Santa’s Pretty Helper (Cam Show Crush)

5. Gabe

Five

Gabe

I let out a deep, satisfied breath as the last waves of my orgasm roll through me. I slump back against my chair, chest heaving, deeply sated this time.

With a groan, I reach for a towel to clean up the mess I’ve made all over myself. I give the camera one last wink before ending the stream. The chat is flooded with comments, people begging for more, but I’m completely spent now. I’ve given them enough for today, and earned almost twice my goal, which is a nice bonus.

I stretch my arms over my head, my wrist and forearm stiff from use. A hot shower and something to eat are both calling my name. I make my way into the bathroom, tossing the dirty towel into the hamper there. I reach into the shower and turn on the water as hot as it will go.

When I first started performing, I always felt a little dirty afterwards, like I’d tarnished myself somehow. Like an emotional refractory period of sorts. It faded with time, though, and while I don’t share this part of my life with anyone, I’m not ashamed, either.

The scalding spray feels like heaven on my skin, and I tilt my head back, letting the water sluice over my face and body, washing away the sweat and the lube and the come. I replay the session in my mind, my thoughts drifting—as they always seem to do—to Bella. Not just the thoughts I had of her during my show that pushed me over the edge twice, but the way her pretty green eyes had sparkled when I last saw her. The way she’d filled out her red sweater with soft curves. The way she’d moaned softly as she’d tasted the food I’d made just for her.

Jesus, I’m half-hard again just thinking about her. With a groan, I force myself to think about something, anything other than Bella. I need to get a grip on this obsession before it eats me alive. I’m going to lose my mind over a girl I can never have if I’m not careful.

I quickly wash up and step out of the shower, toweling off briskly. My phone starts to ring from the other room, and I wrap the towel around my waist before heading into the living room to grab it. I glance at the screen and my heart leaps into my throat.

It’s Bella. I don’t think she’s ever phoned me before. The occasional friendly text, sure, but that’s it.

Fuck, is she okay?

My pulse echoes in my ears as I swipe to answer the call. “Hey, Bella. Everything okay?” I’m amazed at how casual I sound given that I feel anything but.

“Gabe, hi!” she says, letting out a nervous little laugh that hits me like sunshine right in the middle of my chest. “Um…I heard what happened. At the restaurant? Eric told me,” she says softly, and god, her sweet shyness is too much. I want to gorge myself on it. “Are you…” She pauses and I hear her take a deep breath. “Are you okay?”

I’m touched that she’s worried about me. More than touched—her concern is filling me up with a warmth unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. “I’m okay. A little surprised, but also relieved to not have to work for that asshole Hugo anymore.”

“But what are you going to do? Are you looking for a spot in another restaurant?” She sounds genuinely distressed on my behalf, and it makes me wish we were having this conversation in person so that I could give her a hug and reassure her that I’m going to be fine.

“Not yet,” I say. “But I have savings to tide me over while I figure things out. Don’t worry, Bella. I’ll be fine.” I sigh. “I’ve actually been thinking about opening my own place.” I hadn’t planned on telling anyone until my plans are more concrete, but it feels right to tell Bella.

“Your own restaurant? Gabe, that would be amazing! It would be incredible. You’d be incredible, I just know it.”

Fuck, she’s sweet. It makes my chest ache. But despite that ache, I find myself smiling at her unabashed enthusiasm.

“It’s just an idea, something I’ve been mulling over,” I say, even though it’s more than that. I’m hesitant to put all my cards on the table, though. Not because I don’t trust Bella, but because I don’t want to count my chickens before they’ve hatched.

“Well, I think it’s a brilliant one,” she says a little breathlessly. There’s a pause, and I hear her take another breath. Or maybe it’s a sigh. I can’t tell without seeing her. “I’m really sorry Hugo fired you, Gabe. You’re so talented, and Eric told me it happened because you were defending him. So not only are you talented, but you have a good heart, too. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Christ, she’s too good for this world. Guilt slides through me, slick and oily. I don’t deserve her worry. Thanks to my secret career, I’ll be fine financially. I don’t deserve her kind words. Not when I’m the one fantasizing about her and getting off to filthy thoughts of her every single day.

“You’re really sweet, Bella. But I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Okay. Well. Um.” There’s another pause. “If you need anything, like anything I um…” I can hear her swallow, can picture a blush staining her pretty cheeks. “Our whole family is here for you. Oh! Um, are you coming to the Christmas tree decorating party this year? It’s on Saturday.”

Every year, the Holland family hosts a small party where they decorate their tree while eating and drinking. It’s fun and festive, and even though I’m not a huge Christmas person, I do enjoy it.

“Of course I am. Who else could make those gougères you love so much?”

She moans softly and my insatiable dick perks up beneath my towel. “Oh, the ones with the smoked salmon and the prosciutto?” she asks, and I chuckle.

“Yeah. Any other requests?”

“Hmm. Well…Oh! Maybe that spinach artichoke dip you make? It’s so good.”

“You got it.”

“Mmm. I’m going to need someone to roll me home in a wheelbarrow.”

I laugh. “Nah. I’ll just toss you over my shoulder and carry you if you’re too full to move.”

There’s another pause, this one crackling, electric. “I mean it, Gabe,” she says softly. “Anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

“Bella. Such a sweetheart,” I say warmly, heat pooling in my gut. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Well, I do. Worry about you. I can’t seem to help it.” Fuck, that makes me want to pull her into my arms. I don’t know what to say to that, and we go quiet, the silence thick but not uncomfortable. I never want this call to end. I want to bask in her concern, the warmth of her sweetness, for hours. Days.

Eventually though, she speaks again with a soft sigh. “Well, I should…let you go. I’ll see you Saturday?”

I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face knowing I’ll see my girl in just a few days. “See you Saturday, Bella.”