Amanda
Fuck him.
I stare at Theodus, wishing I could kill him with a look. My nails bite into my palms, sharp and grounding, keeping me from lunging at him like a rabid animal. He’d enjoy that too much.
“Nic, how’s your mission?” Theodus asks casually, his tone dripping with smug authority.
Nic—his vistor--some grunt with too much confidence—glances at me sideways, his lips twitching into a smirk. I snarl, the sound low and feral. What the hell is his problem?
Theodus chuckles, his hand sliding possessively over my waist. “Amanda, stop grinding. Don’t make our guest uncomfortable, okay?”
Grinding?
I freeze, heat rushing to my face, anger bubbling up to replace the humiliation. My jaw clenches so hard it aches, but I force a brittle smile and nod, pretending I’m paying attention.
