Page 160 of Rush of Jealousy

“An anonymous email address I set up. And a few posts on a fake social media account.” Lies. And I hate myself for it. I am a hypocrite.

He nods his head and then stands. I whistle at him as he starts to pull on his dress pants.

His eyes smolder. “Quit looking at me like that.”

I decide to have a little fun with him and pull down the blanket that I have wrapped around my naked body. I spread my legs and run my hand down my chest. Down my stomach. And then I rub my fingers into my folds.

“Can you go slower and turn forty-five degrees clockwise so I can get a better view?” I ask, playing with myself—but really playing with him.

He kicks off his pants, picks up his cell, and punches a few buttons.

“Reschedule my nine o’clock.”

I yelp as Graham pounces on me so hard and so fast that the headboard hits against the wall. He pulls my hand away, licks my fingers off, and then pushes his hard cock into me with a force that ignites every nerve ending from the friction alone. I am rolled so I am on top. Riding him. His hands dig into my hips as he controls the movement of my body. Up and down.

“Did you get what you wanted, my little tiger?”

“Mm hmm.”

* * *

After class ends, I head over to the Campus Smoothie Cafe for my first real shift of work. I enter the shop a few minutes early and head to the private bathroom to slip on my work shirt, pull back my hair, and use the toilet.

When I head out, Paul is behind the counter making a drink. I place my bag and phone in the cubby area behind the bar, right beside his belongings. I wash my hands and catch his attention.

“Hey, didn’t see you come in,” he says, deep in thought as he adds a bunch of ingredients to the blender.

“I was in the restroom getting changed.”

He nods. “Pretty slow afternoon so far.”

I wipe down tables and counters while I wait for the crowd to pick up. And it does. I wash my hands again and move to the cash register as a group of wrestlers walk in and start ordering health shakes. The team captain charges it on one card, which makes it a lot easier on the growing line that begins to form. I make sixteen protein smoothies and line them up on the bar for the team. Luckily, they were all made the same way, so I just tripled recipes to speed up the process.

I move around Paul, only bumping into him by accident a few times.

“Why don’t you take your break?” he suggests.

“You sure? There’s still a decent line.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. You have been on your feet for a couple of hours. And we just got a few new blenders, so I can work on several drinks at once.”

I nod and smile. He really seems like a nice guy—except with big secrets to hide. I walk over to my storage cubby and glance back at the register to make sure he is occupied. I then slip my hand into his book bag and see if I can see anything out of the norm. I find zero books inside his bag, which is pretty weird for someone who is attending school here. His phone buzzes inside but it’s locked. I can only see partial text messages coming through. Several are from MT. Mark Tanner? I read what I am able to see.

Another shipment ready for test…

Meet at Hideaway tmw @ 4 to…

I quickly finish my snooping session and stand up with my lip gloss and phone in hand. I go into the restroom and freshen up.

When I exit, I find a corner booth to rest in, while I pretend to fiddle with my phone. Opening up my search engine, I type in “Hideaway” and discover it’s a bar in the suburbs of Portland—on the west side of the city. I text Claire.

Angie: I need a favor.

Claire: It’ll cost you one kidney.

Angie: Good thing I have a spare.

I can tell she is typing out another message from the dots blinking across my screen. I glance around the room and try to look casual in my demeanor. The last thing I need is to act suspicious.

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