hugged her hips like it had been painted on.
"Afternoon, boss," she said, her green eyes bright with that particular mischief she seemed to carry everywhere. "Got those delivery manifests you wanted. And the updated insurance paperwork from head office."
"Just put them on the desk," Kris said, keeping his voice steady. He turned back to the printer, bending to retrieve the invoices, acutely aware of the way his work jeans strained across his thighs.
Sophie didn't move toward the desk right away. Instead, she drifted closer, her heels clicking on the plywood floor, and he heard the soft rustle of folders being set down. Her hand landed on the back of his chair, fingers tracing the worn leather in a slow, deliberate motion that made the hairs on his neck stand up.
"Long day?" she asked, her voice light, conversational. "You seem a little distracted."
Kris straightened, invoices in hand, and turned to face her. She was closer than he'd expected, close enough that he could smell her perfume, something floral and young, a world away from the ozone and dust that clung to everything else on this site. Her eyes dropped for just a fraction of a second, scanning down his body, and he saw the corner of her mouth twitch.
She'd noticed. Of course she'd noticed. The bulge in his jeans was impossible to miss, straining against the denim like it was trying to escape.
"No more than usual," he said, his voice flat, professional. He stepped around her, putting the desk between them, and settled back into his chair. "The manifests go in the blue folder. Insurance can wait until Monday."
Sophie lingered by the desk, one hand resting on her hip, her head tilted in that way that made her look younger than her twenty-two years. "You know," she said slowly, "if you ever need to, I don't know, take a break. Clear your head. My office is right next door."
"Noted," Kris said, pulling the keyboard toward him, letting his eyes fix on the screen. But the image of Jessie was still burned into his mind, and his cock was still hard, and Sophie was still standing there, watching him with those knowing green eyes.
She finally turned and walked toward the door, her hips swaying with just a little more emphasis than necessary. At the threshold she paused, glancing back over her shoulder.
"I'll leave the door open," she said. "In case you change your mind."
Then she was gone, her heels clicking down the metal steps and across the gravel toward the main office. Kris waited until the sound faded, then let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
His phone buzzed again.
He picked it up, thumb swiping across the screen. Another message from Jessie, this one a video thumbnail. He tapped it cautiously, keeping the volume low, and watched as she peeled off that white tank top in slow motion, her breasts spilling free, her mouth curving into that wicked smile she reserved just for him.
The trailer felt suddenly too small. Too hot. He loosened his belt, just a notch, letting his cock breathe against the denim.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard, then he typed.
She definitely noticed. You're going to get me fired.
Jessie's reply came through with a string of laughing emojis.
Then you'll have to come home and let me take care of you properly. Maybe I'll even let you watch me with someone else first. That new couple I found on the app, the trainer and his wife. They look like they'd be fun.
Kris stared at the message, his mouth going dry. He remembered Jessie mentioning the app, remembered her excitement about scrolling through profiles, but this was the first time she'd brought up a specific match.
He typed back slowly.
Send me their profile.
The dots appeared almost immediately, then disappeared. Then appeared again. Jessie was typing a long response, and Kris found himself leaning forward, heart hammering against his ribs.
Sophie's voice drifted through the open trailer door from somewhere across the yard, bright and laughing at something one of the crew had said. Kris barely heard it.
He was already somewhere else entirely.
The dots finally stopped. His phone buzzed once, then again, and a single image filled the screen.
A couple. Both of them fit, both of them confident, both of them radiating the kind of physical presence that made Kris sit up straighter in his chair. The man was a wall of muscle, heavy and dense, black ink crawling up his forearms and disappearing beneath the collar of a compression shirt. His jaw was square, his beard neat, his eyes sharp and assessing even through the static of a photograph. Beside him stood a blonde woman with a sharp pixie cut, athletic and taut, her arms crossed in a way that showed off her own tattoos. They stood close, touching at the hip, a matched set of physicality and intent.
