In the distance, a door slams.
I bite my tongue to keep from screaming.
Then I crawl under one of the stainless steel tables, praying that the heavy footsteps don’t come into the catering kitchen.
What the hell was wrong with me? This is why I stick to romance novels, not real life. Graham’s no romance hero. He’s some sick, twisted psychopath.
The door creaks open.
I can’t see anything in the pitch-dark. But I can feel the air shift.
“I know you’re in here,” the deep voice says softly. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
I crouch as still as I can under the table, my mouth covered.
I’m sure he can hear my heart yammering.
He walks in, his footsteps loud on the stone tiles.
I’ve heard that you’re not supposed to look directly at someone if you’re trying to hide, that they can sense your eyes on them, but I can’t help it. I’m drawn to him.
I hear the footsteps pause then turn like they’re going to head out.
My shoulders slump.
Thank god.
Then two quick steps, and he grabs me by the feet and drags me back out.
“Got you!” He laughs as I scream, my fingernails scraping on the stone floor as I’m dragged to the middle of the kitchen.
“You thought you could hide from me. Why, Dani?” he taunts me. “I thought you wanted me to take your virginity? Make you into a woman.”
“I don’t,” I gasp, trying to push his hands off of me. “Never mind.” I can’t stop shaking. “I want the money and the condo.”
“Too late,” he says mockingly. “I gave you chance after chance, and instead of being grateful, you spit in my face.” His hands are on my waist, and his knee is between my legs, pinning me to the floor.
I try to push at him.
I can’t make out his face; it’s just his hands and that deep, mocking voice.
“If you’d been a little nicer, a little more grateful to me, I could have made your first time nice.”
“Nothing about sleeping with you would have been nice,” I shoot back.
“Your pussy says otherwise.”
“Dick!” I kick at him and try to scrabble away.
He slaps my ass and grabs my hips, pulling me back toward him so he can shove his face between my legs.
I feel his breath hot even between the layers of fabric.
My pussy is a traitorous bitch because I’m wet and aching at the thought of his mouth there.
He holds my wrists down with one hand.
“Could have made sure you were nice and wet and ready for my cock.” His other hand reaches under my skirt to pull off my panties.
