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I glanced at the clock above the gallery entrance, hoping it was almost time to leave. Jesus fucking Christ. How could 30 minutes feel like 30 years?
Simon quirked an eyebrow. “You have to be somewhere else?”
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the restroom then it’s time for me to leave. I promised my dad I’d check in on my grandma. She’s not feeling great, and, well, it’s getting late.” Every word I’d just said was a total lie. My dad died when I was five, and my grandma passed away a few years back, but Simon didn’t know that.
Without waiting for a reply, I made my way to the back of the gallery and walked down a low-lit hallway filled with ladders, loose electrical wires, and blank canvases. I wasn’t really going to the restroom, I was looking for the back door so I could make my escape unseen.
Footsteps echoed behind me.
I quickened my pace. The exit must be around here somewhere.
The footsteps drew closer.
“Our night isn’t over yet, babe. Not by a long shot.”
Shit.
Simon.
From behind, he cuffed my wrist with his hand in a possessive gesture that said mine.
He spun me around to face him.
“Get your fucking hands off me, babe.” I attempted to shake myself free, but his grip was a powerful one. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Your boss, that’s who the hell I think I am, and I’m not ready for tonight to end, not by a long shot. You really going to ditch me for dear ol’ granny?”
I dug the nails of my free hand into the back of his hand and smiled sweetly. “Let me go right now. If you don’t, I’ll tell everyone exactly what and who you are.”
A hurricane of rage beat against my chest. I ached to kick him in the balls, but I was afraid of the rumors he’d spread about me at work if I let my inner hulk escape.
Anger twisted his face, and he spat out, “Fucking tease.”
I jerked back at the gassy stench wafting from his mouth.
“Charming,” I said with a tilt of my head and a twist of my lips. “I think it’s time I went home. Name calling is something best left on the playground, don’t you think?”
He released my wrist, but before I could make my escape, he wrapped a hand around my bicep and, digging his fingers into my skin, he pushed me against a wall.
“You little slut,” he hissed in a whisper. “You’ve been flirting with me since day one. Coming into my office with your short little skirts. Licking your lips. Giggling.”
I flattened my back against the wall. “You have me confused with someone else. I didn’t do any of those things. For starters, I don’t giggle. And I’d hardly call knee length skirts short.”
He pressed his crotch to my hip and the head of what felt like a toothpick sized dick nudged against me.
“If you want to keep your job you’ll do exactly as I say when I say it. I’m not going home tonight without you sucking my cock and then swallowing my cum. Is that clear?”
“Let me go.” Fear trickled down my spine, and I glanced around for possible escape routes. “I’ll scream my head off.”
Not only was he an arrogant, self-conceited fucktard, but he obviously didn’t understand the meaning of no and not interested.
“No, you won’t.”
I opened my mouth to scream, but before I could make a sound, he cupped his clammy palm around the lower half of my face.
I struggled to free myself from his grip, but it was no use, he was too strong and much too overpowering.
He lowered his head until our eyes met. They were cold and filled with malice. No way was I getting out of this without getting hurt. “I’m going to remove my hand, and if you even make a squeak, I’ll make your life hell. Understand?”
I nodded.
“Good girl.”
He moved his hand from my mouth and then brushed the tip of a calloused finger down my cheek. Uncontrollable shivers shook my body. Tears burned my eyes, but I wouldn’t cry—I wouldn’t. No way in hell would I give him the satisfaction.
“I’ve got something in my pocket that’ll loosen you up. Make you pliable if you get my meaning.”
“Let me go,” I said through clenched teeth. I reached up and grasped my mystic star necklace. If ever there was a time I needed it to work, now was that time.
He pressed his thigh between my legs and wedged me against the wall. “You’re not going anywhere. Fucking me is a rite of passage for all of you little number-crunching bitches. If you don’t do what I want, don’t bother coming into the office on Monday.”
“Fuck you? Ha! Over my dead body.”
“That can be arranged.”
Fight or flight kicked in, and adrenaline surged through my bloodstream. I slammed my forehead against his nose and heard a satisfying crack.
