Drive Me Crazy Read online

  Drive Me Crazy

  by

  Rebecca Jenshak

  Copyright © 2018 by Rebecca Jenshak

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without written permission from the author.

  Rebecca Jenshak

  www.rebeccajenshak.com

  Cover Design by Jena Brignola

  Formatting by Jill Sava, Love Affair With Fiction

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Names, characters, places, and plots are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Mister Cowboy

  Chapter One

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Rebecca Jenshak

  About the Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  Grady

  The hard metal pushed into my sweaty palms as I let the weighted bar skim against my pecs before catapulting it back up in fast, machine gun bursts.

  “Eight,” I grunted out the number as I re-racked the bar and sat up on the bench.

  A loud whistle interrupted the late morning silence of the fire station. “Yo, boys, Princess Peach alert,” Jose, our newest, and so far, most annoying, recruit called.

  I tossed a pointed look at him, but he ignored me and continued to smirk like he was imagining the woman walking our way naked. Even the suggestion that he had made my blood boil.

  Naomi bounded through the open firehouse door. Her eyes scanned the room quickly, finding mine and locking into them. I didn’t stand. Partly because watching her walk was enough to make any man, myself included, completely captivated. The other reason was entirely selfish and rude, but damn if I didn’t want to delay the time until I’d have to be an asshole to my best friend’s little sister. Could I still call her that when my best friend was dead and she wasn’t so little anymore?

  She was all business as she marched through the room in her tight dress and strappy shoes that made a light tapping with every step. Running a towel over my face and arms, I let my gaze fall to the floor. It didn’t matter. I could feel her. I could smell her. The air around me shifted into a living breathing thing that threatened to swallow me up.

  “Here.” She shoved a hundred-dollar bill under my nose. “Go on take it.”

  “Wha− ”

  “Oh, come on. I know it was you last night that paid for a private session and then spent the better part of an hour asking me the most boring and unsexy questions ever.”

  Hardest hour of my life. Seriously. If she thought she needed to take her clothes off to drive a man crazy, she was sadly mistaken.

  “I like my job. I’m sorry you don’t approve, but you can’t buy me off every night.” She tossed the bill in my lap.

  “I promised him I’d take care of you. You’re making it damn near impossible.”

  “I don’t need you to take care of me,” she said sternly, but the desperation in her voice made me feel like I momentarily had a leg up. Her voice softened as she continued. “Look, I know Nathan didn’t approve of my career ch—”

  “Taking your clothes off for strangers on the internet isn’t a career,” I snapped, instantly regretting the harshness in my tone as her eyes widened and then filled with tears. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

  Glancing around the room, I could see all eyes were on us — or rather her. “Come on.”

  Standing, I placed a hand on the small of her back, careful to only let my fingertips linger there for a moment as I led her to the empty kitchen at the back of the busy station. Despite the amount of food that was consumed by the six-man crew, we tended to steer clear of the kitchen in favor of sitting and eating in the dining room with the large television mounted on the wall.

  She turned to face me before I knew what it was I was going to say. Her dyed blond hair was so light it looked white under the natural sunlight coming through the windows. She had pulled the long strands into an elaborate looking braid that twisted around her head and over her shoulder where it rested on one round, perky— Fuuuck, I could not be thinking of her tits right now.

  “Please, Naomi, help me understand why you’re doing this. Nathan had one request of me − one dying wish. He was my best friend for twenty-five years, and he never asked anything of me. Except this.”

  “I’m going to tell you the same thing I told him: it’s not your choice. Besides, I like my job.”

  A rough laugh left my chest.

  “I do. Why is that so hard to believe?”

  “What self-respecting woman wants to have men who couldn’t score a date if their life depended on it jerking off behind a computer screen?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Trust me, sweetheart. No dude that can get an actual date is paying to watch someone take their clothes off without being able to touch her. Not when there is free porn at the click of a button.”

  “You really don’t get it. It’s more than that. It’s about connection and fun.”

  I laughed again. If she believed that then I really did have my work cut out for me.

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll make you a deal.”

  “A deal?”

  “Mhmmm.” Her voice was laced with honey and mistrust. “Meet me at my house tonight at eight.” She was walking away before I could come up with a reason to say no.

  “Don’t be late,” she sing-songed, not looking back.

  I ran my hand absentmindedly through my still wet hair, already second-guessing my decision to show up. I could do this. Whatever Naomi had in mind, I could reason with her. I had to. My hand lifted to knock on the front door, but it swung open before my knuckles made contact.

  I sucked in a breath, and my cock felt heavy as I got my first glimpse of Princess Peach in the flesh. Fucking hell. A tiny scrap of plaid material made her barely decent on the bottom half with her long legs on full display. A plain, white t-shirt had been tied up below her breasts and a glimpse of her pink areolas told me all I needed to know about what was underneath — nothing.