Kris studied the image, then scrolled to the profile text beneath it. Felix and Nina. Both personal trainers. The description was direct, no games, listing their interests in that blunt, no-nonsense way that people on the app used when they knew exactly what they wanted.
His phone buzzed again. Jessie's message sat beneath the image.
What do you think?
Kris looked at the picture again. At the man's wide shoulders, at the woman's toned legs, at the way they seemed to radiate a kind of sexual confidence that felt both exhilarating and slightly dangerous. His cock stirred again, still half-hard from Jessie's earlier assault on his senses.
He typed his response.
They are hot.
The reply came fast.
Right? I've been talking to Nina all morning. She's feisty.
Kris grinned despite himself, the tension in his shoulders easing from something like professional restraint into something far more interesting. He typed back.
Send them a message. Tell them we're interested.
The dots appeared immediately. Jessie was already on it, of course she was, she'd probably been waiting for his approval this whole time. His phone went dark for a moment, and then lit up with a screenshot. Jessie's message to Nina, crafted with that particular blend of charm and directness she excelled at.
Hey, this is Jessie from the app. My partner Kris just saw your profile and we're both really intrigued. He's away for work right now, but I'd love to chat more. You two look like a lot of fun.
Underneath, Nina's response had already come through.
Well hello to you both. Felix is reading this over my shoulder and he's very interested. You look like you keep yourself in shape. What does Kris do?
Kris's fingers hovered over the keyboard. He picked up the phone and brought it close to his face, reading the exchange like it was the most important document he'd handled all week.
He's a construction superintendent, Jessie had replied. I've been driving him crazy with pictures so day
The pause before Nina's next message felt eternal, though it couldn't have been more than thirty seconds.
The pause stretched, and Kris watched the three dots pulse on his screen, his thumb tracing the edge of his phone. Then Nina's reply landed, bold and direct, no hedging.
Those pictures sound like they're worth seeing. Felix wants one. Send us something good and we'll send you something back. Fair trade.
Kris sat back in his chair, a slow smile spreading across his face. The heat in the trailer seemed to intensify, pressing against his skin. He could picture Jessie on their bed, phone in hand, reading that same message with that same wicked grin she got when a challenge was issued.
His phone buzzed. Jessie's voice came through in a string of rapid-fire texts.
They want a picture.
What do you think?
Should I send them one?
Kris read the messages, then typed his response, his thumbs moving with deliberate slowness.
Send one. The naughtier the pic, the more points you get.
The reply came back almost instantly, a string of laughing emojis followed by words that made his blood pump harder.
Points? You better be keeping track, superintendent. I'm going to hold you to that.
He watched the dots appear, disappear, appear again. Then his phone vibrated once, twice, three times, and a succession of images flooded the screen. She'd sent them all in one burst, three photos in rapid succession, and Kris's thumb hovered over the first for a long moment before he tapped it.
The image expanded to fill his screen. Jessie had clearly taken it in their bathroom, the one with the big mirror and the warm lighting she always complained about but secretly loved. She was bent over the counter, her hips angled back toward the camera, wearing nothing but a pair of black lace panties that were already pulled to one side. The camera caught the curve of her ass in perfect detail, the glistening evidence of how wet she'd gotten from their earlier exchange, and behind her, in the mirror's reflection, she'd captured her own face looking back over her shoulder, lips parted, eyes dark with intent.
His mouth went dry.
The second photo was even worse. She'd turned around, propped the phone on the sink, and taken a full-length shot. One hand cupped her breast, the other trailing down her stomach, fingers disappearing beneath the waistband of those ruined panties. Her nipples were hard, her skin flushed, and she'd angled the camera just right to catch every erotic detail she could offer.
The third photo made him grip the phone so hard the screen creaked. She was on the bed now, flat on her back, legs spread wide, panties discarded somewhere off frame. Her fingers were inside herself, two of them, and the camera caught everything, the perfect shaved smoothness of her, the way she'd spread herself open for the lens, the unmistakable evidence of her arousal glistening on her thighs.
