Page 42 of House of Deceit

“What?” His tone tells me he’s giving me a chance to change what I said, but I decide to double down.

“Prove. It.”

My gaze locks with his. As his eyes harden again and he sits up straight, I worry I crossed a line I didn’t see.

“You do not give the commands here. I do.”

I lick my lips. The cold man before me doesn’t turn me off; just the opposite.

“Yes, sir.”

I don’t know why I say it. He’s hardly older than me, but in this moment, it’s the only thing I can think to say.

Hungry pleasure seems to light his eyes.

“That’s a good girl. Let’s get started. Untuck your legs.”

Praise has never been a big deal to me, but each nerve ending in me is on fire.

Following his direction, I put my feet on the ground as he flips the camera on to record with zero acknowledgment that I have melted into a puddle of desire in front of him.

I’ve never been one for dirty talk. Mark and Scott sounded more like they were trying to reenact a bad porn but couldn’t deliver the lines well.

But I think I’d do almost anything to have Alec King tell me I was a good girl again.

He crosses his ankle over his leg, the default pose he takes with me.

“Tell me about your week so far,” he says, and that’s our cue for me to be Charlie Price, contestant on House of Deceit.

“This week has been so great. Getting to know everyone has been a lot of fun. Keith has been really surprising me with his friendship, but I love talking to him about his farm back home. I have a list of about fifty movies to watch when I get back home.” I laugh.

It sounds breathy and fake to me, but it doesn’t matter. The people at home don’t know the real me and they never really will. What’s a fake laugh between us.

I lock eyes with Alec, putting a sly smile on my face.

“But the person I’ve enjoyed getting to know the most has been Parker.”

It has been seventy hours since my team lost the privilege challenge this week. Seventy-two hours since the last time I tasted the sweet nectar of a French roast as it slid down my throat, the caffeine thrumming through my veins, and nothing makes me more vengeful than a lack of caffeine.

The smell of Keith’s coffee makes me want to launch myself over the table and tackle him to the ground. As the Head Deceiver this week, he didn’t have to participate in the challenge, which just adds to my hostility. Luckily for Carter, he was eliminated before I could execute my vendetta against him, while I settled in the middle of the pack.

For the past few days, my head has been throbbing to the point where I can hardly think. My caffeine headaches have been debilitating with the inadvertent cold turkey approach to not drinking as many cups of coffee in the morning.

But not only have we been denied coffee, we have also been relegated to oatmeal, unseasoned chicken, and broccoli for every meal until the week resets on Sunday night. The only drink we can have is water.

I miss my food having taste.

And salt.

Molly sings as she cooks in the kitchen. One of the winning team members, she’s allowed to eat whatever she wants. Penelope and Lucas make out at the other end of the table, but I’m so starved for delicious food they don’t register in my mind.

The handle of my spoon cuts into the palm of my hand, I’m squeezing it so hard.

“I feel like you’re about to stab me in the throat with your spoon, girl,” Keith says in his no-nonsense way.

“It might be worth it for a sip of your coffee.”

He smiles at me from beneath his big, bushy mustache.

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