Thirty
"Stop that."
"No."
"Please." I huff in faux anger while Brandon holds his phone above his head, making me unable to reach the evil device that keeps producing moan sounds. "Please," I try again, this time with a pout and puppy eyes.
He takes one long look at me, chuckles and pauses the recording. Leaving me alone on the bed, he retrieves a small box from his suitcase. I groan in protest as what he is about to do hits me, soon enough my moans reverberate through the speaker in his hand. Goosebumps cover my skin when he chuckles again and I scowl, so annoying.
"I hate you," I say with my eyes downcast.