Chapter 3

Tessa’s pov

I was down to the thin shirt and the soaked panties by the time Nash moved the camera closer, the tank clinging to my tits so my nipples showed through every time I breathed. 

He filmed tight shots the way a director would, phone held low, telling me where to look and how fast to move while chat kept tipping and the old vibe still hummed somewhere in the pile of blanket we left behind.

“Angle your hips toward the lens,” Nash said from just off camera. “Slow. Look at them when you sit. Don’t hide your face.”

I looked at the lens. My cunt was...