He stared at the images for a long moment, his cock straining painfully against his jeans, his breathing shallow. Then he scrolled back to the first photo and studied it again, cataloging every detail, every shadow, every hint of the woman he loved and the body he couldn't touch right now.
His phone buzzed in his grip. Jessie again.
Sent them. They should have them now. God, I'm so wet I can barely type. This is so hot.
Kris let out a shaky breath, adjusting himself through his jeans with a grimace. The trailer felt like an oven, the air thick with dust and the ghost of her scent that he could almost imagine, almost taste.
He typed back, his fingers unsteady.
You're going to kill me.
Her response came with a string of emojis, hearts and fire and that little devil face she loved to use when she was feeling particularly pleased with herself.
Good. Then you'll be thinking about me even more.
Kris set his phone face-down on the desk for a moment, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying to compose himself. The invoices could wait. The manifests could wait. Everything could wait except the heat building in his blood and the knowledge that somewhere, miles away, his girl was spreading herself open for a couple of strangers they'd found on an app, and he was here, hard as stone in a metal box in the middle of nowhere.
His phone buzzed again, and he picked it up, expecting another message from Jessie. But this time, the name at the top of the screen was unfamiliar. A group chat had been created. The messages were already flowing.
Nina: God. Okay. That's a hell of an introduction.
Nina: Felix just about dropped his phone in the squat rack. He's reevaluating his whole workout plan now.
Felix: She said that's just a warm-up. If that's a warm-up, I'm going to need to clear my schedule.
Kris grinned despite the ache in his jeans. He typed into the group chat, his message feeling strangely formal compared to what had come before.
Glad you like the preview. Jessie has a way of making an impression.
Nina's reply came instantly.
An impression? My husband is trying to hide a hard-on in a gym full of people. I'd say she made more than an impression.
Felix: I'm telling you, this one's a keeper. Send our regards to Kris. Tell him his girl has excellent taste in underwear.
Kris huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. He looked down at his phone, at the group chat with three strangers who had just seen his girlfriend in a way that most people never would, and felt a strange cocktail of possessiveness and exhilaration swirling in his chest. Somewhere, a possessive part of him bristled at the thought of Felix and Nina watching those photos, studying her curves, cataloging her body with the same hungry attention he'd just given them. But another part, the part that had been texting with Jessie for months about fantasies and scenarios and the thrill of sharing, felt a hot pulse of excitement that made his head spin.
His phone buzzed with a private message from Jessie.
See? I told you they were fun. Felix is huge, by the way. Nina sent me a preview. I think you're going to have some competition.
Kris read the message twice, his jaw tightening. He typed back slowly.
Competition? I thought we were a team.
Her reply was quick, playful, laced with that particular mischief he knew so well.
We're a team. But teams share. And sometimes, the other team brings something special to the game.
He sat back in his chair, staring at the message, at the implications curling through it like smoke. Outside the trailer, he heard the distant rumble of machinery and the sharp bark of a foreman's voice, the sounds of his real world intruding on the fantasy taking shape in his mind. He looked down at his phone one more time, at the group chat waiting for his next move, and felt the sharp, dangerous thrill of standing on the edge of something he couldn't fully see yet.
He typed his reply to Jessie, his thumb moving before his mind had fully caught up.
Send me that preview. I want to know what I'm up against.
He waited, thumb hovering over the darkened screen. The trailer's air conditioner kicked on with a rattle, pushing a weak stream of cool air across his face, but it did nothing to ease the heat building beneath his skin.
The photo arrived with a single buzz. No preamble, no caption, just an image that expanded to fill his screen and stopped his breath in his throat.
Felix and Nina were sprawled across a bed with crisp white sheets, the kind of hotel room that smelled like expensive soap and fresh laundry. Nina lay on her side, propped on one elbow, her blonde pixie cut catching warm light from a window somewhere off frame. She wore nothing at all, her body lean and athletic, her small breasts tipped with dark nipples, her skin carrying a sheen of recent exertion. Her tattoos traced up her arm in sharp geometric lines, a stark contrast against the pale expanse of her body. She was smiling, that playful confident smile of someone who knew exactly what she was offering.
