Page 116 of The Honest Affair

“There’s those legs I remember,” he leered when my dress pooled around my hips. “A little long for my taste, if you want to know the truth, but everyone else always said you were a catch. Who was I to argue, huh?”

His erection pressed between my legs as he fumbled with his zipper. Every one of his stinking smells embraced me in a sickening hug. Alcohol, sweat, cheap men’s deodorant. Some kind of decay that only belonged to him.

“Do you like that, princess?” he asked. “I think you secretly want it just like you always did. Should I do it here? How about in the elevator again, huh?”

The effect was like tinder. Suddenly, the small fire that had been burning inside me all night—no, for the last eighteen months, really—burst into a massive pyre.

“NO!” I shrieked. “YOU WILL NOT DO THIS TO ME ANYMORE!”

I kicked and punched and beat with all my might, wishing I had done more than Pilates and spinning classes that would help me throw off this monster.

And suddenly, he was gone. It took me a second to realize it, but when I finally opened my eyes again, I sat up to find Calvin pinned squarely against the opposite wall, eyes bulging as he looked at his captor. My savior.

Matthew.

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