“I bareley knew how to say "my name is," "please" and "thank you," or "I don't speak english," never mind understanding a Newfoundlander talking to me!”

“I bareley knew how to say "my name is," "please" and "thank you," or "I don't speak english," never mind understanding a Newfoundlander talking to me!”

“Aren't you in my Science class?" Shayna/Shayla asks."English," I correct her.She shoots me a condescending look. "I did speak English," she says defensively. "I said, 'aren't you in my Science class?'"Oh, holy hell. Maybe I don't want to be that blonde. "No," I say. "I meant English as in 'I'm not in your Science class, I'm in your English class'.”

“God. Twice I speak it. I say His name in a futile attempt to understand. "But it's not your job to understand." That's me who answers. God never says anything. You think you're the only one he never answers? "Your job is to..." And I stop listening to me, because to put it bluntly, I tire me.”

“Open your eyes and say my name.”I squeeze them shut more tightly.“It would make my cock hard to hear you say my name.”My eyes pop open. “Jericho Barrons,” I say sweetly.He makes a pained sound. “Bloody hell, woman, I think a part of me wants to keep you this way.”I touch his face. “I like how I am. I like how you are, too. When you are…What is that word you used? Cooperating.”“Tell me to fuck you.”I smile and comply. We’re back in territory I understand.“You didn’t say my name. Say my name when you tell me to fuck you.”“Fuck me, Jerricho Barrons.”“From now on, you will call me Jericho Barrons every time you speak to me.”

“In Shoshone, there's a saying. It's a long one, and it doesn't have an English equivalent, so bear with me.Sutummu tukummuinna. It means, I don't speak your language, and you don't speak mine. But I still understand you. I don't need to walk in your footsteps if I can see the footprints you left behind.”