But it was Felix who drew Kris's eyes. The man lay on his back beside her, one arm bent behind his head, his chest a wide expanse of muscle and black ink that climbed from his forearms to his collarbone. His body was dense, heavy, built like someone who had spent a lifetime moving weight. His beard framed a jaw that looked like it had been carved from granite.
And in Nina's hand, resting against her stomach, his cock stood thick and heavy, fully erect, jutting upward like a monument. Her fingers barely closed around its girth.
Kris stared at the image, his mind struggling to process the proportions. He'd seen his share of porn, had traded pictures with Jessie that pushed boundaries they'd never crossed in person. But this was different. This was real. This was a man who looked like he could press Kris into the mattress with one hand and fuck his wife into oblivion with the other.
Nina held Felix's cock the way a person might present something precious, her thumb stroking the shaft with casual familiarity, and the sheer scale of it made Kris's own erection ache with a strange mixture of arousal and inadequacy. He scrolled the image, zooming in on the details, cataloging the veins, the flushed head, the way the weight of it seemed to pull against her grip.
His mouth was dry. His cock strained against his jeans, and he shifted in his chair, the rough denim rubbing against sensitive skin.
A new message popped up in the group chat.
Nina: You asked for a preview. Here's the full tour.
A second photo followed. Felix was sitting up now, knees spread wide on the hotel bed, his cock rising from the dark thatch of hair at his base, the head thick and flushed. Nina knelt beside him, her lips parted, her hand wrapped around his shaft, and the image captured the moment before she descended, her tongue just touching the swollen head.
Kris let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. His hand moved almost involuntarily to his jeans, palming himself through the rough material, trying to relieve the pressure building there.
A third photo appeared. Nina had taken Felix's cock into her mouth, her lips stretched wide around its girth, her eyes looking up at the camera with a knowing glint. Felix's head was tipped back, his jaw tight, his hand buried in her short hair.
Kris thumbed through the images again, then again, the screen's glow washing over his face in the dim trailer. The sounds of the work site faded into irrelevance. The invoices, the manifests, Sophie's lingering perfume, all of it dissolved into a distant haze.
His phone rang. Jessie's contact photo filled the screen, and he answered without thinking.
"Are you looking at them right now?" Her voice was low, breathless, that particular tone she got when she was already touching herself.
"Yeah, I'm looking," Kris said, his voice rough. "Jesus, Jess. That guy is fucking enormous."
"I know. Nina sent me a video before the pictures. I nearly dropped my phone."
Kris heard the soft rustle of sheets through the speaker, the faint, wet sound of fingers moving. His imagination filled in the gaps, picturing Jessie on their bed, her legs spread, her body flushed with arousal.
"She's got her mouth on him right now," Kris said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "In the picture. She's swallowing him whole."
"Oh God," Jessie breathed. "Tell me. Tell me what you're seeing."
Kris described it in detail, the image still glowing on his screen. The way Nina's lips stretched. The way Felix's hand twisted in her hair. The way his massive body tensed with every movement of her throat. His own voice grew thick as he spoke, his hand moving in his lap, stroking himself through his jeans with increasing urgency.
"And now he's got her on her back," Kris said, scrolling to a new image that had just appeared. "She's got her legs spread, and he's kneeling between them, and his cock is just resting against her. She's completely open. He's going to split her in half."
Jessie made a sound that was almost a whimper. "Damnit, I wish you were here. I wish you were inside me right now."
"Soon," Kris said, his voice ragged as he palmed himself harder. "Another week and I'm home. And when I get there, I'm going to wreck you."
The group chat buzzed with a new message from Felix, pointed and unapologetic.
Felix: She's sounding less like she's reviewing the merchandise and more like she's ready to try it on. That's the energy we like to hear.
Kris pulled the phone away from his ear, eyes flicking across the words. His hand stopped its rhythm, tension coiling in his chest. The photo on his screen suddenly felt less like a preview and more like direct competition. Part of him resented the other man's casual confidence; it felt like a gauntlet thrown down in the middle of what had begun as flirty fun.
