Page 44 of Sinful Bargain

13

WE WERE WRONG

GABRIEL

“Stop breathing so damn heavy,” I bark as Brooke tiptoes around the obstacles I’ve placed for her.

We’ve been working for days on her stealth, which is admittedly a strong skill of hers with her dancer body, but I’m not about to let her get too confident.

She’s great at hand-to-hand combat despite her lack of strength, but we save that for the end of training, as it leads to other activities.

“What did I tell you about stepping into the light?”

“There’s not always going to be a shadow to step into!” she whines.

“Yeah, but you just put yourself in front of three ragers.”

She looks at the cardboard cutouts I’ve set up. “There are only two!”

“Three!”

Her brow pinches. “Public education must be worse than I thought.”

“Look down.”

She does, and when she sees what I’m talking about, she reaches down and rips a cardboard Shaquille O’Neal out from under the sofa bed. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“That’s it, you’re dead.” I throw her a bag of beef jerky. “At this rate, I am never letting you outside.”

“I just ate.”

“Then eat some more.”

“You could feed me fifty pounds of food a day and I still won’t gain much.”

“Then I’ll feed you one hundred.”

She throws the jerky down. “I’d rather you fill me with other meat.”

I chuckle, despite my intention of being serious. “Honestly, same.”

For the last few days, it’s been feasting and fucking, with some combat skills thrown in. If she so much as tries to skip a snack, I threaten her with abstinence and she goes into mukbanging mode, devouring everything in sight.

Including my cock.

“What are your friends like?”

“Horny.”

“No, seriously.”

“Don’t doubt my sincerity. For most of them, it’s been months since they’ve been laid.”

“Any friends around the city?”

“I’ve told you about the Vultures, who we give supplies to in exchange for them burning the corpses. It’s probably time we sever that tie.”

“Why?”

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