Soren’s voice makes me jump a little. I turn to look at him with more hatred than I ever thought possible, and his face is expressionless. It’s pissing me off how nonchalant he’s being about this whole situation. It’s even worse, the way he’s calling me a princess, filled with mockery and sarcasm.
“Fuck off.”
He stalks toward me until he’s standing right in front of me. I tilt my chin upward, meeting his eyes, and he pulls his hands out of his pocket. He’s staring down at me with an inexplicable emotion, and I have to force myself to stop shivering. Whether it’s from cold or fear, I can’t tell.
Without a word, Soren’s hands come to grip my waist, and he yanks me upward. Before I can protest, he picks me up and puts me over his shoulder, as if I weigh nothing, as if this is normal.
“What the hell are you doing? Put me down, right this instant!”
Soren’s not bothered by my protests. I lift my head, only to see him carrying me toward the cabin. It’s still a bit of walking distance from us, and he’s not wearing a jacket. How is this bastard not cold at all?
I fist my hands, then start hitting his stomach. The only thing I manage to hurt is my hands, because his stomach is rock hard. He doesn’t move a single muscle, and then he does something that makes me believe all of this is some sort of a nightmare.
His hand connects with my ass.
“What the actual hell?”
“Would you shut up? You talk too much.” he scolds.
“You just fucking spanked me!”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Sloane,” he rolls his eyes, and I hit hisabdomen again. “You’re too damn loud.”
He kicks the door open with his foot, like the caveman he is and steps inside. The door closes behind us, and he plops me to sit on the kitchen counter.
The cabins are small. The main area is a kitchenette, a table for two, a couch, and a TV. There is a small bathroom with a shower, toilet, and sink, and a bedroom that only has a single bed, a dresser, and one night side table.
My eyes flick up to meet Soren’s, and I hate that I can’t read his face. He stares at me, his eyes slowly dipping down, inspecting every inch of me. He’s too close for my liking, his hands on each side of me.
Flashbacks of the night in Colton’s office run through my mind, and I don’t know what to expect now. We’re in almost the exact same position we were then, and I can’t help but gulp.
“You don’t have any knives on you, do you?”
Soren smirks. “Why? Are you scared, Sloane?”
“I’m not scared, Ford.”
“Liar,” he whispers, leaning in. “Fear looks good on you, Princess.”
“You know what would also look good? My fist in your mouth.”
“Kinky.” A smirk forms on his stupidly handsome face.
“Bastard.”
“Now, isn’t it strange that we’re going to be spending all this time together? Oh, I’m looking forward to this.”
My hands ball into fists again, and I try to shove him away. The bastard doesn’t move an inch, nor does he flinch. He looks utterly unperturbed by the fact that I’m all but gouging his eyes out.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Ford,” I hiss. “Move.”
“Or what?”
“Or my knee will be touching your little dick, and you’ll be in a lot of pain.”