But another part of him, the part that had spent a year thrilling to Jessie's ability to turn him on and off like a switch, felt something more primal flicker to life. The image burned in his mind, Felix's size undeniable, Nina's enthusiasm infectious. The thought of Jessie stretched wide around that cock made his head swim.
He pressed the phone back to his ear. "You still there?"
"I'm here," Jessie said, her voice breathless. "I'm so wet, Kris. I'm dripping onto the sheets."
"Then get your fingers inside you," he said, low and commanding. "And while you do that, I want you to tell me exactly what you'd do if he were here right now."
A pause, then Jessie's voice came back, husky with intent. "I'd start with my mouth. I'd wrap my lips around him and try to take as much as I could. Then I'd have him lay me down and spread my legs wide. And I'd let him push that big thick cock into me, inch by inch, until I couldn't take any more."
Kris's jaw tightened as arousal warred with a grudge he had no right to feel. He scrolled again through the photos, each one a thrust of unwanted desire. His voice came out rough and low as he pressed the phone to his ear. "No one just claims you, Jessie. Not without earning it through me first."
The silence on the other end stretched for a moment, laden with weights Kris couldn't name. Then Jessie's voice returned, softer now, laced with something deeper. "Okay. Then we'll show them exactly what you're made of. What do you want to send back?"
Kris held the phone away from his mouth, his chest tight, the words tangling in his throat. He wanted to send something back to Felix, something that reasserted his place, his claim, his standing in this dance they'd just started. But before he could craft a response, he heard the crunch of boots on gravel outside the trailer, and then a shadow fell across the open doorway.
Sophie stood there, a thermos in one hand, her expression curious and sharp. "You missed the afternoon briefing, boss. You good in here?" Her eyes swept the small space, landing on his phone, on the screen still glowing with the image of a half-naked couple, before flicking up to meet his gaze. "Everything okay?"
Kris thumbed the screen dark with practiced ease, dropping the phone face-down on the desk. "Fine. Lost track of time. The insurance paperwork from head office was thicker than I expected."
Sophie stepped inside, her heels clicking softly on the plywood floor. She set the thermos on the corner of his desk, her movements casual, unhurried. "You've been in here a while. I brought you some coffee. Figured you might need it before the next round of meetings starts." She paused, tilting her head, a strand of copper hair falling across her cheek. "You look a little, I don't know. Flushed. You feeling alright?"
"I'm fine," Kris repeated. The word sat heavy in his mouth, a familiar lie. He could still feel the ghost pressure of his erection against his jeans, still taste the wanting Jessie had conjured in him. It was everything he needed to keep a safe distance from Sophie right now.
Sophie didn't move. She leaned against the edge of his desk, crossing her arms, her gaze unreadable. "You've been distracted all afternoon. And I'm not the only one who noticed. Dave asked me if you were coming down with something." A small smile tugged at her lips. "I told him I thought it was probably woman trouble. He laughed. Said that explained the long face."
Kris forced a chuckle, rubbing a hand across his jaw. "Something like that."
Sophie hummed, reaching for the thermos she'd brought. She unscrewed the cap and poured coffee into a clean mug she'd apparently brought along, steam curling upward. "Woman trouble," she mused, her voice light. "The good kind, or the exhausting kind?"
"The good kind," Kris said, perhaps too quickly.
Sophie held out the mug. He took it, their fingers brushing briefly. Her skin was cool against his. "Good," she said. "I was worried it might have been the kind that needs a distraction."
Her eyes dropped to her own hands, then drifted to his phone, lying dark on the desk between them. "You mentioned earlier you almost opened something in front of me. I'm assuming it wasn't a safety memo." Her tone was teasing, light, but her gaze was sharp when it returned to his face. "You know I'm not offended, right? I've seen it all before."
Kris took a sip of the coffee, letting its warmth steady him. "I'm a professional, Sophie. What happens on my phone stays on my phone."
