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Once the meal was over, we returned to the bar area. One or two of his colleagues were already drunk, and I spotted the one that had knocked me over. He weaved his way to us.
“You banged her then?” he said to Andrew. I stepped back a little. “With those tits, I’d do her as well. Fancy a threesome, love?”
I recoiled in shock, but made the mistake of laughing. I really wasn’t sure how to respond and the laugh was more from embarrassment and certainly not because I found him funny.
Andrew gripped my wrist and led me out towards the toilets.
“Slow down, I can’t walk that fast in these heels,” I said, chuckling.
Before we got to wherever he was leading me, he halted abruptly. He slammed me against the wall, holding me with his hand on my chest.
“Did you have to laugh?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean?”
I felt panic rise in my throat. “Bet you’d fucking love his cock inside you, wouldn’t you?”
The vulgarity of his words shook me to my core. He’d been nothing but well-spoken until then. I opened my mouth to speak but couldn’t form the words.
He slapped my face.
I gasped.
I tried to push him away, and he only stepped back when a couple of women walked down the corridor heading to the ladies.
I turned to look at them and before they could speak to me, he leaned in and kissed me hard. He forced his tongue down my throat, they chuckled and carried on walking. I guessed they assumed we were happily making out.
When he stepped back, he looked so full of remorse. His eyes were brimming with tears.
“Oh God, Amber, I’m so sorry. Please, please forgive me. I got so jealous for a moment. I can promise you that will never happen again. My ex, she cheated on me, and when I saw you laugh, I thought of what she did. I can’t bear that I’ve hurt you. Please let me make it up to you?”
He rambled on, holding my face in his hands, trying to soothe the soreness on my cheek.
“I can’t believe I did that. If you want to leave me, I’ll accept it. What I’ve done is unforgiveable. But when you laughed, I thought it meant that you wanted that to him.”
“I don’t want him at all,” I replied, my voice a little croaky from emotion.
“He’s going to think that.”
“You can tell him I don’t, can’t you?”
“Yes, of course, my darling. I wouldn’t let him touch you! Do you forgive me?”
We were back to the child and, stupidly, I believed him.
I sighed. “Yes, I forgive you, but please don’t do that again.”
“Pinky promise,” he said, holding up his little finger and smiling at me.
I rolled my eyes and laughed.
“Let’s go home, shall we?” he said. I was hoping he meant to his house, one I hadn’t visited.
Instead, once outside, he flagged down a taxi and gave my address.
Once inside, he asked if I’d undress in front of him. He kept his hand down the front of his trousers, pleasuring himself as I did. I wanted to please him, to make him happy, more so after the evening we’d had. I was sure I’d made him mad by laughing inappropriately at his friend’s comment, and I wanted to make that up to him.
We made love, and it was getting better. He spent some time touching me, kissing my body, but it was still so short lived. Ten minutes later, he rolled to his back and sighed in contentment.
