Page 17 of Double Obsession

He tossed a fully-clothed hiking photo onto his public Instafriend and wrote a goofy caption. Before he finished typing the hashtags, likes flooded in. He only enjoyed the adulation for a moment because the nutball with the cat photo responded.

People on FollowMe are sick perverts! They better not do evil disgusting things with your photos. Could you please forward your address so I can send Buddy and Lizzie’s presents? I made them all by myself.

What a fucking whackjob!

Thanks for looking out for me. Don’t worry, babe. I love being a devil.He added a few emojis for good measure.

Why in the hell had he taken the time to acknowledge the delusional person when he had over five thousand paying subscribers he needed to answer?

He closed his InstaFriend feed and headed to FollowMe. Hundreds of messages sat in his inbox. He opened the first one and gagged.

He opened the second. Shit! How many cock, pussy, and boob photos had he received?

He opened the third, and his smart-ass side took over.You put Daddy to shame. Spectacular Schlong! 10 outta 10!

An hour later, he was enjoying himself. He chose not to look at the photos too closely and sent each dude a10 outta 10and eggplant emojis. One particularly disgusting prick caught his eye. He cringed and double-checked. The damn thing couldn’t be more than three inches hard, and he was pretty sure it was covered in warts.

Nice, dude! 6 outta 10. But maybe head to the doc and have Mister Happy checked.

He peeked at the next blood-engorged giant’s dick, chortled, and sent a string of eggplants.

All of the chicks who’d been ballsy enough to send photos received hearts and:Nice! What do you want to do to Daddy?

Even though there was no way he could return all of the messages, he reveled in the attention and thoroughly enjoyed the connection. To top it off, the new houseboat he planned to purchase was about to become a reality.

However, if his account continued with the current energy and engagement, he would need someone to help manage it. For now, all he had was a pale, bitchy agent and thousands of people wanting a piece of him.

“Hey, Buddy, wanna help return messages?” he called to the foot of the bed.

The herder’s ears popped to attention, but his chin stayed on the pillow.

Lizzie awoke and jumped up and down on Hunter’s chest. Chuckling, he closed his account. Although exhausting, it’d been a fun day. However, he needed to take care of his own needs by flirting with a chick he’d long lusted after. He searched his inbox for the sexy writer with the tight ass.

After reading her message, he smiled and wrote back. Hey, beautiful. The job is yours. Check out my new project on FollowMe. What do you think?

He added theSubscribelink, then wrapped a palm around his cock. “Fuck yeah, Jenna. Drain me,” he begged.

Chapter Nine

Anearby lightning strike lit up one side of her bedroom, and a slimy layer of perspiration coated Jenna. Even though she’d stripped down to a silk cami and underwear, she still drenched the sheets. After an hour of tossing and turning, she forced herself out of bed to turn up the air conditioning. A week before, she’d needed the heat. Mother Nature was a fickle bitch.

She padded into the kitchen, guzzled a glass of ice water, then returned to bed hopeful that Mr. Sandman would come a-knockin’.

Unfortunately, the uncomfortable temperature and crackling thunder weren’t her only issues. She’d thought if she could work through her writer’s block, all of her problems would be solved. How wrong she’d been.

Forty-two thousand steamy words into her manuscript and her world again imploded when Ethan’s teacher had called requesting a meeting to discuss his “behavioral issues” and the need for an “Individual Education Plan”—whatever in the heck that was. As if that wasn’t enough, the night before, Kylie had come home from Cara’s smelling like smokey fermented fruit. Her dad’s shoulder surgery was a couple of days away, and he insisted on returning to work immediately. They’d lost her mother to cancer a few years ago, and Jenna’s heart still hurt. She couldn’t survive something bad happening to her father, especially since the rest of her life felt so out of control.

Thunder roared, anxiety spiraled through her, and an invisible force pressed on her chest. She sat up and fought to take in air. It took her forever to steady her breathing; then, for the second time that night, she got out of bed to navigate the dark hallway. If she turned on the lights, she might wake her children, and Ethan and Lisa were afraid of storms. Unsettling shadows dappled every surface. Someone could be hiding around the corner, and she’d never know since the Victorian house squeaked and squawked as a rule.

Surrounded by askew blankets, Lisa was sound asleep in her pink toddler bed, and Mister Bunnykins lay on the floor. Jenna placed the stuffed toy beside her baby. God, how she loved Lisa’s chubby fingers. She brought one to her lips and kissed the tip, wanting to gobble up the cuteness.

She tip-toed into her rebellious daughter’s room to find an innocent princess with long golden hair splayed across a silk pillow. She removed the buds from Kylie’s ears and placed them on the nightstand before gently kissing the sleeping beauty’s forehead. “I’m sorry I don’t always understand you,” she whispered. “But I love you.”

Her next stop was in Ethan’s room, where a storm of protectiveness overtook her. After removing the pirate sword from his loose grip, she lay down beside him. Mom guilt overtook her and she ached to apologize for her failed marriage. Placing her lips to his ear, she softly said, “Everything is going to be okay.”

Thunder boomed and the house shook. She jumped and squealed. Thank goodness no one was awake to witness her silly shaking.

Jenna wrapped her arms around Ethan and closed her eyes. A peacefulness akin to a narcotic settled over her as rain pelted the roof.