Page 30 of The Wages of Sin

Laura was my partner for this job, and even though we’d worked it together for the last three months straight, we’d never spoken more than a few words to each other. Honestly, I had no idea what her opinions on overtime were.

“You don’t have to worry about Laura.” He took a step to block my way, forcing me to move back against the window. “I already sent her home a few minutes ago.”

He what?

My head snapped up, meeting the bastard’s gaze for the first time. His eyes were just as lecherous and foul as I’d imagined them. “Why would you do that?”

His lips slowly curled up in a cruel smile. “Because I’m her boss, and what I say goes.”

Oh, I did not like the sound of that.

“I guess that means I should go too,” I said, trying to squeeze around him, but he wouldn’t budge. “You know Jane—our actual boss—has a rule against being alone in a client’s house.”

“But you’re not alone. You’re with me.” He pressed closer, bracing both his arms against the window. Stuck between them, I was pinned in. “Besides, I’ve heard all about how much you like breaking Jane’s little rules.”

My heart began to hammer in fear, but I managed to keep my chin up, defiant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s not what your colleague, Rose, says. In fact, she had lots to say about you while she was cleaning my friend’s place. She said you stole one of her best jobs out from under her. She also mentioned that you liked to make a little extra money spreading your legs for your clients.”

Oh God. Rose and her damn mouth.

“It’s not true,” I insisted.

But the wiseguy didn’t care. He leaned in close enough to let his hot breath wash over my face. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart. I pegged you as a hot one from the first moment you walked through my door.”

I grimaced in revulsion as he swept his lustful gaze up and down the length of my body.

“I should go,” I said, unable to bring myself to call him “sir” anymore.

“Now, why would you want to do that?” he asked mockingly. “I’ve got plenty of money. Enough to keep you around for a few extra hours, at least.”

“I’m not a prostitute,” I told him plainly.

“Listen, doll,” he said, his stare turning nastier by the second. “I don’t care if you charge or if you give it up for free. The point is you ain’t leaving this apartment until you give me a taste.”

Oh, hell no. This was not happening.

I hadn’t spent the last year and a half crawling my way through hell just to end up being assaulted by some extra from Goodfellas.

“Let me go,” I said, pushing against his chest. When he didn’t budge, I tried shouldering him, but that didn’t work either. The size difference between us was just too great.

“Good. You’re feisty. This is going to be fun,” he gave a mean laugh before opening his fleshy lips and moving in for a kiss.

I turned my head at the last second, dodging the worst of it, but his tongue still squished, wet and slimy, against my cheek.

My stomach roiled, and I felt like I was going to be sick.

But before I could lose my lunch all over his polished Italian shoes, I lifted my hand and slapped him.

He didn’t like that. The bastard’s whole face turned red with rage.

“You fucking bitch!”

Then he pulled back his meaty fist and punched me in the face.

My head snapped back before ricocheting off the window with enough force to crack the glass.

For a moment, I was too dazed to think. My ears rang, and a thousand sparkles lit up the inside of my eyelids. My head swirled like water circling the drain. I feared I was about to pass out.

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