Page 119 of Sinful Blaze

I hold a hand up to keep him from coming any closer. “There is no ‘us.’ Unless you mean it in terms of this gallery?—”

“You and me, ‘Ne. Us. We can make this work. You always make it work out in the end.”

“There is nothing to work out, Sidney,” I spit. “We’re done. You left.”

“I’m back.” He moves even closer, not stopping until I feel my back press against the wall. “I’m right here. I’m here and I want you.”

My heart is in my throat. Conrad has never been outwardly aggressive toward me; he never gave me enough priority in his life to care enough either way.

But right now, he’s looking at me with this glint in his eye that makes me very, very nervous.

“You need to back up.”

“We need to work things out.”

He wraps his hands around my waist the same time he leans in. Then he pauses and looks down. “Hell, Daphne. You’ve put on some weight.”

“It’s literally none of your business. Back. The hell. Off.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear me. Like he’s in a totally different universe from the one where I’m trying to push him away. His grin turns into a smirk, and he has the balls to wink at me. “We can work that weight off, baby. Don’t you worry.”

I’m done playing nice. I’m also terrified that he’s about to do something to hurt my baby. How did it even get to this point? We haven’t been in this room for more than ten minutes.

I shove hard against his chest. “I mean it. Get off! Get the hell off!”

“Fuck, baby…” His voice purrs in this sickening way when his hands slide up to cup the sides of my breasts. “I take that back. You feel fucking incredible now.”

I try to swallow back my whimper of fear, but there’s no hiding it. Conrad hears it, and clearly mistakes it for something that indicates I’m enjoying this.

“I know you need to punish me.” He presses himself against me despite my desperate attempts to shove him away. “I want you to punish me. Make me work hard for it, baby. I deserve it.”

I pull a hand back to swing at his face, fully intending to slap that horrible glaze of lust out of his eyes. But he grabs my wrist and pins it to the wall. The same thing happens when I try with my other hand, until I’m nearly crushed under his weight and his breath fans along my neck.

“That’s it. Fight me. Make me earn it. Make me earn you.”

“Help!” I don’t care anymore—I don’t care if Todd or Keith or Hazel find me like this, with Conrad, as long as they can put a stop to it. I’m so fucking scared of what this man is going to do and all I can think about is my baby and Pasha and what if. “Somebody help me!”

“Shhhh, relax.” Conrad releases one of my wrists so he can grab my face and hold me there, right where he wants to kiss me. I shake my head furiously, but he only tightens his grip to the point where it’s actually painful. “I just want some time with you, baby. We deserve some time together, after everything.”

I should knee him. I try, but my stupid dress is in the way. And he’s got me so trapped between himself and the wall, I’m lucky I can even kick my feet.

Irritation flickers across his face. But he doesn’t let that stop him. Conrad holds me there, a knowing smirk curling his lips, and he moves to press them against mine in a kiss I swear is going to make me throw up.

A familiar set of manicured nails wrap over his shoulder.

And in one swift motion, Conrad is ripped off me.

“The fuck is going on here?” Sofiya wedges herself between us. I can’t see her face, but her entire body is simmering with rage.

“This is between Daphne and me.” Now, Conrad is officially pissed off. He steps forward and reaches out to push Sofi aside, his gaze set squarely on me.

Again, Sofi grabs him, but this time, it’s for leverage. Her hands grip both his shoulders so she can deliver a knee to his groin hard enough to crush his testicles into baking powder.

His eyes bug out of his head the same time his lungs emit a high-pitched wheezing sound. When he doubles over, Sofi takes the opportunity to uppercut his chin, snapping his head back and making him bite his tongue with enough force that blood starts trickling between his lips.

The man crumples to the floor. Bloody, wheezing, and curled up in the fetal position cradling what’s left of his nuts.

“Are you okay?”

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