How to Destroy a Rich Boy

Chapter Twenty-Six

Nathan awkwardly cleared his throat, which further added to the humiliating atmosphere. I'm not even sure how it got to that kinky scene so fast; it's like it decided to spontaneously skip itself with the sole aim of humiliating me. 

Nathan cleared his throat once again, and I reluctantly rolled over before sitting up to face him.

 He blinked back at me. "So, erm, I'm going to pretend that the last couple minutes didn't just happen," he said slowly.

 I nodded my head vigorously. "Yup, yes, sounds like a plan to me, excellent," I said with a nervous laugh as I leaned back up against my headboard.

Nathan, now out of his shocked state, re-firmed his grip on his tray and made his way over to me. Softly, he placed it down on the nightstand before turning back my way.

 "I think you've had enough of this junk," he said as he snatched the Dorito packet out from beneath my covers.

"Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you? Give that back," I yelled. 

I crawled to the end of the bed in fury and tried to snatch it back. Seeing that I was about to take it, Nathan chucked the packet to the far side of the room. 

 I let out a loud cry of frustration and shot Nathan a furious look. "You're an actual asshole," I spat. 

With a huff, I swung my legs off the side of the bed to go get the packet. Before my feet had so much as touched the floor, Nathan swooped an arm underneath my legs and tucked them back underneath the covers.

"Nope, you're not going anywhere until you eat this soup," he stated firmly. 

Reaching for the bowl on the nightstand, he dumped it unceremoniously on my lap before taking a seat at the edge of the bed.

I snorted as though he had told me a funny joke. "No, I think you're mistaken. Sophie doesn't eat soup," I explained patronizingly as I lifted the bowl from my lap; and onto his.

Nathan didn't hesitate before putting the bowl right back into my lap. "Well, Sophie, eats soup now because it's good for her. Sophie had a nasty fall, and she needs to make her body healthy," he argued, imitating my tone of voice.

I flashed him a fake smile. "Well, Sophie thinks the Dorito's were healing her just fine," I said before, once again dumping the bowl back into his lap.

Nathan let out a heavy sigh and threw his head back dramatically. He looked the same kind of exasperated as a parent trying to feed their temperamental 3-year-old. 

"Why, dear god, do you have to make everything so difficult?" he snapped.

"Because I can," I shrugged.

 Nathan took a deep breath in and out and closed his eyes. When it looked as though he had summoned enough internal strength again, he opened them. 

"Am I going to have to feed you, Sophie? Is this how low we're going to have to stoop?" he said, his eyes narrowing in on mine threateningly.

"Give me my fucking Doritos, and you won't have to," I hissed, losing all my patience. 

With eyes blazing with anger, Nathan shovelled a large spoonful of the tomatoey mess and drove the spoon up to my mouth. 

"Open," he commanded as he gave the spoon an impatient nudge against my tightly closed lips.

 Keeping my lips in a firmly tight firm clasp, I shook my head firmly and turned my head to the side, so the spoon rested against my cheek. Nathan let out a growl of annoyance and directed the spoon a couple of centimeters to the left, so it was at my lips once more.