Page 20 of Perfidious Passion

FEB. 14TH - FRIDAY

The pressure of the seat behind my head does little to ground me. Normally I don't get carsick, so maybe it's just the limo. It's a bummer really, my first time in a limo is reduced to nausea and wooziness,

I try to see out the windows, only for the flashing lights of the city to make my head pound. There are too many nice places in Minneapolis for me to guess where we're going tonight, but I guess that's the point.

A surprise. And just like usual, I'm ruining it. I was so happy twenty minutes ago, but something about the twists and turns of downtown and that second glass of champagne is not sitting right with my stomach or my head.

Grumbling, I drop my head into my hands but immediately lean back and swallow to keep the bile from rising any more than it already has. Even deep breaths don't help. My bare toes are starting to tingle, and I swear my hands feel about a thousand pounds. I just want to lie down, but the car begins to slow.

Looking around, I try to find my phone I had set aside when my head started throbbing a while ago. It's nestled between the couch cushions. I reach for it just as the limo stops. With myhand outstretched and fighting gravity, I look out to see… a garage?

"What—"

The door I dove into without thought and a whole heap of excitement earlier is wrenched open. Brett's silhouette doesn't block enough of the piercing white light behind him. A gasp tears from me as I try to lift my arms to cover my eyes.It's too fucking bright.

"Come here, little tease." Brett sounds far away, but I couldn't have been more wrong. His hands grab my jacket-covered arms and haul me out. I have no choice but to collapse into his chest and lean against him.

"B-Brett?" I stutter, my teeth chattering.

"Don't worry," he coos, tilting my head back with his finger under my chin. "I'll warm you up in just a couple of minutes."

"No," I moan, vomit threatening both of our outfits. "No. I d-don't feel good."

He hums, and maneuvers me until I'm stumbling alongside him. Alone in the elevator, his grip shifts from my hip to my throat. "Don't be difficult. I gave you what you wanted. Your inhibitions are lowered, and you'll be too weak for your guilt to fight what we want."

What? This man is fucking crazy.

At the mention of the wordfight, something clicks into place in my foggy brain.Fight. I shake my head and try to buck him off of me. "Brett, stop.P-please."

Tsking at me with a smile, he grinds against me. Pushing him away with my hips won't work, so I arch my back to keep his nasty cock away from my center. My tits pressing against his chest is better than my crotch against his. He grunts and shoves me against the wall, so I have no choice but to feel the erection in his dress pants.

Oh God. Please, no.

"Shush," he reprimands, annoyedandturned on by my whimpers. The elevator continues to rise, making me feel sicker. "Now. Nobody should be here at eight on Valentine's Day evening, but if we come across someone, you're going to stay quiet."

Rage rushes through me. "I won't!"

"Ah ah..." he whispers, licking my throat. "You will, ‘cause if you don't," the elevator dings, "everyone will know what a little whore Aaron'spartnerreally is. Insatiable, really. How humiliating would it be for his new office to realize what a fucked up personal life he has?"

His final words are met with the elevator doors opening wide and my heart-shattering in my chest.

"Oh, and, ‘cause I know you like it kinky.” Something cold and hard presses into my rib cage. "If you scream, I'll just shoot."

No. No. He can't have a gun. Please tell me he doesn't—I look down at the opening of my jacket and find the metal barrel of my death pointed at me. "O-okay..."

A smirk tilts his lips when I nod shakily. "Good. Let's go."

Shoving my fluffy hood over my head, he tugs me forward. I sway and stumble, but Brett's there to keep me from falling. I'd rather fucking fall. Cobwebs are rabidly weaving through my brain, making it hard for me to think, let alonefeelanything.

Terror swims in and out of my veins. Whatever he drugged my champagne with is finally setting in just like he wanted.Fight. The word tumbles round and round in my mind, but I can't.

Until I'm shoved into Aaron's office.My Aaron. My love.

Everything blurs together, and a solid crack snaps me out of my drug-induced haze for a moment until hot pain flares in my left cheekbone. I cough and sputter, realizing I'm bent over Aaron's desk with his wallpaper of all four of us smiling back at me.

"No panties, hmm..."

I was only going to bend over for them.

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