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"Why were you staring at me just now?" she pushes.
I chuckle, thoroughly entertained. “I was?”
"You said you'd leave me alone if I did what you wanted Sunday,” Sarah grumbles unhappily.
I said no such thing.
The picture I've looked at a thousand times and the video I watch on a loop ensure she's not telling anyone about the legacy party; that part of our deal is sealed. But we never established I'd avoid her. If she thought I would, that's her business.
I never would have. Not after the way she looked up at me, filthy with my cum.Like she was ready for more.Like she was desperate for me to take it.
Instead, she ran. Eventually, I would have chased.I knew it, and she should have suspected as much.
But all the while she was filming us, and she either posted it on some cheap revenge porn network, or she handed it to someone who did—I don’t know what’s worse.
No wonder she didn’t want to sign the NDA.
I managed to keep my little brother silent; all he said was that he’d collect the massive favor he did for me when he was good and ready to do so—likely in a way I won’t like. Magnus doesn’t suspect her; at least, not yet. If he chats with Riley and his wife informs him of Sarah’s presence, that might change.Though to be fair, Riley and Magnus don’t do much talking, so I’m safe on that side for a little while.
The sextortionist gave us three days to transfer the cash, and the first day’s almost gone. I have until Saturday, so around forty-eight hours to sort out this mess before it escalates.
The moment the board sends the cash, they’ll trace the account, and link the whole mess back to Sarah.
And then she’ll be dead.
I’m the alternative. Really, she should consider me her fucking guardian angel this week.
“Are you done with your classes for the day?” I ask, like I don’t already have her schedule.
Along with her school report, her medical file, her sealed social services history. I haven’t had time to do more than page them yet, but I will by the time this is over.
“No, of course not. It’s ten in the morning. Why?” Sarah demands, suspicious.
I lean back against the wall. “I figured we could have lunch. I’m a great cook.”
“You think I’d have lunch with you.Atyour place.” She laughs in disbelief. “After what you’ve done?”
I smile. “Yes, Sarah. You took a cumload from me. Least I can do is make youpelmeniandmorozhenoe.” And then I’ll take my answers.
Everyone wins.
She blinks several times. “Moro—what?”
I shrug. “Dumplings. Then ice cream. All made from scratch, because my grandmother would murder me otherwise.”
Nana Liliya likes Ben and Jerry's as much as anyone, but when we make proper food from her country, she wants us to do it the right way.
And I enjoy it. I’d enjoy feeding her, directly from my hand to her mouth.
“Sounds good. Dumplings and ice cream. Not with you,” she snipes.
I figured she'd be difficult. Any other woman in Rothford would have taken the offer. Hell, I wouldn't even have to offer food, only crook a finger and they'd be riding in my car, then riding me.
Not her highness.
I shrug indifferently. “Fine. I thought I’d offer.”
I’ve surprised her again. Her antagonistic glare turns into a frown between those dark eyebrows. She’s trying to understand my angle.