"Mmm." She straightened, smoothing down her pencil skirt with a practiced motion. "You know, for a professional, you spend a lot of time hiding things from your admin." She stepped toward the door, pausing with her hand on the frame. "Whatever's on that phone, I hope it's worth the trouble it's causing you. And if it gets too much, you know where to find me."
She left without waiting for an answer. Her heels tapped across the metal steps, and then the sound softened as she hit the gravel beyond. Kris waited until the silence settled back over the trailer before he picked up his phone, swiping back into the group chat with one hand. His chest pounded with guilt and the echo of Sophie's knowing gaze. Replying to Felix felt like a betrayal, but leaving Jessie's message hanging felt like an insult to the fire she'd sparked in him.
A new photo had landed in the chat while he'd been distracted. This one was of Nina, caught mid-laugh, her hand pressed her chest and her head tipped to the side in perfect, charming confidence. A caption followed: "Your turn. We showed you what's on the menu."
Jessie's private message flashed onto his screen moments later. "What do we send them back? I have ideas. So many ideas."
Kris's thumb hovered over the keyboard. The trailer suddenly felt too narrow, the walls pressing in with the weight of Sophie's earlier words, the heat of Jessie's messages, the image of Felix still seared behind his eyes. One person, his admin, knew that he was hiding something, and it took everything in him not to correct that assumption. Because it wasn't just something. It was everything.
He started typing his reply to Jessie, his heartbeat slowing as the words took shape.
He started typing his reply to Jessie, and the words came easier than they should have.
Send them a video. But I want to make it interesting. I've got an idea.
The response came faster than he expected.
I like the sound of that. What kind of idea?
Kris glanced at the open trailer door, at the rectangle of pale sky visible beyond it. Sophie's parting words still hung in the air like perfume. She'd see it all before, she'd said. The coffee sat warm in his stomach, and the image of Nina on that hotel bed was still burned into the back of his eyelids. The trailer felt like a pressure chamber, and something in him wanted to test how much it could take before he cracked.
He typed slowly, measuring each word.
The trailer has a window. Right above my desk. The blinds are half open. If someone walked past right now, they could see me through it. And the admin is still in her office next door. She keeps leaving her door open.
A pause. Three dots. Then Jessie's reply, sharp and curious.
What are you saying, Kris?
He set his jaw and typed.
I'm saying, what if I got that video for them right here? Right now. Risking someone walking past the window at any second. Risking Sophie overhearing me through the wall. That's the kind of energy she sent us. If we're going to play their game, we play it with real stakes.
The dots appeared, disappeared, reappeared. A longer message arrived, and he could almost hear the smile in it.
Oh, you're serious. You're actually serious. You want to jack off in your work trailer in the middle of the afternoon while your admin is twenty feet away.
He typed back with a growing grin.
I want to send them a video that makes Felix feel like he's not the only one who knows how to put on a show. And if someone walks past the window, well. That's the risk we take.
The dots took an eternity this time. Then Jessie's response came through, and he could feel the heat in it through the screen.
God, you're filthy. I love it. Here's the deal. You do it. I get to direct. You don't get to cum until I say you can. And if anyone walks past that window while you're filming, you have to tell me who it was.
Kris's heart hammered against his ribs. He looked at the window above his desk, at the half-closed blinds, at the thin sliver of daylight showing gravel and the corner of Sophie's office building. The coffee was still warm in his stomach, and his cock was already pressing against his jeans again.
Fine. But if I get caught, you're explaining to HR.
He stood and crossed to the door, closing it firmly but not locking it. That was the point, he realized. If he locked it, there would be no risk. The door stayed unlocked, which meant anyone could push it open at any moment. He settled back into his chair, positioning himself in frame for the space between the blinds, angling his laptop camera just enough to capture the desk and the edge of the window beyond it.
His phone buzzed with Jessie's next message.
Start filming when you're ready. Strip slow. Show them what you're working with. And Kris?
He typed back. Yeah?
I want you looking at the window the whole time. Make sure we can see your face. I want to watch you getting brave.
