Free High-Risk Fever by Lea Bronsen Page B

he bent forward and disappeared from sight. Blinding candlelight from the window hit her in the eye, and she stumbled back.
    Heart beating faster, she turned on the flashlight and headed down the hall. It might not be possible to see anything through the keyhole, but there was another way. In her childhood days, she’d made spying on her parents’ guests a specialty.

 
     
     
Chapter Ten
     
     
    At the end of the dark hall, the flashlight beam revealed a door in the panel, perpendicular to Anne’s bedroom. The silence in the house encouraged her to proceed. There was no knowing how long it would take Brian to help the neighbor fix his roof, but a half hour had to be a reasonable time to indulge in her little scheme before reappearing downstairs.
    Jealousy so strong it choked her drove her to know what the guys were doing. She should be the one in Micaela’s embrace. Her pussy remembered the feel of his fingers inside, craved his manhood there instead, despite everything. Images from the previous night resurrected—him eagerly at work in his lover’s lap, semen spraying from Todd’s cock—and she couldn’t help letting curiosity take control of her impulses again.
    She pressed the brass handle and eased open the door, centimeter by centimeter, careful to avoid treacherous creaks from the hinges. How many times had she done this in the past? Cool air drifted out, carrying the familiar sour smell of ancient wood and dust.
    Pulse pounding, she shone her flashlight into a narrow staircase and closed the door. Safely behind the heavy wood, she no longer feared the creaking of each stair as she climbed. The guys were probably too busy to notice anyway, and the roaring wind and hammering rain on the tiles drowned every other noise.
    She reached the top and swept an empty attic with the light. It was an impressive triangular structure of hardwood beams in the roof and floor, a thick coat of dust a silent testament to decades of abandonment. Since the floor wasn’t suitable for storage, the place had never been in use. Power cables spread like a maze, disappearing into holes in panel plates fixed underneath the thick floor beams.
    Dust particles swirled up and danced in the flashlight as she crept delicately along the middle traverse beam. She counted three rental rooms to her right until getting to the last cable, above the bicyclists’ room. The five-centimeter-wide hole had been drilled close to the beam. When she was a child, the ceiling plates had carried her weight, but she didn’t trust them now. She knelt on the hard wood, near the hole where the yellowish, crackling cable disappeared, and took a deep breath.
    The first time she’d come here was as a curious eight-year-old. The frustration of hearing muted sounds from the tenants below and not being able to see anything drove her to bring a saw the second time. She’d widened the openings just enough to still be hidden by the ceiling lamps. As she’d lain, she would move the cables aside and peek through the holes. Couple after couple taught her a variety of sexual positions and techniques over the years. Enough to know her husband should divert a little more.
    She leaned forward with a hand rested on the hard beam for balance and tugged at the old plastic cable. Thanks to the power loss, Todd and Micaela’s lamp was unlit, so they wouldn’t notice its tiny movements in their ceiling. She held her breath while inching the cable into the sawn breach and peeked through the hole, past the swaying lamp.
    The bed stood underneath, and the guys came into view in the dancing candlelight, so near, goose bumps grew on her skin. She sucked in a breath. What if they saw her? No, the opening was too small and concealed by the lamp to be noticed.
    Micaela lay on his back, eyes closed, naked body glistening with sweat. Between his spread legs, Todd knelt forward, muscular back hiding his lover’s chest. The gray sweatpants Todd wore looked strangely intrusive to the