Page 32 of Something Spontaneous

So, I do the one thing that I know will make me feel better. I open the OnlyVans app and send a DM to Black Sheep Bunni.

ME: Your video last week was hot and got me worked up. No van? Hope you’re treating yourself to some place nice.

If Josie’s a lost cause, then I might as well talk to the one other woman who’s managed to make my skin heat in years. Well, talking isn’t exactly accurate. I’ve heard her sultry voice in her videos, but we’ve only ever messaged. Even then, it’s the perfect distraction for me right now. I’m about to put my phone away and get back to finding something else on this minivan to obsess over, but three dots appear.

Fuck. She’s typing back and knowing that she’s on the other end looking at my message right now makes my pulse pound.

Black Sheep Bunni: Hey there, Big Guy. I see you’re paying attention. I’ve been enjoying some time to stretch my legs. I’ve even got a nice shower. It’s so roomy ;) I’m not sure what to do with myself in all that space… any ideas?

Most of the time we chat, it’s about her recent videos and if there’s anything special I want in a custom video request. Sometimes though, I ask about the modifications she’s made to her van. Since then, she’s messaged me about maintenance items, and I’ve been more than happy to help her troubleshoot them. I always try to be respectful and objective about it, never asking where she is currently or for any information that could be used to identify her. I’m genuinely curious about her, and sometimes it seems like we have things in common to talk about. This feels like bait though, and I’m willing to bite. It could just be her fishing for a tip or a paid special request, but it never feels transactional with her. Maybe we’ve simply blurred the lines in our DMs enough that I can’t tell anymore.

ME: You’re creative. I know you’ll come up with something I’ll enjoy. Maybe Octavius wants to join in the shower and feel closer to his home. How about you surprise me?

I click on her profile photo, pausing to admire her tight body before going to the custom request form on her profile. I don’t think twice about the price—because what the fuck else is there that I spend money on besides coffee at the diner—and click ‘Send’. Then I stare at the screen like I can magically will the video to instantly appear in my inbox. I’m almost embarrassed at the small thrill I get knowing that in the next day, or maybe week, or fuck maybe even two weeks, something will show up in my inbox, just for me.

My heart pounds thinking about what she’s going to come up with—and also because it’s pumping blood to my dick. She already has so much fun with her regularly posted content, and now I’m giving her a gentle nudge toward what I really want to see. The way she fucks herself is so goddamn⁠—

“Still polishing that shaft?”

Jumping out of my skin at the unwelcome sound of my dad’s voice, I whack my head on the underside of Mrs. Johansson’s van and the very axle I was polishing in my vice grip of a fist before I got distracted by a hot content creator.

“Holy shit, Dad,” I hiss out through my clenched teeth. “Do I need to put a bell on you like Sutton’s weird cat? You should know better than to sneak up on me when I’m working under a car on a lift.”

He chuckles the way only a dad can, amused by my misery or maybe thinking about my brother’s cat that he adopted from the dumpster behind his restaurant. “Yeah, that cat is sneaky.”

I glare at him, rubbing the back of my head and wincing. While I don’t mean to chastise him, he does know better. I pull my hand away to check for blood. There’s none, but I know that hitting my head that hard is going to leave one hell of a knot.

He grimaces, and I know he realizes the mistake he made. “Yeah, you’re right. My bad. I just wanted to come check and see what your plans were for the rest of the day.”

I slide my phone into my pocket, thankful that he couldn’t see what app I was on, not that he would know what it was in the first place. Still, that is an activity of mine that I never want to explain to anybody, much less him.

“Well, getting ice for the back of my head just moved to the top of my list.”

He shakes his head. “Come with me, you big baby.”

He turns toward the office, and I follow him. “Was there something you actually wanted, or were you just bored?”

Once we’re inside the office, he opens the freezer door and pulls out an ice pack. “I already told you. I wanted to know if you’re doing anything tonight? It’s Saturday. Do you even know what time it is? We closed two hours ago. You should get out of here and enjoy the rest of the day.”

I take the ice pack from him and wince at the sting of the cold plastic against the tender spot on my head. Then I eye him skeptically, because normally if he wants to do something with me—or Mom wants him out of the house—he just shows up on my doorstep like a stray puppy without asking, usually with a six-pack of beer.

“I was enjoying it until you tried to give me a concussion and a heart attack, at the same time. What do you really want?”

“This is your idea of enjoying an afternoon off? Spending it cleaning the bottom of a minivan that no one besides some unlucky squirrel’s going to see?” he asks, quirking a brow.

“I should be asking you the same thing since you’re apparently enjoying your afternoon off by doing whatever it is you’re doing here right now,” I counter, avoiding his question because I also don’t feel like explaining the reason I’m still here in the first place. I can’t get Josie out of my mind, and given my lack of success at trying to remedy that condition, I’m starting to wonder if I should just accept it. I bury that thought away and glare back at him. “Get to the point, old man. Did you want to hang out and watch the game or what?”

He grins, and I already don’t like where this is going. “Nope, as much as I would love to spend the rest of the day with you, just…” He shakes his head, “no.”

I groan and rub my temples. “Please, put me out of my misery and tell me why you’re here.”

He leans back against the fridge and eyes me. “I just saw Sisi at the motel and thought maybe you’d want to get out of here, get some fresh air, and spend some time with your sister.” He gestures vaguely in the air. “Just go do whatever it is that people your age do on the weekend.”

I sigh. I should have seen this coming, considering his recent antics. “She’s hanging out with Josie and her friend.”

“Yeah, I know Grace got in last night.”

“I don’t think I’m exactly who they want crashing their girls’ night.”