Victor Sorkins grey eyes narrowed as he listened to Slaters story for perhaps the fifth time since Slater and Wilcox had returned to the compound without his pet. To the mans credit, his story never wavered. He was entirely certain about the timeline of events from beginning to end.
As Slater had known he would, Victor had made the phone call to the arms dealer in the hotel in San Francisco.
Tell me, Mr. Smith, hed purred, rolling his eyes at the ludicrous moniker, how did you enjoy my pet?
She was fine, the man had replied. But I could see why you needed a break from all the talking. The only time she shut up was when my cock was in her mouth.
Victor had frowned. She talked too much?
I now know more about reality television than I ever wanted to know. But she was sweet, and she gave great head, so The man had trailed off. I was sorry your men had to pick her up early. I was looking forward to another go.