Kris leaned his phone against his coffee mug, propped so the camera caught him from the chest up, the window visible over his shoulder. He pressed record and looked into the lens, feeling the weight of his own audacity pressing down on him.
He started with his shirt. He pulled it over his head slowly, letting the fabric drag across his chest, watching his own reflection in the dark glass of the window. His torso was lean and cut from years of physical work, and he ran a hand across his stomach, feeling the muscles tense at his touch. He popped the button on his jeans, then worked the zipper down, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet trailer.
Beyond the window, he could see the corner of Sophie's building. No movement. No figure crossing the gravel. The risk sat in his throat like a stone, making everything sharper, harder, more alive.
He worked his jeans down to his thighs, his boxer briefs already tented with the strain of his erection. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband and paused, looking directly at the phone camera, at Jessie's invisible eye through the screen.
Then he pulled them down.
His cock sprang free, thick and hard, standing proud against the flat plane of his stomach. He wrapped his hand around it and gave the camera a slow, deliberate stroke, from base to tip, letting his palm drag across the sensitive crown. His breath came out rough and uneven, and he angled himself toward the window, letting the half-light catch him as he worked himself harder.
His phone buzzed with Jessie's next instruction. He glanced at it, still stroking, and read the message.
Good. Now tell us who you're thinking about while you do this.
Kris thought about it. He thought about Jessie, about the spread of her thighs in those photos, about the way she looked at him across the table in restaurants like she wanted to crawl over the candles and onto his lap. He thought about the way her voice sounded on the phone, breathless and wet, telling him exactly what she wanted. He thought about the image of Felix between Nina's legs, and the strange, simmering cocktail of competitiveness and desire it stirred in him.
And he thought about Sophie. About her sharp green eyes. About the way she'd noticed his bulge and said nothing. About the door she'd promised to leave open.
He said it out loud, his voice rough and low enough that it wouldn't carry. "My girl. I'm thinking about my girl. About getting home to her. About all the things we're going to do to that couple when we meet them. About making her watch while I push Felix against the bed and show him who she belongs to."
His hand moved faster, precum slicking his palm, the sounds of his work filling the trailer.
The window. A shadow passed across it.
Kris's blood turned to ice. His hand stilled. He stared at the open slats of the blind, heart pounding so hard it seemed to fill his throat. The shadow moved, resolved itself, and he saw the top of a copper bob, the curve of a shoulder in a white blouse. Sophie, walking past his window, just feet away from the desk where he sat exposed to his thighs, his cock rigid in his hand.
She hesitated at the edge of the glass.
Kris could see the profile of her face through the slats. She wasn't looking directly in, but she was close. So close. Close enough that if she turned her head two inches, she'd see him through the gap between the blinds, frozen mid-stroke, the laptop camera still recording.
The moment stretched into something unbearable. Kris's breathing was shallow. His cock was still hard, still aching, the danger only making it more so.
Then Sophie's phone buzzed. She glanced down at it, turned, and continued walking toward the main office. Her heels clicked across the gravel, fading into the ambient noise of the site.
Kris let out a long rush of air, his body trembling with the release of tension. He looked at the phone camera, at Jessie's unseen presence, and felt a grin crack across his face despite the trembling in his hands.
"They see less than we want them to," he murmured. "But they see enough."
He stopped the recording, his thumb pressing the red square, the trailer falling silent except for the hum of the air conditioner. His hands were steady now, the tremble passing, replaced by something hot and pulsing low in his gut. He looked at the video thumbnail, at the proof of his own audacity captured in pixels, and felt a grin tug at his mouth.
He sent it to the group chat.
The response came within seconds, Felix's name at the top of the screen.
Felix: Well. Somebody's been doing his homework.
Nina: Okay, that was worth the wait. Kris, if you ever get tired of construction, you have a future in content creation.
Jessie's private message arrived beneath the group chat noise, a single line that made him laugh out loud.
You absolute madman. That was the hottest thing I've ever watched you film.