Chapter 41
Iscowled at the ceiling, my arms weighed down by Sinclair’s meaty one. I’d expected him to be gone when I woke, but here he was.
After fucking me until I could do nothing more than pass out, he stayed in the room, tending to me. He cleaned between my legs with more care than I’d expected and held me until I fell asleep. When I woke up, he was still here, and since I’d opened my eyes, Sinclair never stopped talking.
Not only that, he was always twitching. The man couldn’t stay still to save his life.
I shoved his hand off my inner thigh, where it kept finding its way back. He stayed away for about ten seconds until it miraculously started at my knee again and slowly found itself back on my thigh, all while he kept talking.
And talking. Specifically about a reality show where contestants try to get each other out.
“You’re not going to stop until I agree to watch it.”
“Yup.” He popped “p” with emphasis.
“If it’ll make this stop,” I gritted through my teeth.
A shrill ding invaded, and he grabbed his phone from beside him and looked at the screen. “They’re finally gone.” He swatted my thigh. “Get dressed.”
“Why do I need to get dressed to watch a game reality show?” Was this some sort of kink?
“We’re going out.”
I hesitantly repeated the same phrase.
“What’s difficult to understand about that?”
I opened and closed my mouth and then just pointed at my ankle monitor. “We have to be back before six.”
Parole curfew.
His smile held an impish edge. I narrowed my gaze.
“How did you get me a curfew?”
His smirk widened. “I have ways.” He shrugged, and the secretive look on his face made me not want to ask any further questions.
For a split second, I considered being difficult and telling him that he was crazy, but the lure of being outside was too severe to ignore.
I rolled off the bed, shucked off my clothes, and pulled an outfit from the drawers.
Sinclair groaned, but I didn’t turn to look at him; instead, I finished dressing.
I shook my foot, but the device didn’t let my leggings go any lower. Whatever, I wasn’t going to take the pants off to replace them.
“All ready.” I turned, fists on my hips.
“Put a jumper on, it’s chilly out.” He was already walking to the long compartment attached to the dresser. I tensed at his proximity, but he was too busy pulling a fluffy coat off the hanger.
“Arms,” he ordered gruffly.
“I can do it.” He caught my hand and started shoving it into the coat. He held out the other side, and I shoved it through. He swatted my hands away from the zipper and slowly dragged it over me.
Warmth grew in my belly.
I gritted my teeth. Keep it together!
“You’re a beauty.” He cupped the side of my face, and I barely moved before his lips touched mine.
I stepped back.
“Don’t push it,” I warned, leveling him with a glare. He put both hands up, that smirk crossing his lips. He walked around me, making a show of giving me an exaggerated amount of space.
I trailed behind him, passing through a very quiet house.
“Where are the others?”
“Getting things done.” He shrugged. “Just you and me today, sweets. And we’d best hurry up. They don’t want you out at all unless all of us are with you, so I’m kind of breaking the rules right now.”
“Out of the goodness of your heart?” I said, sarcastically.
“There is no good in my heart, sweets.” He stopped and pinched the bottom of my chin, lifting it toward him. “Other than for you.”
Anything I was about to say became stuck in my throat. Sinclair curled his arm behind me and shuffled me out of the house, his hand squeezing my hip.
Snake arms, I swear.
I shuffled out behind him, and he led me to the car, opening the passenger door. He leaned down, and his mouth neared mine. I turned away, and the kiss landed on my cheek.
Sinclair pulled back with a loud pop. I scowled at him as he retreated, but he rounded the car, and his muffled whistling invaded through the cracked window.
He hopped in and said, “Ready to go shopping?” The sports car revved to life.
Shopping. Such a far-off, weird concept. I didn’t think I’d have the chance for something so simple anymore.
“Langley Mall is a bit much, no?” I muttered, my sandals slapping against the tile.
In the months I’d been homeless, I’d learned to shop at the dollar stores and anywhere cheap enough to stretch my savings out. The mindset shift had been difficult, but I’d survived.
Langley Mall was the antithesis of all that.
It smelled expensive as hell.
“You should get yourself some shoes.”
“Clothes first.” I veered to the right onto the carpeted floor. They’d gotten me a lot of lounge clothes already, but nothing professional, and certainly nothing for a party. I wanted to be ready in case they tried to use it as an excuse not to take me.
Sinclair grabbed a thick, puffy jacket that would engulf me.
“It’s not that cold.”
He shrugged, a secretive smile on his lips; he was up to something. But I didn’t have the energy to prod more.
