Page 33 of Mr. July

To: [email protected]

SUBJECT: Cleaning Fee/Damage

Sorry, I was busy pulling that stick out of my ass. You might be sorry I did.

I fell asleep grinning like a motherfucker. Visions of me in court, airing all my grievances while a faceless Ryan Hill sat mute played in my head. Then that dream morphed into another one. I was at my shore house with a woman I knew, however her face was blurry. She smelled like vanilla and oranges. Her breasts were full and round, the moonlight caressed her curves. I had her handcuffed to the wooden fencing behind the hot tub. The ocean roared behind me as I took a fluffy paddle and whacked her behind.

“More!” she cried.

I whacked her again until her skin turned light pink. She bit her lip, and I popped a dick gummy bear in. “Soon it won’t be candy in your mouth,” I growled before biting the back of her neck while nudging against her.

I woke up sweaty and horny as hell. Ryan Hill was really fucking with my head. Both of them. I was so hard, I hissed through my teeth. The only remedy a very cold shower. I didn’t know who this Ryan Hill was, but I was on a mission to find out. I couldn’t let this go. Not until I fucked with her head the way she did mine.

Thirteen

It was a new day. The sun was out. I felt great. I felt like I was on a warpath. Mr. Hot-shot Homeowner really got under my skin. I didn’t act like myself. Said things when I’d normally bite my tongue. If I’ve learned anything these past few months between Wade, the research program, and Mr. Weekend rental it was to speak up. Say my peace. Refuse to be silenced. I know he’s shaking me down for money. He’s also probably lying about being an attorney. If he thinks he’s going to take a damage fee, I want the proof. The invoices. Which of course he doesn’t have. But I didn’t have time to craft another email to him. I was days away from leaving this small campus behind and needed to get over to the administrative offices to sort it all out.

“What’s up?”

I turned from my open suitcase on the bed. “Oh, hey. I have some news.”

“Oh?” Gretchen arched a brow.

“Yup. You are getting a single for the rest of the semester. I’ve been offered a spot in Duke’s research program. Effective immediately.”

She sucked in a breath. “How did you pull that off?”

I shrugged. “Luck and a prayer.”

“That must’ve been one heck of a Hail Mary.”

I grinned. “Tell me about it. I only have a few days to pack my things, find a place to crash and transfer all my credits.”

“I’m happy for you,” she smiled softly. “You deserve it. To hell with Wade and his sex-bot. You got the jump on them.”

“Sex bot?”

Her face turned red. “Yeah, um, I guess they were really loud Saturday night. There was a party at Wade’s frat—everyone heard.”

“He’s not that great. She must’ve been acting. Truthfully, I had a better time with the sex toys at Kell’s bachelorette than I did in two years with him.”

“Ryan! You dirty girl. Good for you though.”

“Was I that boring?”

“Responsible. Definitely responsible,” she nodded.

“Well, when you’re living on loans and scholarships, you kind of have to be.”

“True. Wade’s going to shit a brick when he hears.”

“Wait. Wait until I’m packed and gone before you let the cat out of the bag.”

“My lips are sealed,” she made a motion with her hand across her mouth. “Gotta run, I have a study date!”

Smiling, I finished packing, zipped up my suitcase and was about to empty my desk when I noticed a new notification on my phone from the rental app.

I bit my lip so hard, I tasted blood. “Son of a bitch!” I was being cancelled. Literally. My rights to rent or use the app to rent was “revoked” pending an internal investigation. “Investigation my ass!” This had Mr. Hot-Shot Homeowner’s fingerprints all over it. I was sure of it.

---