My Boyfriend Called Me A Stranger On Livestream Novels & Stories

One of the crew cleaned the scrape on my arm—the price of "falling off the cliff." I held out my hand, numb, eyes locked on the phone screen. The livestream burned my eyes. Every broken "Noemi" blasted through the speaker and slammed into my chest. Cesare, how much of your love was real... and how much was just a show? My fingers stalled for a second. Then, in the livestream's public chat, I slowly typed a line and hit send.

This stranger with the dark eyes who had sat alone at the bar staring at his drink and wished me a happy birthday like he meant it. "I walked in on my boyfriend," I said. "With someone I know." His jaw tightened. "Tonight." "About six hours ago." "I'm sorry," he said. And again, no performance. Just the words. "What about you?" I said. "What's the rough week actually about?"

I stared at the ceiling. Everything started here six years ago. Sleeping with a complete stranger... and it was my first. I was an idiot. My phone suddenly rang. I had almost forgotten it was still in my skirt pocket. I lay on my stomach and reached behind me to grab it, checking the caller’s name. It was a video call request from Catherina, saved under the contact name “My Baby.” All my anxiety disappeared and was replaced with excitement. I answered the call. Her chubby little face appeared on the screen, though her eyes were still closed while she rubbed one of them with her fist. She yawned before smiling sleepily.

As if I was nothing more than a stranger taking up space. Yvonne offered a small smile. Duke gave me a nod. But it was Giselle who broke the ice, bounding over to me like a ray of sunshine. “Wow! Girl, you’re gorgeous. What’d you grow up drinking, huh—pretty juice?” she teased, grabbing my arm. Her warmth made me laugh for real. The camera caught it all—and just like that, the live stream exploded. “I NEED this girl’s profile. STAT.” “Who is she?! Why hasn’t she been launched before?!”

Both of them are six-two, muscled, tattooed in identical places, a design choice or a twin thing, I don’t know, and right now they’re standing in my doorway staring at me with my legs spread and a glass cock buried in my dripping pussy and the live stream chat exploding behind me. “Well, well.” Kai steps inside. Closes the door. The soft click of the latch sounds like a verdict. “Our sweet little stepsister putting on a show for strangers.” My face is on fire. My pussy is on fire. The dildo is still inside me and I can feel myself clenching around it, rhythmic, involuntary— and the arousal that was building hasn’t gone anywhere. It’s sitting in my pelvis like a loaded gun. “Get out—” Knox is

‎Ryo..... ‎ ‎Thank God you are awake, a stranger's voice reach my ear's as soon as I woke up. ‎ ‎I knew I couldn't be David voice, I knew that instantly, even though my head was pounding and my thoughts were slow and heavy. David voice was familiar, safe in a way that had nothing to do with comfort. ‎This voice was slow and steady like some one who is supposed to be here. ‎ ‎My heart jumped hard in chest.

And there it was again, laughter. “I’ll text it to you. But prepare yourself, he’s going to be so annoyed.” A pause. Then, “I’m absolutely going to watch this.” The call ended. A few seconds later, his contact came through. A few seconds later, his number appeared on my screen. I stared at it. This was insane. I had three days to convince a complete stranger to pretend to be my boyfriend. I took a deep breath and pressed call. The phone rang once. Twice. I squeezed my eyes shut. Because somewhere between the festival kiss, the lie, and my mother's visit, everything had come down to this one phone call.

Smooth. “But I can’t really give out my contact,” Eli added, voice light but firm. “What if I give you mine?” the guy pressed. Eli arched a brow. “Isn’t that basically the same thing?” I chuckled low under my breath. Was this guy seriously not getting the hint? “I don’t mind as long as I can talk to you,” the stranger said, tone dropping now. Eli sighed. “I’m sorry. But my boyfriend here wouldn’t really appreciate that.”

“Must you off the TV because you wanted to ask me a question? He’s boyfriend why saying he’s a stranger?” “Boyfriend?” I chocked with shock. “When did I introduce a boyfriend to you?” Clark looked at me with a teasing gaze before sauntering towards me, arms crossed like he owned the place. “You didn’t tell your brother that you have a boyfriend? Azalea did I look that ugly so much that you can’t present me to your brother?” “Call me Lea!!” I growled. “Why did you like the ugly version of my name the most?”

“You are a high-maintenance diva.” Shit. Now I am sweating through my cute, cream jacket, while trying to appear like a composed young woman … who has it all together … and definitely isn’t selling her dignity to a hot stranger for money. Okay. He isn’t a stranger. Technically. He knows my brother. We’ve Zoomed … once. Emailed a lot. WhatsApped. Chatted most days. And he is now my boyfriend. Well, for all public appearances, social interactions, and everyone’s information, at least.