The blow job in the car was stupid, stupid, stupid. He got his release, and now he has zero incentive to stick around. Clearly, I’m not worth getting in between whatever this is.
My neck tenses to the point of pain as I march over and whisper harshly in his ear. “I gave you the best head you’ve ever had. You just lost your chance to find out what else I can do.”
“You what?” Trace’s low, deadly growl pounds a warning in my ears.
I have two seconds to lean back before his fist disperses the air and slams into Jason’s face.
“What the—” Jason falls against the bumper of his car, holding his jaw. “Goddammit!”
I gasp, teetering in my heels. The way Trace struck, so swiftly, with such terrifying composure, it’s like he didn’t move at all. It was just a snap of his arm, out and back, without a grunt or hitch in his breath.
“Why did you do that?” I glare at him with awe and horror.
“He’s still here.” Trace shifts his icy eyes to me. “You sucked his dick?”
“Did Marlo suck your dick?”
“No.”
“You poor thing. Is that why you’re here? Hoping I’ll fall on my knees and let you fuck my face because I’m too naive to clue in on how fucking sick you are?”
Jason’s car door slams shut, and the engine turns over. I don’t blame him for getting the hell out of Crazytown, but the tears well up anyway, searing my sinuses with rejection and humiliation.
As he throws it in reverse, I check my wristlet to make sure I didn’t leave anything in his car. Then he drives away without so much as a glance in my direction.
“Well done, Trace.” I dig out my house key with trembling fingers. “I commend you on your ability to chase another man from my home. That wasn’t predictable at all.” Turning away, I head toward the back door with my middle finger in the air. “Consider this my two-weeks notice.”
I don’t hear footsteps behind me as I unlock the deadbolt, and for a stupid moment, I think he’s still standing where I left him.
Until my scalp tingles. I hurriedly shove the door open. Too late.
A hand covers my mouth, an arm hooks around my waist, and my feet lose purchase with the ground. The wristlet falls to the floor as I kick and swing my elbows, pulse spiking, chest heaving, my screams frantic and muffled.
He hauls me deeper into the dance studio, kicks the door shut, and releases me.
“Why did you—?” He swipes a hand over his mouth, eyes forged with steel. “Why did you put your mouth on him?”
I stagger forward, righting my balance in the heels as fury powers through me.
Arms out and teeth bared, I shove at his chest and keep shoving. “Get out of my house!”
He slips around me and paces to the other side of the dance room.
“Answer the question.” His tone is so still and icy it lifts the hairs on my nape.
“Fuck you!” I yank off a stiletto and chuck at him.
He catches it easily and flings it aside. Then he shrugs out of his suit jacket, tosses it, too, and prowls toward me.
I back up, because holy fuck, he’s angry. The flush in his face, the crazed look in that glare, the hard line of his lips—he’s unraveling, losing his precious control, and I’m backed into a fucking corner.
My breaths quicken, and my muscles go rigid. I don’t think he’ll physically hurt me, but I didn’t think he’d fuck another woman, either. My judgment is total shit.
Pressing my back against a mirror, I remove the other stiletto and hold it like a weapon. “Don’t come any closer.”
His gait doesn’t slow, and in two strides, he’s on me, his hand like a vise around my wrist and his chest hard against mine. “Tell me why you were with that motherfucker.”
Tears are already coursing down my face. I can’t break his hold, can’t escape the strength of his body bearing down on me. All I have is my voice and the devastation attached to it.
“I haven’t had sex in three years.” The bitter words scrape from my throat, seething with self-loathing. “I was finally ready, and you…you…”
He didn’t cheat on me, because we weren’t together. But it feels so much like betrayal my shoulders curl in and my chest collapses beneath a thousand doubts. I should’ve told him how I felt about him, that he made me want to try harder, be stronger, smile more. I should’ve told him I loved him.
My face contorts with unbearable pain, and the shoe falls from my shaking hand. “You stuck your dick in her, and I picked up a guy at a bar. Because that’s what broken people do.”
His nostrils go wide. “If all you want is sex…”
He pulls the knot loose on his tie and yanks it off. Then his hand goes to his belt, tearing at the buckle.
“No!” I shove at his chest, digging my shoulder blades against the mirror behind me. “No, no, no, you’re not—”
He grips my throat and squeezes. “Don’t say that word again, unless you mean it.”
I clutch the shackle of his hand and stare up at him with watery eyes. He’s not cutting my airway. Not really hurting me, either. But I can’t move, and my lips won’t form the word I’m mentally chanting. NoNoNoNoNo…
His belt slides free, and the sound of it dropping against the floor shoots a ripple of warmth through my core. My skin heats. My nipples harden, and my pulse goes wild.
He’s going to fuck me, and I can’t let him. Only an hour ago, he was inside another woman. He doesn’t want me, doesn’t respect me, doesn’t give a shit about me. This is just a power trip to feed his childish, self-serving ego.
I raise my chin and force my gaze to the raging depths of his. When his mouth parts, I drive a knee into his groin. He grunts, and the hand on my throat loosens just enough for me to twist away. But I only make it two steps.
He slams against my back, and we stumble, our hands flying out to brace our collision against the wall. But we’re still moving, his weight pushing down on me, deliberately sending us to the floor.
I land face down with his body on top of me and his arm around my waist, buffering the fall. I try to pull my knees beneath me to scramble away, but he holds tight to my hips, his free hand clutched around the back of my thigh. Then he yanks up the hem of my mini dress.
Cool air brushes against my bare bottom right before his palm slams down, igniting my skin with fire.
“Fucking…God, fuck!” My arms and legs give out beneath the shocking pain, and my wail echoes through the room. “Why—?”
He spanks me again and again, and the sound of his hand slapping flesh punctuates the ungodly burn. The arm beneath my hips suspends me over his lap, giving him leverage to pommel my ass relentlessly.
I struggle and scream, but after a few seconds, it starts to feel forced, like I’m making myself fight it, deny it, hate it. Only I don’t hate it. With every strike, the pain dissolves into languorous curls of heat. It seeps through my pleasure centers, soothing, stroking, and coaxing my inner muscles into a spasm of need.
In a swift shift of his weight, he rolls on top me, his chest smothering my back and his hand beneath my hips, between my legs, sinking into my soaked pussy.
A gasp fills my lungs, the stretch of his fingers excruciatingly perfect. I don’t want this. I don’t. I can’t…