“I thought you wanted answers,” Garrett said, yanking on his restraints as the large golden retriever got up and quickly made his way to her side.
“This is a good start,” Kristen said, unable to help but smile when the threats to spank her ass followed her as she made her way downstairs.
CHAPTER 25
For several minutes, Garrett stood there, glaring down at the evil woman that left him tied to a bed all night while he waited for her to profess her undying love for him, but instead, she sat there, pulling out a muffin from the brown paper bag that he hadn’t noticed before and began nibbling on it.
Narrowing his eyes on the woman that he adored, he snatched the brown paper bag that better have a tasty treat for him, took in the coffee rolls that she thought would appease him after she’d treated him like a whore, and headed back to his desk only to turn around and pluck that tasty muffin out of her hand, deciding that it was the least that she could do after playing with his emotions.
“You really didn’t think that I was going to make it easy, did you?” Kristen murmured absently, sounding really fucking amused for someone that needed her ass spanked.
“We’re over,” Garrett bit out, finishing off the tasty muffin while he continued glaring at her and absolutely-fucking refusing to find the way that her lips pulled up into a smile adorable.
She didn’t deserve to be called adorable.
Not after he was forced to spend the night tied to his bed, and definitely not after she decided to show up bright and early this morning with an assortment of delicious-looking donuts that she’d eaten in front of him from the comfort of his lap. Once she’d finished off the last delicious-looking morsel, she released a satisfied sigh, let him go and made her way downstairs, leaving him to seethe as he got ready for work.
“Would it make you feel better if I told you that those donuts weren’t half as yummy as they looked?” Kristen asked, grabbing her bag off the floor.
“I’d know that you were lying,” Garrett bit out with a glare for the woman that he’d thought about all night.
“They were delicious,” Kristen said as she pulled out an assortment of envelopes from her bag and looked through them.
Nodding slowly, Garrett said, “I knew you were evil.”
“Yet, you still adore me,” she said, having absolutely no idea just how much.
“Is that why you’re tormenting me?” Garrett asked as he helped himself to one of the coffee rolls.
“I mean, there are many reasons why I’m tormenting you, each one more complicated than the last,” Kristen said, opening one of the envelopes and read through the letter inside before she placed it back in the envelope and tossed it on the coffee table.
“Because you can?” Garrett asked, finishing off the coffee roll and reached for another.
“That’s one reason,” Kristen drawled, her lips twitching as she went through the next letter that had her smiling.
“Fan mail?” Garrett asked, unable to take his eyes off her.
“Mmmhmm,” she murmured absently as she went through each one, making the occasional note in a notebook before she moved on to the next one. “Kelly sent me one a few years ago,” she said, taking him by surprise as she made another note.
“Kelly did?” Garrett asked as he thought about the mean little girl that tried to make Kristen’s life a living hell.
Nodding, she said, “I got one from Amanda, too,” making him chuckle.
“That must have been interesting,” Garrett said, finishing off another coffee roll as he reached for his coffee only to go still when he saw it, the slight trembling of her hand as she stared down at the letter in her hand.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, watching her swallow hard as she shoved the letter back in the envelope.
“Nothing,” Kristen mumbled absently, shaking her head as she moved to toss the envelope on the coffee table to join the others only to rethink that decision and made her way across the room and tossed it in his trash before she went back to the couch.
Frowning, Garrett put his coffee down as he stood up and made his way to the trash can. He pulled the letter out of the envelope and-
Dear K.L.,
Still nothing.
One whole year and you have nothing to show for it. No words. No pages. No excuses left that anyone believes. At this point, even the readers who used to count down the days until you released another book wonder why they ever did in the first place. Readers don’t say your name anymore unless someone else brings it up first-and even then, it’s followed by silence.
You call it writer’s block because that sounds temporary. Harmless. Like it will be over one day instead of your new reality. But everyone else knows the truth: you’re empty. You ran out of words. Whatever you thought made you special is gone and it’s never coming back.
