Rise of the Wadjet Witch - By Juliet C. Obodo Page 0,7
for who she was. Maybe if he saw her again, he would remember the reason why they became involved. She reapplied her lip gloss and grabbed her purse before leaving to find him.
As nervous as an actress at a casting call, she recited her lines as she walked. She was determined not to look like a desperate ex-lover who pretended to be helpless in order to maintain contact. They worked together; they would be colleagues one day. This was a professional visit.
She walked into the empty and dark room. She glanced at her watch; Jonathan still had to be there. He’d blocked off two hours in his calendar; he was surgical when adding and deleting events in his calendar. She felt the pain as he deftly cut their weekly lunches out of his schedule.
God, she really could have used a cigarette. It had been acting as a pain medication since her removal from his bed and his daily activities. She suddenly felt a slight pressure in her temples. As she turned to leave, she noticed a light in the corner. She didn’t know the auditorium had a closet or backroom. She walked down the stairs, and the pressure in her temples increased with each step. She should have just gone back to her desk to take some aspirin, but the pain must have caused a disconnection from her body because she continued to walk to the door.
She heard a muffled moan. A man’s moan—more specifically, Jonathan’s. He loved his work, but she never heard him moan in ecstasy while searching for exoplanets. He did jump up and down a bit when the department received new equipment, but moaning was regulated to the bedroom and sometimes his office, if he was able to schedule it.
She did not want to catch him in the middle of whatever he was doing alone. She opened her mouth to call out to him, but another moan interrupted her. This time it wasn’t Jonathan’s, but it did sound like a man’s. Chills raced up her spine.
Please tell me he is having a nooner with a girl who has a cold.
The breaks on her feet didn’t seem to be working. Before she knew it, she was at the doorway watching a scene from a really bad gay porn movie. Jonathan was receiving a blowjob from an…angel? The worker had a golden mop of curls that spanned above his head like a halo.
“Jonathan?” she managed to squeak.
“Yes, baby,” he replied with his eyes closed.
The dirty celestial being stopped servicing Jonathan and turned to look at her. It was Troy, a transfer student from London. He took her prime mid-afternoon study sessions; now he was taking over her other…duties.
“Um, that wasn’t me, sir. We seem to have an audience,” he drawled.
Jonathan’s eyes popped open and widened in shock when he saw Memphis standing at the door.
“Memy! What—what are you doing here? I didn’t put you in my calendar this afternoon,” he stammered as he pulled up his pants and fumbled with his belt buckle.
“Yes, and I see why. You have your hands full.” Full of Troy’s ringlets. She backed out of the room with her hands up like a newly released hostage.
“Memy! Wait!” He started to follow her. Memphis turned and quickly ran up the stairs to the exit.
“Memy, I have your recommendation!”
“Carve some time in your busy calendar to mail it to me.”
And with that, she escaped.
Chapter 4
The alarm continued to buzz and Memphis continued to ignore it. She was not going to the school today. She wouldn’t be able to see Jonathan and control the impulse to complete a flying roundhouse kick to his stubbled chin. And Troy—ooh, she would have loved to rip out his golden locks and then, of course, send them to charity. They would be locks of hate, instead of locks of love. She could argue that it was for a good cause; a chemo patient could use his strands for good rather than evil. She could have sworn he actually smirked at her before she ran out of the room.
She wished she would have stayed so she could have gotten answers to some of the questions that went round and round her mind last night. Like, how long had it been going on? Was Troy a rebound? Why didn’t he tell her that he was bi? And who gave better head? She probably already knew the answer to the last one. She never made Jonathan moan like that.
She lulled in bed for