Page 138 of Torrid Love
I can’t breathe.
My chest rapidly rises and falls as I became more and more aware of my predicament.
Holy Jesus.
“You didn’t expect to see me, did you?” a sneer curls the corner of his mouth.
“Wh—what are you doing here?”
“Sweet little Dominika,” he says in a low, mocking voice. “Did you miss me half as much as I missed you?” he smirks, taking another step forward. I instinctively take one back. “Your boyfriend told me you had a little studio right next to his, so I thought I’d stop by for a visit. Nice digs, by the way. Sorry about the window. I just had to see you.”
Jerk.
I don’t clue in at first, but when I blink again, I notice.
Gideon’s beer gut has been replaced by a flat stomach. His t-shirt stretches across his broad muscular shoulders revealing a buff-looking physique.
His hair is now sprinkled with even more silver strands.
His eyes are still black as tar and as dark as Satan’s.
He notices me staring and smirks.
Asshole.
It’s only when I snap out of my trance that I realize how bad things are looking for me. Gideon’s intimidating size blocks my path to safety.
Breathe.
“You’re looking good, Dominika,” his gaze rakes down the length of my body, making me feel dirty. “Really good.” His eyes are fixated on my breasts, rising and falling.
“Get out!” I shout.
“Not a chance. You and I need to catch up,” he smirks again. “I’m glad to see you’re back to being a blonde. I hated it when you dyed your hair black. Luckily I held onto a lock of your hair for safekeeping after we made love.”Scavenger.“I jerked off so many times smelling your perfume. You know how much blondes make me hard?”
For a long time, I thought my hair color had provoked Gideon’s savage assault. Men have fetishes. Maybe that was his. I died my blonde hair jet-black soon after that tragic night because I never wanted another man to hurt me ever again. I was grasping at straws to explain why a man I trusted would violate me.
“We never made love! You raped me!”
He takes several steps forward.
Vomit rises up from my gut.
How do I get out of here?
“So you’re the bitch trying to bring me down?”Huh?“Did you go to that reporter to start spreading nasty rumors about me because you don’t remember what happened between us that night?” the muscles in his jaw clench and he narrows his eyes.
“Wh—what?” I stammer, confused.
“I never raped you, Dominika.” His demonic eyes fill with irritation and… hatred? “This stupid reporter keeps telling me an idiot bubblehead claims she has proof I hurt her. Is that you?”
“What reporter? What are you talking about?”
“You were begging for my dick.” Each word slices through my soul. “Not to mention the slutty outfit you were wearing that night sent a clear message—you looked like a virgin desperate to be treated like a whore.”
“You’re a filthy pig! There was nothing wrong with my clothing. I was wearing a jeans skirt and a t-shirt from Rod’s band,” I spit out.
I really don’t know why I thought he deserved an answer.
