Page 117 of The Bonus

Grace

I peg the washing on the line with force. Who the hell does this imbecile think that he is, he barges in here, demands I give him a room and then disrespects me by having a raging erection at 2 a.m.

I get a vision of his hard dick and how beautiful it was.

Ughh…

I peg the clothes on hard. I hate this man and I hate that his dick is just hanging around in my house at night.

All hard and fuckable like. And he knows it, too, he knows how good his dick is and he’s just parading it around, and damn it I need to get laid stat.

My blood boils and I peg the last of the clothes on and march inside to find Dominic, Lucia and Gabriel sitting at the table, eating cereal together.

Hmm, this is all very civilized.

I pick up my coffee and take a sip and casually glance over to see something standing on end on the table in front of Gabriel.

Huh.

My vibrator…

I spit my coffee out. What the fuck? “What are you…what the hell…what are you doing?” I stammer.

“Eating my cereal.” Gabriel’s mischievous eyes hold mine. “Dom found your kitty cat massager in the washing basket.”

My eyes widen.

Gabriel smirks. “It’s a very small massager.”

No, no, no…this can’t be happening.

“Well…” I wobble my head around as I try to think of a comeback. “I have a very small neck,” I spit. “Stay away from my massagers.”

I march out of the room and into the hallway and put my head into my hands.

This is single-handedly the most embarrassing moment of my entire life.

How could I forget that it was in the washing basket?

What the hell is wrong with me…and of course he had to be here to see it.

Oh.

My.

God.

I want to die a thousand deaths.

With my heart thumping hard through my chest, I march upstairs.

I hate him, I hate everything about him.

This is all his fault, I was flustered when he showed up here and I stuffed it in that laundry basket and completely forgot about it because I don’t even feel comfortable in my own home. How dare he barge himself in here and sleep in my bedroom, that is a private place, my sanctuary.

I can hear Lucia chatting downstairs as I begin to pace back and forth in my bedroom.

With every lap on the carpet, I become more infuriated.

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