“I’ve had a great time, Dyl, but I really should be heading out,” I say. He’s starting to give me the creeps, more than he’s ever done before. “I still need to make it to work in the morning.”
“Oh, yeah,” he checks the time on his cellphone. “Shit, it’s ten already? Let me walk you out.”
I accept with a sigh, because I don’t see him letting me leave alone.
We don’t speak on the walk over to my car, and as I begin to thank him for the nice night out and reach for the door handle, Dylan leans his back against it and stops me from getting in.
“I wasn’t kidding when I said your mouth drives me crazy. It’s plump and juicy.” He raises a hand up to my shoulder, and rests it there gently. “I bet they’re soft, too.”
Touching is a no-no…
But I can’t manage to pull myself away. My entire body seizes up, which gives his fingers unspoken consent to move against my cheek, and his eyes linger on my lips for an awkwardly long time.
“I’m not sure what to say to that.” I reply. Every stroke against my cheek makes me lock up harder until my muscles are screaming for release.
I suspect that’s a learned reaction. One created on the night Tom Henderson strapped me to a table and—
Oh fuck.
“Then don’t say anything.” Dylan twists his wrist and latches onto my shoulder in a firm grip. “Just get on your knees and show me if I’m right.”
“What the fuck?” I spit, my body finally finding enough strength to pull back from his hand.
My sudden jerk makes Dylan tighten his grip even more, until he’s pinching against a nerve that radiates a dull ache throughout my body.
“Dylan, stop. You’re hurting me,” I plead, leaning into his hand in search of reprieve.
“Come on, Lil. Don’t you like working at The Barkhouse?” he asks, changing tactics when he sees the direct approach isn’t working.
“Not if it means—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Darkness flickers in his eye and the boyish smile he was wearing twists into a scowl. “You’re going to suck my cock one way or another, Lil. Wouldn’t you prefer doing it on your own terms?”
He presses down on my shoulder with so much forcethat my knees buckle and I fall onto them. Asphalt shreds the bare skin beneath my skirt, and I yell out. But shouting isn’t going to get me anywhere.
I start flailing my arms and twisting my body to break free. I yank and pull and tug in every direction, but his ironclad grip doesn’t release me.
“It would’ve been so much easier if you weren’t so fucking stubborn,” Dylan growls. He adjusts his hand, moving it from my shoulder to the back of my neck and pulls me forward against his groin.
He groans in a delighted way.
I scream into the night. It’s a mix of nonsensical words and noises aimed to catch anyone’s attention. The closest I’ve come so far was the yelping howl from his initial grab, but if no one came then, I doubt they’ll run over now. It doesn’t help that the parking lot is empty apart from a few drunken stragglers, who are limping lopsidedly to their cars. They can’t even stand upright, there’s little chance they’ll rush to my aid.
“Stop this,” I beg, but it’s far too late for that. I know it. He knows it.
Savoring his twisted control, Dylan moves his free hand back to my face and drags his thumb over my lower lip. He shudders, forcing the digit between my lips as an appetizer for what’s to come. My gag reflex goes off at the metallic taste of his thumb being forced to the back of my throat. Tears flood my eyes and my stomach threatens to spill its contents all over his shoes.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers. “No one’s coming to save you. Enjoy yourself.”
“You’re right.” A new voice comes from out of nowhere.
I crumble forward, heaving oxygen into my lungs like a starving man at a five-star meal. He wasn’t strangling me,sure, but he lodged his finger far enough down my throat that it restricted my breathing.
“Who the fuck are you?” Dylan’s screech reaches a level so high-pitched, I’m sure it’s caught the attention of every dog in the neighborhood.
“I’m no one.”
That voice…