  Every schoolgirl fantasy I’d ever had was obliterated. They didn’t compare.

  “You’re late. Come in,” she said in a breathy voice. The door flung open and she disappeared down the hall.

  “Holy fuck,” I muttered and took a steadying breath. I had two choices — turn around and go home or follow the lingerie-clad vixen to what was sure to be the end of me.

  Against my better judgment, I shut the door behind me and followed the trail of light perfume down the hall.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Naomi

  Lighting — check.

  Logged into the Wet & Wyld stream — check.

  Wardrobe — ridiculous, but check.

  I’d gone through my mental checklist a million times. Make that a million and one. Glancing in the mirror, I barely recognize the painted face that stared back at me. It itched and suffocated my skin, but it provided an extra layer of confidence that I was going to need for tonight. I’d never done a live stream with someone watching in the same room. How incredible that a thin layer of glass and plastic provides a cloak of anonymity while I’m practically naked in front of millions of viewers. Grady has always made me feel naked and vulnerable, but tonight I needed to be at my best. />
  He stood in the doorway with a look of disgust on his face. Or was it torture? I couldn’t allow myself to get caught up in his thoughts of me. I didn’t need him to see me as the innocent tagalong younger sister of his dead best friend; I needed him to see me as a professional. A woman. Someone who provides a safe and fun service to people that, for whatever their reason, are online looking for a good time.

  “Stand behind the computer.” I nodded with my head across the room to where I’d set my laptop on the coffee table in front of the couch. Behind me, a blank wall was painted red and in each corner, out of the view of the camera, were two large lights. This six-by-six space in my spare bedroom was my stage. I performed five nights a week. To call it anything less than a performance was an insult to the hours of prep that went into each night. And if anyone thought parading around in skimpy lingerie each night and fondling yourself for an audience was easy, well — that person had obviously never videotaped him or herself masturbating.

  Grady hadn’t moved.

  “I’m serious. You were late, and I need to go live now. Get behind the camera or you could take your clothes off and join me,” I teased and tilted my chin down so I could look up at him with big, puppy-dog eyes.

  His eyes widened at the implication, and I bit back a smile that I’d been able to shock him. He said nothing as he moved across the room and sat down. He looked more uncomfortable than I’d ever seen him. Had I ever seen him look uncomfortable? Grady wasn’t short on confidence. Probably because he wasn’t short on looks. And if the rumors were true, he wasn’t short anywhere. He folded his six-four frame on the sofa as if he was ready to bounce at a moment’s notice.

  “What are you trying to pull, Naomi?” He kept his eyes off me.

  “Oh, relax. You’ve seen me in swimsuits — this is basically the same.” I didn’t mention he’d seen me in last night’s dominatrix getup, which had been far more revealing than the schoolgirl outfit I wore tonight.

  “I don’t want any part of this. I made a promise.”

  Stilling as I leaned over to press the button which would broadcast me worldwide, I paused. “I told you I’d make a deal. You sit there for the next few nights and watch me work, and if at the end of the week you still don’t approve then I’ll quit. I’ll find some bullshit waitressing job making shit money to line someone else’s pockets. That is what you want, right?”

  “I told him I’d take care of you. Hell, there is enough money in the trust your parents and Nathan left to keep you−”

  I cut him off. “No. I don’t want that money. I’ve told you a hundred times, I won’t touch it as long as I can earn my own way.”

  He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair.

  I stood straight and spoke softer. “Look, I need you to understand that what I’m doing is more than taking my clothes off for money. It’s more than a job to me. I can provide for myself. Take care of myself,” I said the last phrase slowly, enunciating each syllable.

  He looked like he was going to interrupt, but I held up my hands, palms facing him. “There’s no one left. It’s just me now, and I need to know that I can do this on my own. Nathan was the best brother I could have asked for, but when our parents died, he took over as my protector and provider. I never wanted for anything, but I never had to work for anything either. I need this,” I whispered

  His face softened, but I didn’t give him time to answer. I clicked the Go Live button and smiled into the camera.

  “Hi everyone, Princess Peach is finally here. Sorry I’m a little late, but I have a fun night planned,” I said, pulling the length of each pigtail and twirling the ends around my fingers. “We have all the usual players.” I held my hands up to the top of a rolling shelf that held all my toys in my best Vanna White. “And just in case anyone gets out of line, I’ve brought this,” I said in a playful voice as I lifted the yardstick up with one hand and swatted it down into the palm of the other.

  I could hear Grady mutter something and see out of my peripheral vision that he’d placed his head in his hands and stared down at the floor. I didn’t let it throw me off.

