“Thank you!” I snap.
We stare at one another for a few seconds before I shake my head. “Are we done for today?”
He runs a hand around his jaw, looking at me, puzzled. “Yeah, we’re done.”
“Thank fuck for that.”
I stomp down the hallway and up the stairs toward the guest room. I know I’m being a brat, but Denver isn’t doing me any favors by going easy on me. We were getting somewhere. The role play was helping. Him whispering all those things to me… it was helping.
I storm into my room and slam the door behind me.
We were getting somewhere.
Then his giant soft dick had to ruin it.
18
DENVER
The security sensorfor the kitchen beeps, and I look up from where I’m chopping firewood and to the tablet resting on top of the bench nearby. I place my axe down and walk over to it, wiping sweat from my brow with my forearm.
“And so she awakens,” I murmur as Sinclair appears on the screen in her ‘I love my Chinese Crested’ T-shirt and walks to the refrigerator. She opens the door and takes out a packet of cheese before peeling a slice away and handing it to Monty who’s standing beside her, wagging his tail.
“I’ll go to the store and get him some food,” I say, pressing the button that’s linked to the speaker.
Sinclair looks around, her eyes narrowing as she follows my voice to the security camera fixed to the ceiling.
She flips me off.
“The sound works both ways.”
“Oh, I thought it would. But I just didn’t have anything to say to you.” She smiles sweetly, her middle finger still extended before she spins, sticking her head back inside the refrigerator.
I sigh and head back inside the house, climbing the stairs up to where the living area and kitchen are. She’s studying the contents of the cupboards as I walk in.
“Protein powders?” She frowns as she scans the flavored tubs.
“They go well in smoothies. I’ll make you one,” I say.
“Don’t bother. I’m not hungry.”
She turns and leans against the counter with a sigh, staring out of the window at the treetops.
“You sure? You went to bed without dinner last night.”
I bend to fuss Monty as he scampers over to me.
“I wasn’t hungry then either,” she says, folding her arms, still not looking at me.
I rub behind Monty’s ear, and he licks at my wrist. “You want some of the corned beef again?” He turns his head to one side, his tail going mad as I fetch him some and put it on a plate for him.
“I gave him some last night,” I explain as Sinclair watches me, her lips pursed. “I know you fed him before we left, but he looked hungry.”
“It’s fine.” She sniffs. “He seems to like it.”
The only sound in the room is Monty’s happy chewing as we both stand on opposite sides of the kitchen.
“You okay?” I ask.
