I shake him off and find the closest mirror to fix myself in. So much for not fucking my hair up.
Joshua claps his hands together, and I flinch. "So," he says. "Today's client is a self-made billionaire at twenty-something."
I pat my hair down and wipe off the saliva he left on my forehead, making a mental note to douse myself in a gallon of hand sanitizer the second he's gone. Oh what I would give to drown him in a bucket of hand sanitizer...
The thought of murdering him has crossed my mind way too many times. More times than is probably normal for an employee/boss relationship. He's terrible, but there isn't anything I can do about it other than suck it up and deal with his demeaning remarks and wandering hands. He's never crossed the line enough that warrants HR to do anything other than tell me I'm being dramatic or exaggerating.
And since Joshua is friends with the owner of this building, it would be me getting fired way before he would be reprimanded for sexual harassment.
"I can handle them," I say with confidence once I've finally salvaged my appearance.
"I'm sure you can." Joshua licks his lips and raises his eyebrows. "You know..." Slowly, he strides toward me, and I step into the kitchen to attempt to navigate out of his path.
But the second my back is turned to him, he quickens his pace and is on me before I can realize what's happening.
I gasp as he spins me around and pushes me up against the counter, pinning me down with his hands on both sides of me.
"Wh-what are you doing?" I push my forearms into his chest, but he doesn't budge.
Instead, he presses into me. "I see the way you look at me. You're playing coy, aren't you, Cora?" He grinds his groin into me, alerting me to his already growing hardness. "We have time, baby. Let me show you what you've been missing." He leans closer, his mouth just next to my ear. "I won't tell anyone if you don't."
My stomach turns, and bile rises in the back of my throat. If I thought things were already worse in my life, boy was I mistaken. If it's not one guy trying to take my body for his enjoyment, it's fucking another. When will men get it through their heads that women do not belong to them?
"You've got it wrong," I tell Joshua and try to get him off me again. "I'm...I'm seeing someone." It's a lie, but usually, the only one that men seem to respect enough to quit. It's like their bro-code kicks in, and instead of accepting a woman just isn't interested, they accept that another man has claimed them.
Joshua laughs. "Oh baby, I'm married but that isn't stopping this from happening."
Sheer panic courses through me. There's at least another fifteen minutes before the client arrives, and I'm stuck here, at the mercy of whatever Joshua intends to do with me. I'm not strong enough to overpower him, and he's made it clear that I have no say in the matter.
Joshua lowers his arm to grip my hip, gliding his hand down to take a firm grasp of my ass. He snakes his fingers to the waistband of my dress pants and yanks hard, ripping the seams and causing me to stumble. "Yeah, I bet you fucking like it rough, don't you?"
Tears well in my eyes and drip down onto the tablet still in my possession. And with his grimy fucking hands now exploring my body, I use the lack of being completely caged in and pressed against him to free my own arm and crack him over the side of the head with the tablet.
"Fucking bitch," he blurts out and stumbles back.
Joshua touches his forehead and then glances at his crimson-soaked hand.
I rush past him, desperate to make it to the door and get the fuck away from him. My client will have to wait, because my top priority is putting as much distance as possible between me and this sad excuse of a man.
But despite his bulky size, he moves quicker than I can anticipate and latches onto my hand, spinning me around and toward him. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" He drags me in closer. "We aren't done here." Joshua grazes his nose through my hair. "We're done when I say we are."
Trembling, I struggle to process how I'm going to get out of this. I could simply give in, let him have his way with me, and maybe I'll make it out of this alive. Or I could fight, and there's no telling how far he'll take this. If he kills me, what will happen to the deal with Ricardo? Will he care if someone else beats him to having their way with me? Will he rid my parents of their debt because of some technicality? The answer is more than likely no. It's safe to say neither one of these men is reasonable and I'm going to have to succumb to both of them.
When have I ever given in so fucking easily, though? I have fought for everything I have in life, why should this man get to take that away from me?
"Fine," I tell him. "Fine. You're right." I meet his gaze and place my hands on his chest. "But please, don't be so aggressive. It's not attractive."
Joshua hesitates but within a moment I sense the shift in dynamic, he's fallen for my trap. He swallows harshly and allows the smallest bit of space between us. "Tell me how you want it, baby. I've been dying for this moment for so long."
My skin crawls but I do everything I can to maintain my composure. "Me, too," I lie and look past him, hungry to find anything to help me out of my mess. That's when I spot it—my saving fucking grace.
"How about over here?" I nod my head in the direction I want him to go and he eats up every bit of it.
"Yeah? You want me to bend you over that island, baby?"
"Mmhm," I mumble and walk as much as he's willing to let me away from him, his clammy palm resting on my lower back.
We make it over to the edge of the elaborate piece of hand-chosen granite countertop and he nudges me into it, the force no doubt going to bruise where it impacted.
