She's performing...

Sanya's smile grew sly. "Because I'm performing," she said, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "It's a talent show, and I've signed up for a dance routine."

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of your girlfriend, dressed in something that would showcase her killer body, moving to the rhythm of music in front of a crowd of horny college kids. "That's great, baby," you managed to say, trying to keep the unease out of your voice.

Fatima's grin grew wider, a knowing look in her eyes. "Everybody's looking forward to it," she teased, her voice a seductive purr. "Sanya's got some... moves."

Sanya rolled her eyes and lightly slapped Fatima's shoulder. "Stop it," she giggled, though the blush on her cheeks told a different story. "You're going to make me nervous."

Fatima's laugh was infectious, her body shaking with mirth as she leaned back in her chair. "Nonsense," she said, her eyes still gleaming with excitement. "You're going to be the hottest thing on that dance floor, Sanny. I can't wait to see all the heads turn when you bust out those moves."

You felt a pang of something akin to jealousy, which was ridiculous because you knew Sanya was yours and yours alone. But the thought of other guys watching her, drooling over her, it was like someone had taken your favorite toy and played with it without asking.