Page 20 of Double Obsession

“Okay.” Kylie’s eyes lit up and she smiled. “We’ll be ready tomorrow by four. Can Lisa come too?” She frowned. “I’ll help take care of her. I promise. I don’t like to leave her alone since…well, you know?” She nodded, then held her hand over the receiver to call to her little sister, “We’re all going to Daddy’s until Monday morning.”

Lisa slapped a palm on her tray table and giggled.

It was settled. Even though their father had abandoned them and ignored them, her children would rather be with him. And her irresponsible older daughter thought Jenna was too incompetent to take care of Lisa.

She clenched her fists to keep them from pounding the wall. At least she was free to take a train to New York and have her agency dump her on her ass. Woohoo! Life was grand!

****

Later that evening, a defeated Jenna collapsed into bed.

Kylie had failed an algebra exam, and Ethan had been sent to the assistant principal’s office—again. An attendant at KidCare had fetched her from the aerobics studio to tell her that Lisa had a case of the sniffles, so she couldn’t stay around the other children. Then Matt called to ask her to send a nice outfit for each of the kids.

The final blow came when her cunt-in-law left a message in her affected nasally twang. “Jenna, please pack the children’s church clothes. I know you don’t iron, so at least make sure they are clean. I’d also appreciate it if you didn’t poison Kylie’s opinion of me. She imitates your eye-rolling and doesn’t have the respect for our Lord that she should. A mother must model—”

Jenna didn’t listen to the rest of the message. First of all, her children almost always wore clean clothes, and secondly, she had about as much control over Kylie’s behavior as she did over the weather. And thirdly, if a mother’s behavioral modeling was the sole influence on a child, then Matt must have been raised by a whore.

She’d written five hundred sixty-six not-so-stimulating words, done three loads of laundry, and made macaroni and cheese for dinner. The one positive of the day was that she had hired a nanny who could start on Monday. The young woman had a bachelor’s degree in early education and was currently working on her master’s at a nearby university. For room and board and four hundred dollars a week, she would prepare dinner, do the dishes, and take care of the younger children from four to eight Monday through Thursday. As a bonus, she would babysit them for a few hours each weekend.

Jenna texted her sister the good news. Stacie wrote back immediately.

Awesome. Check out HS’s newest post. Damn! My panties are soaked!

Jenna shook her head and chuckled. Stacie’s panties were always “damp” or “wet” or “soaked” over some guy.

She was about to power her phone off and place it on her nightstand when the identity ofHShit her. She closed her eyes and moaned. She’d been trying to forget that she had volunteered to be Hunter Stone’s muse two nights ago. Damn Stacie for reminding her.

Curiosity got the better of her, so she searched for his feed.

The second his photo appeared, she gasped. Talk about hooded lids. And then there was the open mouth as if he was groaning his pleasure. Perhaps he was, since the photo cut off below his forearm, which seemed to lay alongside his happy trail.

She swallowed and read the caption.Join me on FollowMe and see what I cropped out. Link in Bio.

More than anything in the world, Jenna wanted to know what that hand was reaching for. Her finger hesitated above the button. She exhaled, then before she could change her mind, she pushed on her InstaFriend direct messages. She ignored the ones from crazy ABC, skimmed one from a fan named @DianaPadlocki, and found Hunter Stone.

She read his message three times.

Hey, beautiful. The job is yours. Check out my new project on FollowMe. What do you think?

What in the heck wasFollowMe? And why send aSubscribelink? She clicked out of his feed to do an internet search.

Dozens of articles popped up.

The platform sounded harmless enough. Artists, creatives, and celebrities shared content with their fans for a subscription rate.These innovative platforms have grown in popularity this past year because they allow artists freedom and fans easy access. The main feed allows fans to interact, and a back channel provides additional PayPerView content and private direct messaging.She wasn’t sure whatPayPerViewmeant, butas a writer, she was all about artistic freedom. However, fans scared the bejesus out of her.

After battling her conscience over spending one hundred dollars to leer at a man fourteen years her junior, she typed in her credit card info and held her breath. She was simply supporting a fellow creative. Right?

The screen spun, then aThank You for Subscribingmessage appeared.

Jenna gasped the second she saw Hunter Stone lifting up his white tank, exposing rock-hard abs.

He had also shared the last forty-eight hours of his life—from his sexy mussed morning-hair, to his shower, to grilling steaks in a frilly apron. There was a delectable photo of his curling tongue licking a strawberry. Whipped cream covered his private area.

The man was an absolute tease.

His eyes pierced hers. His smile slammed at her heart. And his deep voice landed in her now-drenched pussy.

What in the flying, freaking hell was wrong with her?