Page 17 of Vicious Games

I backed up a step. This was bad, really bad.

I held my purse over my cleavage as I once again tugged on my stupid hem. “I’m sorry. I’m with someone.”

He looked me up and down. “You’re with that bastard, Roman. Listen, whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Now let me pass before I knee you in the balls,” I snarled.

He smirked. “Oh, the rough stuff. I’ll pay extra for that too. I could just tell you were the type of dirty slut who’d like it rough.” He slapped his upper thigh. “How about you come over here and let Daddy give you a spanking?”

I recoiled. The fact that he had come dangerously close to the truth of Roman’s and my relationship did not help my revulsion. If anything, it proved that apparently, I was only into that stuff with Roman. This man was probably about the same age and relatively handsome if you liked overly tanned blonds, and yet I felt nothing but queasiness at the thought of doing with him half of the dirty things I’d done with Roman.

I lifted onto my toes and tried to glance over his shoulder. “You need to get out of my fucking way. If Roman finds you talking to me, there will be hell to pay.”

The man pretended to shiver. “Oh, is that big bad corporate raider going to get me? Fuck Roman Winterbourne. The man is an upstart bastard. Do you know who I am?”

I shook my head. “I don’t care who you are. Get out of my way, asshole!”

I was doing my best to keep my voice down. I didn’t want to cause a scene, but if this jerk didn’t let me pass soon, I would have no choice.

The man lunged. He pressed me up against the wall while he shoved his knee between my legs. His hand groped the front of my dress, palming my breast. He squeezed it so hard I winced as tears came to my eyes.

His sour breath was hot against my cheek. “I’m so good, baby. You’ll be the one paying me after we’re done.”

I swiveled my head to the side to avoid his moist lips. “Get off me!”

I squirmed in his embrace. With his knee between mine, I couldn’t knee him in the groin. My only defense would be to try to scratch at his face and eyes. I lifted my arm and swiped at his right cheek.

The man reeled back. He touched his cheek and then looked down at the smeared blood from the scratches I had made. “You fucking bitch.”

He raised his arm to hit me. I flinched, bracing for the strike.

The blow never fell.

Roman was standing behind him, his hand wrapped around the man’s wrist. “What the fuck is going on here?”

The man reeled back. “It’s not my fault. Your whore came on to me, bro.”

Roman yanked the man’s arm back so hard there was a sickening, popping noise.

The man cried out in pain, his arm hanging limply at his side. “You broke my arm!”

Roman shoved him aside, positioning his body between me and the asshole. He smoothed my hair away from my face and gently placed his hand under my chin to lift my head. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“No. No, I’m fine. He just startled me. I don’t think he was really going to hit me. He only wanted to frighten me.”

Roman’s face hardened as his eyes narrowed. “Frightening you is enough.”

Roman turned back to the man. The moment he did, the man swung his good arm in Roman’s direction. Roman easily deflected the blow by grabbing the man’s wrist and jerking him forward. He then punched him under his arm, right in the kidneys. The man howled in pain as he fell to his knees. Roman snatched the man by the tie. He pulled up, strangling him. The man’s eyes widened as he attempted to push Roman off with his one good arm. “How dare you touch what’s mine?”

“I’m sorry!” The man coughed as his face turned purple. “I thought she was a…”

Before the man could finish, Roman knocked him out. The man fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes. His legs and arms were splayed wide; all that was missing was the chalk outline.

Still leaning against the wall, I covered my racing heart with my palm. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to get him off me.”

When Roman turned back to me, I was shocked to see his anger now directed at me.

He shrugged out of his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. “Maybe if you didn’t dress like a fucking whore, you wouldn’t be treated like one.”

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