I reached the dressing room and slid the hangers over to look at different options.
I selected a few in my size and laid them over his arm.
One of the tags flashed as I did, and I tried not to swallow my tongue.
Everything was brand-name, so I shouldn’t have been stunned by the three-digit tag.
I grabbed a black-and-tan coat and piled it on top of what he already held.
The top of the stacked clothes reached his chin.
Not my money.
I rolled my shoulders like I should shake off my reservations.
Now for shoes. We crossed the alcove, leading into a bunch of perfumes and colognes, until I stepped onto the section where lots of shoes were displayed. I zeroed in on the heels I wanted and then some sneakers within seconds. This time, there were no prices, which worked for me.
A saleswoman approached, her smile brilliant. Her Omega scent tickled my nose. “Welcome to Langley’s. Can I help you with anything?”
Her gaze bounced from me to Sinclair. I didn’t miss her looking at my neck where the claiming bites were.
“Can I get these in an eight?” I held up each shoe.
“Of course. I’ll take those.” She handled them gingerly, as if she were making a point. She left, and I turned my attention to Sinclair.
“Are you trying them on?”
I shook my head. “I know my size.” I was trying to hide it, but I was already good to go. Hatred was too harsh a word to describe my feelings about shopping, but I was ready to leave and find a damn cigarette.
“Is this where you guys shop?”
“Elias loves this damn store.”
“Here you are, ma’am.” She came back, and her attention snagged on my ankle monitor, and her grip on the boxes stiffened. “Are you able to . . .”
She cleared her throat and really looked at me, scanning me from head to toe.
Instead of grappling for the box, I let it go, my lips pressing into a thin line.
“Afford this?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. I scanned her too, returning her energy.
“Did you ask my Omega if she could afford this?” Sinclair’s tone was silky and threatening. The saleswoman stiffened, her mouth dropping.
“You,” he snarled, dominance in his tone. A small female Beta walking the floor immediately paid attention. He dumped all the items in the woman’s arms. She scrambled to hold everything.
“Let’s go, sweets,” he growled, crowding into my back.
“It’s not a big deal,” I muttered. I didn’t want to go to a different store. “We’ll pay. Bring them to the cashier.”
Sinclair bristled, and the women exchanged a harried look, hurrying forward.
“What did you do?” the second woman whispered. The BellRose music blaring from the speakers wasn’t enough to block them out.
Sinclair’s hand settled on my waist, and he tugged me close to him. The protective move startled a gasp out of me. Sinclair visibly bristled, his jaw jumping, and irritation settling on his features. His anger flashed through our bond. Oh, he was pissed.
His protectiveness caused butterflies to take flight in my stomach. I pulled my focus off him. Time for a distraction. The electronic section snagged me.
I’d had to sell my laptop a month before I’d run to Greymont Pack. My attention trailed to the stand.
You know what? Fuck it. It wasn’t me spending the money.
“Wait,” I announced, sliding out of his hold, and walked over to the stand.
I grabbed one from the stack and tucked it under one of my arms. I peeked at Sinclair, and a small smirk played at his mouth. He pressed a hand to my back and led me to the cashier, where the saleswomen stood.
The Omega spoke quickly to the male behind the cashier and the other woman Sinclair had dragged into the mess. A privacy screen blocked each section of the booth.
“Hurry it up,” Sinclair ordered, sounding like a douche.
“Yes, sir,” they all gasped, moving quickly. The male scanned, while the women folded everything into felt bags. With each ding, all their eyes grew wider and wider. Once the counter was clear, I placed the laptop on the surface.
He scanned it while Sinclair reached into his pocket and pulled out a metal-looking card. It shimmered as the lights above caught the metal.
The cashier’s mouth dropped open.
“Mr. Greymont,” he choked out, face paling. “I am so terribly sorry for your experience today. We had no idea one of our gold members was here.”
“So only the people with a reputation and money deserve the respect?” I said, crossing my arms.
“I want her fired,” Sinclair announced, jerking his chin at the Omega.
She choked in a breath.
“An apology is fine,” I interjected, putting my hand on his arm.
“I am so sorry,” she apologized, facing me, her body angled away from Sinclair.
I didn’t respond to her, or even look at her, only grunted.
They finished packing the last of our items.
“We’ll have our associates walk these to the car for you—”
“Not necessary,” Sinclair snapped and grabbed the bags, balancing them in his arms. “Let’s go home, sweets.”
He jerked his chin, waiting for me to walk ahead of him. I moved, and he followed on my heels.