David sits up, grabs the monitor, and spins it around. I gasp. My eyes go wide, and a little piece of me dies. I’m staring at the screen, and there, on the fucking internet is a video of me shoving Stone Steele’s dick down my throat. “Oh, my fucking God!” I shoot out of the chair and grab the monitor with both hands, lowering my face down to it. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” “Jemma, why?” I’m so mortified right now; I can’t even answer him. I just stare at the computer, watching myself on screen as I look up at the camera and smile. “Man, you’re fucking good at that,” Stone says. And I giggle—I. Giggle.
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