  “As always, I’m available for one on one playtime — prices are listed on your screen. Until then — oh! Looks like I’ve got my first invite. To everyone else, you can click to request a later slot to ensure you get time with me tonight. If I’m not booked up, I’ll be back to hang out in the Princess Peach Party Room. Also, check out one of the many other live streams here at Wet & Wyld.” The spiel flowed out naturally — the same one every night. I hadn’t had a night that hadn’t been completely booked with paying customers since my first week as a cam girl, but I liked to leave the possibility open so the others would check back into my channel every time they visited the site.

  Want_2_BMLonURtits had shelled out one hundred dollars for thirty minutes with me. He was a regular, and despite his screen name ‘want to blow my load on your tits’ he was usually far more interested in my ass than my tits.

  I knew Grady couldn’t see the man on the screen in front of me, but as the image of this customer popped up on the bottom of my laptop, I felt the rush of emotions that always came when I went one-on-one. Pride, excitement, anticipation. It wouldn’t be fair to say I was turned on. I wasn’t. But it did give me a certain pleasure knowing I was turning someone else on.

  Want_2_BMLonURtits, or Andrew as I had learned in our third session, looked around forty. He wasn’t an ogre, which was the most common misconception people had about the men who paid to watch me. Granted not all the men turned their own camera on, the ones who did had never been anything out of the ordinary. Slightly overweight, bad acne, weird teeth, receding hairlines — normal, average men stuff. Andrew smiled from my computer, and I smiled back, looking over the top of the camera to where Grady sat. He’d relaxed if his posture was any indication. One leg crossed over the other, hands resting comfortably in his lap, he looked like he could have been sitting around drinking beers with the guys instead of getting a front row seat to a live porn feed.

  “Hi Andrew, how are you tonight?”

  “Hi, Peach,” Andrew’s nervous voice quivered back. “I’m doing good. I love the schoolgirl outfit.”

  “You like?” I asked and twirled letting the short skirt lift up higher revealing the navy G-string underneath.

  “Very much.” He nodded enthusiastically.

  “What are you up for tonight?” I asked, pulling the rolling cart closer to the computer and opening a drawer filled with more toys than one could imagine. “I have new nipple clamps,” I said, pulling out a long chain with clamps at each end.

  Andrew shook his head.

  Called that.

  “I’ve got the vibrating beads you like so much.” I pulled out his toy of choice knowing without looking that it’s what he’d choose no matter what other toys I showed him. He hadn’t wavered in his choice yet.

  I settled down on the blankets pulled into a makeshift bed at the front of the room, setting the toy down in front of me. “How about a game of Truth or Dare, Andrew?”

  “Sounds fun. I’ll go first. Dare,” he said, automatically, like he hadn’t even considered Truth as an option. Another thing, I was sure he wouldn’t waiver on.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Grady

  I was never making another promise as long as I lived. Which might not be much longer. This one was going to kill me. Cause of death? Asphyxiation. I’d stopped breathing the moment she’d pulled out the vibrating anal toy. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

  Naomi laughed happily as she gave and accepted sexy dares with Andrew. I said the name in my head with disdain. I hated this dude. I couldn’t see him, but I was going to remember his voice forever. I was sure it would haunt me in my dreams. Dreams of her perfect ass.

  I couldn’t look.

  I couldn’t look away.

  She was good. Not because her body was a ten or because her face was an eleven, but she was so confident and fun. Hell, I wished my conquests w
ere half this much fun — and they’d actually been in the room with me. Was it all an act? It was hard to tell where Naomi ended and Princess Peach began.

  The look was obviously part of her gig. Last night it had been a leather onesie that came up high around her neck and cut up on her hipbones. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t jerked off to that image last night… and this morning. The rest though, her bubbly and fun way with Andrew and the obvious organization and planning she’d done to pull something like this off every night was indicative of the Naomi I’d known since she’d followed Nathan and me around, conning us to give her quarters for tiny cups of lemonade. A ten-year age gap meant she’d been too young for me to think of her as anything but a little sister back then. But about the same time Nathan got sick, she’d turned twenty, lost the glasses and the braces, grown boobs that were every late bloomer’s dream, and suddenly I’d had to feign indifference.

  My cock wasn’t faking anything right now. It was so painfully hard I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to work her out of my system.

  She was on all fours with her ass pointed at the camera and she looked over her shoulder as she twisted and brought the yardstick down hard against her pink flesh. She cried out and my cock throbbed.

  The only thing that kept me from completely losing my shit was that she didn’t seem to be enjoying it − not really. Her eyes were clear and bright, her voice was the same tone and octave she used for everyday conversation, and I’d yet to get a glimpse of either nipple peaked up and asking for attention.

  Andrew either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care that this charade was doing nothing for her. “You like that don’t you, you naughty girl?”

  I rolled my eyes. Did he really think this was shit you said to a girl? Naomi nodded and picked up a tube of lube, she squirted a small amount on two fingers and then hooked the string of her panties with another digit while she rubbed the liquid around her entrance while telling Andrew she had indeed been a naughty, naughty girl.