My body heats up, a furious, mortified flush spreading up my neck and face. I wish the ground would just open up and swallow me whole, taking the terrible, gift bags down with me. "Did she open it?" I ask, my voice barely a squeak.
He shrugs, the movement casual. "She did. And she said that we should 'take it easy'."
"Fuck," I hiss, snatching the closest bag, the crinkly wrapping tissue rustling like a thousand tiny judgments.
Vega watches me, a faint, infuriating smirk touching the corner of his mouth. "Why do you need edible panties? And they're peach flavored."
"Fuck! You opened it!" The sheer violation of it makes me want to scream.
He shrugs again, his hands resting on his knees. "It was right there, and I was curious."
I really feel like dying now. I grip the handles of the bags so tightly my knuckles are white.
"And," he continues, his tone perfectly conversational, "using a whip... is that a thing?"
