Page 12 of Quiet Rage
My clients? When I understand what he’s getting at, my face goes red along with the rest of me. “That is disgusting. I don’t do things like that.” And why am I defending myself to him? Of allpeople. I don’t know why it matters. It just does. He just happens to be the only person in front of me right now.
“You sure?” Snickering, he looks around again while his brows lift. “Because that’s not what I’m seeing. Did you really take on five guys at once? Is that how you can afford to go here?”
Goddamn him! The fact that he won’t even listen makes it harder to swallow back the burning, bitter rage lodged in my throat. There is nothing worse than the feeling of being deliberately misunderstood. Judged, ridiculed.
At least, I can’t imagine there being anything worse until he starts moving toward me. There is nothing behind his dark eyes but an even deeper darkness. Something like rage burns there. Rage toward me? What the hell did I ever do to him? Sit in his seat? That is not enough to push him to do this. Is it?
I need to know. My tongue moistens my lips—I can’t help but notice the way he watches intently. “Why are you doing this?” The question is a weak, almost inaudible whisper. I wish I sounded stronger. I wish I was bigger, so I could face him without feeling so overwhelmed.
“Doing what, Dragonfly?” He really seems to get off on bringing up my tattoo. What is this guy’s problem?
At the moment, it’s not his problem I’m most worried about. It’s the problem of him closing in on me. “Would you stop this?” I whisper once I’m able to pull a short, sharp breath through my tight throat. “Just let me go. If this was all a big joke, let me go. You’ve had your fun.”
That was the wrong thing to say. I know it almost as soon as it’s out of my mouth, when his eyes instantly light up. Like a kid who just got handed a present they didn’t know they wanted until itwas in front of them. “No, I don’t think I’ve had all my fun. Not yet. But I will.”
Not this, too. Haven’t I been through enough? “Leave me alone.” There’s no way around him. When I try to slip past, all he has to do is make the slightest move to counter it. That’s how big he is. That’s how much space he takes up.
“Only if you do something for me first.” His hand shoots out so he can touch my hair, the gesture turning my stomach.
“Don’t do that,” I whisper, turning my head away while he laughs.
“Oh, you’re shy now? You weren’t so shy in these pictures.” When I try to sidestep again, he grabs me by my hip while the other hand lands on my waist. His touch is a brand, burning its way through my clothes, through my skin. Down into my very core.
“Get off me!” Is there nobody else in this entire building? Not a single student, not even a janitor? Or do they all have selective hearing, just like they have selective empathy? My mind is spinning, and my heart’s racing like that of an animal in a trap because, really, I am an animal in a trap. Completely cornered, no way out.
That’s only confirmed when my back hits the corner of a bookcase, and I almost choke on my terror. He completely fills the space in front of me, giving me no hope of getting past him. I’ve never felt so small and defenseless in my whole life.
I can’t breathe. My chest is too tight. I keep trying to take tiny sips of air, but it’s no use—my vision is starting to dim. The world is starting to go gray around the edges.
Get it together! Now!Maybe it’s Jason’s voice in my head, like an echo from the past. Or maybe it’s my own self-preservation, finally waking the hell up. Either way, it reminds me to take the deepest breath I can. I need to stop panicking. Panicking is the worst thing I can do. I might as well tell this pervert to do whatever he wants to me, since pretty soon, I’ll faint.
I can’t do that. I won’t.
“You want to leave?” His gaze lands heavy on my chest—God help me, he’s breathing faster the longer he stares at my boobs. I mean, I’m only wearing a plain T-shirt and a regular old bra, but he’s looking at me like he can see through my clothes. I can’t believe how disgusting and dirty he makes me feel. “There’s a price. You have to jerk me off.”
Even though I knew that’s where his thoughts were going, a laugh bursts out of me before I can help it. “Oh, is that all?” I snicker.
My laughter dies when he eliminates the space between us, his body pressing against mine, forcing me tighter into the corner. Any closer and I won’t be able to breathe. I can barely expand my chest as it is. “Unless you would rather have me throw you down on one of the tables and fuck you raw. Your choice, Dragonfly,” he adds with something sinister in his voice, mocking me, taking the memories of my brother and turning them into something ugly and dirty. I think I hate him for that most of all.
I keep expecting him to laugh, to show me he doesn’t mean it. That time never comes. His hot breath somehow chills my skin as it fans across my face. I close my eyes, forcing myself to push down the ugly, sickening images filling my mind.
“Just give me an excuse to split you in half with this cock,” he murmurs. “I dare you.”
I can’t let that happen. And there is nobody here besides the two of us. Nobody to stop him.
“Fine,” I whisper, my skin crawling while I pretend not to care. “Whatever.”
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.” He chuckles while one hand drifts down to the waistband of his shorts. “I’m going to need a little bit of enthusiasm. Believe me, that will help things go much faster for you.”
“Fuck you,” I snap before I can help it.
“We can make that happen.” Instead, still chuckling, he lowers his zipper. I can’t even bring myself to watch. I have to close my eyes, turn my head away. Why? I still don’t understand why any of this is happening.
“It’s not going to jerk itself, Dragonfly.” When I don’t react fast enough for him, he takes my hand and wraps my fingers around his hot, stiff dick.
I want to die. Right here right now. With this monster’s dick in my hand, with the sound of his quick, excited breathing hanging in the air. “Go ahead,” he whispers. “Get to work.”
I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do. I can barely fit my fingers around him, for one thing. When I dare look down, it’s almost absurd. He is so very big, so thick, that I can only imagine he really would split me open if he tried to put this in me. I’m glad this is as much as he wants, and I hate myself for being glad. Already, he has broken me down.
