The Tenant by Sotia Lazu Page B

Amanda couldn’t afford to be understanding. Still, she was being more difficult than was good for either her or him, so maybe she could try to be nicer until he moved out—which would still need to be as soon as possible.
    “No!” she yelled back, leaning her head against the wall so the shower jet could hit her shoulders. She’d start being nicer in the morning. For the time being, she wasn’t feeling it.
    “I need to use the toilet.” Derek rattled the door handle. “You don’t have enough of a body to be washing it for that long.”
    “Use the guest bathroom,” she said and lathered her hair with a second helping of shampoo.
    “I can’t. My stuff’s in there.”
    So that was where he’d put the junk she’d taken out of her room. “Well, use the balcony. Or the kitchen sink. I don’t care. I’m enjoying my shower.” Screw being nice. She severely disliked him. Her fingers rubbed furious circles on her scalp.
    “What kind of a house were you brought up in?” he asked.
    She stuck her head under the water. If he really used the kitchen sink, she’d soak his bed with toilet bowl water. “You can hold it. You’re a big boy.” The corners of her lips tugged upward.
    “You realize I can kick my way in, don’t you? Door’s flimsy.”
    “I think destruction of property might be a valid enough reason for me to get rid of you with the law on my side. I bet I could add voyeurism charges to that.” Her threat seemed to do the trick, because he finally shut up.
    She took her time shaving her legs and underarms, rinsing her body, and brushing her teeth. Her beauty regime done, she put on her robe and exited, ready to get into Derek’s face.
    She didn’t get to. He rushed past her and into the bathroom, grumbling.
    “Enjoy,” she called out, padding barefoot to her room. When there was no reply, she shrugged and closed her door behind her. Minutes later, she heard his door sliding shut, and a key turning. Was he afraid she’d sneak in his bedroom in the middle of the night?
    Her mood was better than it had been since lunch. The shower and her chance to torture Derek just a little bit had relaxed her. She’d call Mason to see how he was doing, and then she’d pamper herself. Moisturizing cream, nail clippers, nail file, and natural nail polish were all put into a neat row. She pulled back her chair and her foot landed on something.
    “Ow.”
    When she looked down, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Her anal beads lay on the floor, most definitely not where she’d last seen them. Derek had been in her bedroom. He’d snooped through her very personal things.
    She felt violated.
    She was furious.
    Screw being nice, indeed.
    Not bothering to tie the robe’s sash, she strode to Derek’s room and banged on his door.
     

Chapter Eight
    “You jerk! You went through my stuff!”
    Derek didn’t feel like letting her in. He didn’t know how she’d found out, but she sounded livid. “Go away, I’m sleeping.”
    “Let me in, or I’ll break down the door.”
    “Will you huff and puff first?”
    Maybe he’d gone a bit overboard, disrespecting her privacy. In his defense—or maybe not—he hadn’t expected her to find out. She had, and it made sense for her to yell and call him names. Even make empty threats.
    What he couldn’t wrap his mind around was that she would kick in the door, stride to his bed, and throw her anal beads on his head.
    Or that she’d be practically naked while doing so.
    For a moment, he simply lay there, stunned, sheets pulled up to his waist. His mind short-circuited, trying to decide what to deal with first—and the possibilities were many. From what he’d seen through her open robe, Amanda had nice tits. A tiny woman had kicked his locked door open. Said tiny woman was the first he’d seen without clothes, in the flesh, since Catherine. He should have left the overhead light on, because his table lamp didn’t exactly illuminate the room properly. Amanda had nice tits.