5. Panic

Chapter five

Panic

I couldn't stop thinking about the bookstore owner, Brock. At least, I assumed he was the owner. He acted like he owned the place. Didn't he say he was the owner? I couldn't remember, but it didn't matter. He was better off if I stayed away. Not that I'd seen Greg or Kurt anywhere. I looked out the window. Again.

No sign of them. I glanced up and down what I could see of the street outside, but it was quiet. I could be missing it. Missing something. I didn't know what or how. But someone was after me. The anonymous email was the last straw. I didn't even try to trace it. There would be time for that later. I packed and ran. When you received emails that said You're dead , you ran. Now, here I was, miles away from home, in some rinky-dink place. Alone. And I wasn't sure if staying here made me safer or put me in more danger. And what if I overreacted? What if the emails were simply Kurt trying to scare me? All this thinking in circles wasn't helping.

I unpacked the clothes from my suitcase, stacking them on my bed. I'd unpacked and repacked twice already. This time, I hung up some shirts and put some stuff in the little dresser. Then, put a few other things back in the suitcase. I didn't even know why, but it made me feel a little better.

There wasn't a private bath, but I needed to use it. But I didn't want to go down the hall. I didn't want to be seen, and I didn't want to use a public bathroom either. Maybe I should have stayed somewhere else, but this place was practically invisible, being upstairs from a bar. It almost felt like I was on a medieval quest. Would have been fun even, if someone wasn't after me.

Work had been rough the last few weeks, and I hadn't been entirely sure why. I'd enter a room, and everyone would go quiet. People would stare at me as I walked through the break rooms. I overheard someone around the corner say my name, then whisper to someone else. I didn't know why they were talking about me until I went to chat with Arnold in Security right before I left. He said he'd heard rumors that I would sell my latest game to a different company. Ridiculous. I'd never go to a different company. Queen Gaming was my company. We'd started it together, Greg and me. Then Kurt came on board when they got together, which I'd never been happy about. I'd tried to tell Greg, but he'd been so happy with Kurt. That slime. I knew he was behind all this. I just had to prove it. But I still had nothing.

I needed to get my mind off of things for a little bit or do something productive. Maybe I could trace that email. I opened my laptop and started the login process using passwords and biometrics to get in.

I wondered what kind of security Brock had for the store. Did he have cameras around? The front door seemed like it only had a normal lock on it. Was Brock safe? If they saw me go in, would they follow and interrogate him?

And why couldn't I stop thinking about him?

I stood and paced in front of the bed. Then stopped and touched the login pad, but it rejected. I tried again. After the second rejection, I used the backup password but still couldn't log in. Had they locked me out?

I turned away from the laptop, grabbed a few shirts from the dresser, and packed them in my luggage. I didn't know what I was doing. I rushed through the login and did something wrong. That was all.

I still couldn't stop thinking about Brock. I probably entered the wrong password. I was too distracted. With Brock. With his broad shoulders and biker boots. His happy smile when he thought he was helping me. His dark eyes sparkled. I wanted him. And I was horny.

I unbuttoned my pants and dropped them with my underwear to the floor and crawled on the mattress. Then got up to grab my little bottle of travel lotion out of my bag. I didn't have lube, but lotion would work. I squirted out a handful and stroked my dick. I sat on the mattress and lay back, stroking my cock while picturing Brock.

I squeezed my cock, sliding my hand quickly up and down. It felt so fucking good, but it would feel better if it was Brock stroking me. He'd had big hands. How would he feel? What if he sucked my cock? I hadn't had a good blow job in a long time. I wanted that. Wanted to stand over him and feed him my cock. I pumped my hips, thinking about fucking into his mouth. Or better yet, him doing it to me. And there it was—I chased after that orgasm until I squirted all over my hand.

I huffed, not wanting to go to the shared restroom to shower. But I needed one. I pulled my pants on without my underwear, wrapped my shampoo in a towel I'd grabbed out of the bathroom earlier, and walked barefoot down the hall. I would need to get some flip-flops for this if I stayed much longer. But for now, I needed to rinse off.

The shower was open, and I hurried in, turning on the hot water. I washed my whole body with the shampoo, rinsed, then stood under the spray for a minute, enjoying the wet heat and the steam. Finally relaxed, I turned off the water and grabbed my towel. I wrapped it around my waist, grabbed my pants and shirt, and ran back to my room.

I crawled naked into bed and settled down for the night. My brain finally quieted but…

What the fuck was I going to do?