Jack

It barely takes three strokes to finish myself off in the shower. If she only knew how close I came to letting her have her way! That round ass, those small, firm tits... I could’ve eaten her alive. I stay under the spray till the steam gets too much. Even so, my cock’s still twitching as I towel myself dry—at the thought of her accent this time. Erik was right: it is hot. Especially when she forgets where she is, lets it bust out for real.

Next time, I’ll let her blow me. Maybe while she sits on my face.

I shake my head. Eleven hundred hours. Time to come back to earth.

I plop down in front of my computer, still in my towel. I don’t have to be anywhere for an hour. I should use this time wisely: answer e-mails. Check budget reports. But first....

Monitors one through seven show empty rooms. Monitor eight’s Starkey’s suite. He’s stretched out on that sad old recliner of his, playing chess on his laptop. Eating Skittles straight from the bag. Classy. I click over to Stella. She’s on her computer too. Writing something. I zoom in, reading over her shoulder.

He swore the water was warm, so I jumped right in. Should have known better. I sank like a stone, stunned by the cold. It wasn’t till my feet hit the bottom and the stirred-up silt started to block out the sky that I

She stops there and stares at the screen. Writer’s block, maybe.

Whatever she’s writing, it’s clearly not about me. A journal, maybe. Or fiction. None of my business.

I keep watching anyway, but she doesn’t write anything else. Pretty soon, a new window pops up. Erik’s Facetiming me.

“Yeah?”

“Nice shirt, man.”

I flex my pecs at him. “Whatever. What do you want?”

“Just checking in. How’s things with Stella?”

Nosy fucker. “Good. Friendly. Took her out running.”

Erik whistles. “True love, huh?”

“Right. How’s Alicia?”

“Bouncy and delicious.” He does an exaggerated leer. “Licked ice cream off her—”

“O-kay!” I roll my eyes. “Is that why you called? ‘Cause there’s numbers for that, buck ninety-nine a minute.”

Erik leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers. “No. I talked to Magnus. He told me about the party.”

Fuck. Didn’t think he noticed. I only spaced out for a moment—and barely, at that. “Listen, I—”

“He said she knew everyone. And you let her loose, to conspire, to...well, who knows what went on? What were you thinking?”

Oh. That. I school my expression into something blank. “Same thing Magnus was thinking, letting Mary wander off with her sorority sisters—and for much more than an hour. Almost the whole night.” I frown. “What’s she going to say? Anything bad for us is disastrous for her.”

Erik doesn’t look mollified. “Didn’t know about Mary. But she’s not the dangerous one. Her friends are students and socialites. Stella’s are people. With connections.”

“Which makes her less likely to talk.”

“How do you figure?”

“If she did come for the story, she’ll want to break it herself. Watching it spread across town before she gets her teeth into it would be her worst nightmare. At most, she’ll ask questions, and where’ll that get her?”

“Nowhere. I suppose.”

“Quit worrying. I have her under control.”

“See that you do. And find a goddamn shirt. Your nipples are staring at me.”

I snort and hang up. Stella’s not by her computer any more. I close the window without looking for her. Spying on her suddenly feels wrong. Starkey’ll catch her if she steps out of line. I don’t need to peek at her personal life...even if she did try to peek at mine. At least twice, that I know of.

Curiosity’s never been good for me. Didn’t like what I heard by the water tanks, either, the night I caught Magnus and Erik fleeing the burning factory. Didn’t like that at all. They’d tried to smother the smell of explosives with—fuck, I don’t know. Goat shit and cologne, maybe. It was....

“Get out of the open! Starkey’s gonna see you!”

I pull myself back from the brink. No. Not going there. Not this time. It’s been a perfectly good day.

I’d be over this by now if I didn’t have to keep them around. Starkey’s fine—none of this is on him. Erik and Magnus, though—Nagler, Katrina, the rest of them....

I stand up suddenly enough to topple my chair. I need to get out of here. Get some air. Maybe a drink. And—shit! I scramble out my watch. Eleven thirty-eight. I’m late. I’m never late.

I’m halfway to the door before I realize I never did put on clothes.