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4
Ungmennabækur
My enemy had seen me naked. He was holding the proof right before my eyes, and my stomach lurched sickeningly.
"Seems like you had too much to drink last night," he remarked in that condescending tone he always used with me.
I looked up at him as he stood watching me from the doorway with his attitude of superiority. In that moment of weakness, I actually tried to plead with him. "Please. I've never done anything to you."
"Begging me on your knees. That's a good start."
Dread turned my clammy skin cold. Mason Sumner hated my guts, and he would have no compassion for me. This was bad. This was really, really bad.
© 2020 Suzana Thompson (Hljóðbók): 9781735885322
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Hljóðbók: 2 oktober 2020
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