Page 8 of Professor

I curled my hands into tight fists at my sides as I moved through the club, pushing my way past people dancing, all but having sex together. The very thought of some bastard putting his hands on Grace, touching her when she was mine, had impatience and anger filling me.

I stopped at the bar and looked around, the place so crowded I couldn’t even breathe.

Although I didn’t see her immediately, I wasn’t about to give up. She was here, I could feel it. Or maybe it was my need to protect her, even from herself, from her friends, that had me wanting to be the one to rescue her.

I wanted to be her knight in fucking shining armor.

I turned and looked in the other direction, scanning back in the corner, where the tables were slightly shrouded by the shadows, only intermittent flashes of light piercing it.

And then I saw Grace, sitting at a table with her friend and the guy that had been at the coffee shop. They were currently involved in a passionate kiss, her friend all but sitting on his lap.

But Grace wasn’t paying attention to them. She had her focus on the dance floor, and even from a distance I could see how pink her cheeks were, how glossy her eyes were.

She was drunk.

I straightened from the bar, knowing that storming up to her probably wasn’t the best plan but wanting to do just that, to pull her against my body, to tell her I was taking her out of here.

A rush of people came to the bar, blocking my path to her. And then I could see a guy walk up to Grace, lean down and say something softly. She shook her head and smiled, embarrassment covering her expression. He said something again and straightened, the smile he wore cocky.

He held out his hand to her. Grace looked behind her at her friend, but she’d get no help there. And when she looked back at him, his grin spread.

She slipped her hand into his and he helped her stand, leading her out to the dance floor. The song changed to something more sexual, and I narrowed my eyes and clenched my jaw as I watched him wrap his arm around her waist and pull her close to his body.

I’d break his hands for touching her.

I growled low, the vibrations in my throat the only thing that let me know the sound had spilled free. I couldn’t even hear myself think in this fucking place.

It wouldn’t have mattered anyway because all I could think about, focus on, was getting to Grace … getting that fucker away from her.

7

Grace

He was sweaty, and he smelled like beer. It was gross, and I felt slightly uncomfortable. He started grinding up on me, and I instantly regretted agreeing to dance with him. The feel of his erection digging against my belly, the feel and smell of his humid, beer-laced breath on my neck had me all but gagging.

This felt so wrong.

But he’d seemed nice as he held his hand out, looked kind of pathetic begging me for just one dance. I should’ve gone with my instinct and told him no, kept my resolve. But here I was, regretting every moment of it, thinking of how to get out of the situation.

I wasn’t really even dancing and instead grabbed his hands to push them away from my hips. He leaned in and the feel of his hot, wet breath on the side of my neck had me scrunching up my nose.

“I should probably go,” I said loud enough for him to hear, all but shouting the words. He didn’t hear me or wasn’t listening. He added pressure to my hips and pulled me closer until I felt how hard he was.

That’s when survival kicked in.

This guy wasn’t going to stop even if I shouted no in his face. He’d either had too much to drink or he was just a dirty asshole.

I shoved at his shoulders, and he pulled me in closer, caging his arms around me. I yelled at him, tried to kick him, fear taking hold. I couldn’t move, couldn’t get out of his grasp. The panic was setting in, and with the music too loud, the alcohol flowing too strong, and everyone else focused on their dance partners, no one noticed I needed help.

“Stop,” I cried out and shoved at his chest again.

“Calm down,” he groaned against the side of my neck. “This feels good, doesn’t it?”

I shook my head. “Stop. I don’t want to dance anymore.” I tried pushing at his chest, but he was stronger than me and kept his hold ironclad.

I tried looking to where Sherry was, but we’d moved farther away from the table and I couldn’t make her out through the thick throng of people.

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