Yet, there was zero accountability.
It was no surprise that, after I brought the project to the Editor-in-Chief, everything fell apart. He must be in the Bourne Pack’s pocket.
" . . . gotten her something that actually tastes good, not soup.” I tuned into Sinclair speaking to Kyan, whose eyebrows had furrowed until it looked painful.
“She needs something hearty. If you don’t understand?—”
“Here we go with a lecture from the great Kyan, the all-knowing . . .”
Kyan’s lips puckered, and I was surprised he hadn’t lashed out at Sinclair.
My neck was going to hurt from my head bouncing back and forth between them.
Seemingly done with the conversation, Sinclair was all up in my space, lifting the plastic spoon, he scooped some and took a bite.
“Mm, this is pretty good,” he muttered, mouth half full.
“It’s for her.” Kyan’s abrupt growl didn’t faze Sinclair.
“I was testing it. Could be poisoned.” Sinclair turned a glare on Kyan. “Why are you still hanging around? It’s my shift to watch her. Go,” Sinclair growled. Kyan’s lips thinned. “Don’t you have shite to do?”
That worked. Kyan left, the door vibrating from how hard he slammed it.
Sinclair spun around with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Open up.” He lifted the lentil soup to my lips and shoved the spoon in. If I didn’t take it, it would have ended up dripping on the blanket. Hot soup traveled down my belly. Immediately, my stomach cramped, bothered by the invasion of food. Something I had sparingly recently.
With my second swallow, another more pressing urge assaulted my bladder.
“I have to pee.” I yanked the taped needle from my arm and was on my feet within seconds. Sinclair’s eyebrows twitched, a smirk flashing across his face. Shamelessly, he kept looking at my chest. I crossed my arms over my bare breasts with a sneer.
I wonder who took my jacket off.
“Can I get something to wear?” I sniped, not hiding my irritation as I snatched the blanket up, wrapped it around my torso and under my armpits.
Once my body was blocked from his view, he smiled so wide, it pulled a blush from deep in my embarrassed soul.
I hadn’t even thought I was capable of blushing. Quickly leaving him behind, I reached the restroom, hung the blanket on the back of the door, and peed. With each step and twitch I made, the aches and twinges of my body intensified.
I turned on the shower and jumped inside, letting the warm water pelt against my skin and soothe the aches. Once I finished rubbing myself with soap and rinsing, I stepped out onto a bathmat and grabbed one of the towels resting on the shelf above the toilet.
Now dried, I tucked it under my arms again, winding it around my body.
Since I hadn’t washed my hair, it hung around my shoulders, tickling my skin.
When I padded out of the restroom, Sinclair was reclining, the chair tipped on the back legs. They thudded onto the floor as soon as he saw me.
He watched me like I was prey, and my stride slowed, pulse racing as I neared him. My Omega instinct swelled to life like a traitorous little slut, urging me to drop to my knees and take him into my mouth. Desire blazed to life. Sinclair’s hands turned into fists, and a growl vibrated his chest.
I exhaled slowly.
Take me, Alpha. . . The plea hovered on the tip of my tongue.
Elias stormed in, the door slamming behind him, effectively shattering the arousal clinging to my thoughts. Sinclair snarled, his head whipping toward the door. The violent sound should have stamped down my urges; instead, it only roused it.
I had to get away from the thick pheromones.
I had left the blanket in the bathroom. Muttering nonsense, I retreated, breathing in slowly as I stole the moment of privacy. Their voices rumbled, the deep timbre too low to make out any words.
