“Yeah, thanks. Sorry to be such a downer.” Her words drip with disappointment and sarcasm. What the hell? She’s blowing me off? Nope, not gonna fucking happen. I look like a bad influence, because I am a bad influence. It's real cute that she thinks I'll just go ahead and leave her to do her work after that smartass answer. I'm not that kind of guy though.
“I don’t like the way you talk about yourself,” I say with a hard edge to my voice, because I really don’t fucking like it. Being honest and open like that takes courage, at the very least. She shouldn’t be putting herself down. I also don’t like her attitude, not one fucking bit. She’s pushing me.
She squares her shoulders and looks me straight in the eyes. She speaks calmly, but her voice is strong. “I can do what I’d like.” Her defiance makes my dick hard, and I ache to turn her over right here in front of everyone and show her what a good punishing fuck she needs right now. Then she adds, “And right now I’d like to study.” With my blood boiling and my agitation growing, she grinds her teeth and turns her shoulder to me, effectively dismissing me.
“You could really use a release, sweetheart.” I can’t stop myself from saying it. I shouldn’t. I should let her finish her work, and I sure as shit shouldn’t get involved with her problems. But her being so short and snippy with me has me wanting to spank her ass and pound that tight pussy. She’s wound up so damn tight. “A quick fuck will do you good.” I tap my fingers against the glass holding her drink. “Much better than this.”
I watch her squirm in her seat under my gaze. I know I’m turning her on. She wants me just as much as I want her.
She bites her lip and swallows loudly before she says, “At least you’re being up front about it now. I knew you just wanted to fuck me.” Her voice cracks at the end and betrays her confidence. I fucking love it. She's so damn innocent. I bet she’s only done missionary before with some uptight, nerdy boyfriend. She’s never been fucked like a woman deserves to be fucked. She tries to play off her desire by moving her book closer to the edge of the table and pretending to ignore me. That shit’s not happening. I’m hard and we both need this. I shut her book and wait for her to look at me. She blurts out, “Why are you being such an asshole?” I have to stifle my grin.
“Because you keep denying yourself. Do us both a favor and stop trying to push me away.” I don’t understand her anger, but at least anger is something I can work with. You need passion to be angry. So I’m gonna fucking run with it. “You’ll forgive me when I’m deep inside that tight pussy of yours. You need this, sweetheart, knock it the fuck off and let me take care of you.”
Her breathing picks up. “I need this?” She huffs a humorless laugh. “What I need is for you to stop harassing me.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve never seen anyone who needs a real good fuck as much as you do. Tell me you don’t want me. If you can look me in the eyes and tell me to leave, I will. Cross my fucking heart.” I lean forward, daring her to tell me off. I know she wants me, just like I know she needs this. I just hope she doesn’t disappoint me. As she stares into my eyes searching for something, an uncomfortable feeling settles in my chest. She had better not deny me.
“Who do you think you are?” She’s still playing at being offended, but I can tell she wants this. “I’m not some whore.” My jaw clenches at her words. I don’t like that. First a downer and then a whore. She really doesn’t speak highly of herself.
“I never said that, sweetheart. I never even once had that thought. So, are you telling me to leave, or are you ready to get out of here?” Her eyes look back to her computer, breaking my gaze.
She answers with her eyes still on the screen. “I don’t have my car with me.” Her breathy words give me deep satisfaction. I’ve got my sweetheart right where I want her.
“You don’t need one. We can go to the back.” She gapes at me in surprise, but then her eyes widen in anger. “Relax sweetheart, this is my family’s place. No one’s gonna fuck with us here.” Her cheeks flush pink and she turns away from me. Shit, she’s embarrassed. She probably thinks I do this all the time. And I don’t. I’ve never fucked anyone here. But I need to get inside her as soon as fucking possible. She’s so damn indecisive I can’t give her the chance to change her mind.
“No one’s gonna know,” I tell her, as I see her internally debating over what she should do. She should let me help her get this edge off. That’s what she should do.
“Okay.” The desperate word leaves her mouth with a primal need. She stands up and starts putting her things away, but I put my hand over hers to stop her.
“I got it, sweetheart.” I put her shit in her tote as quick as I can and grip the straps in one hand. With my other hand, I take her hand in mine and pull her closer to me as I walk her to the back. I don’t look around as we walk, and I’m glad she isn’t looking around either. The guys may see, but they won’t know for sure what I’m up to. Even if they do, they'd better not say a damn word to her. I won’t let her regret this.
Elle
I hear a loud bang, then someone yells. The sounds are faint, and distant. What the fuck happened? I try to move my arms, but someone’s holding me down. A small moan escapes from my lips. I'm so sleepy. Why am I so drowsy? I feel groggy as I turn my head slowly from side to side, and then I remember. I remember his mouth on my body. The heat between my legs makes my body want to turn and my thighs clench, but I’m pinned down. A strangled groan leaves me as I try to move my wrists, but I can’t.
“She’s fine.” A distant, masculine voice that I don't recognize has my forehead creasing with confusion.
“If you lay another fucking hand on her, I’ll--” He sounds so angry. Why is he so angry? I struggle to remember. Vince. His handsome face and cocky smile flash before my eyes. “I’m Vince.” I hear his words in my head. It feels like a faint memory.
“Calm down. It had to happen, Vince. This is the better alternative. For now, this should work.” I hear a third voice as I start to feel slightly more alert, but I keep my eyes closed.
“I didn’t fucking touch her. It’s a roofie, for Christ's sake. It was either this, or off the broad.” Roofie. That word triggers something within me, and makes me move involuntarily.
I try to jackknife off the desk, but someone’s still holding me down. I open my eyes and focus on the man holding me down. I recognize his face. Vince. I struggle against him. His large frame towers over me as his dark eyes search my face. Betrayal hits me hard, and tears prick my eyes. He drugged me. Did he…? I can’t even finish the thought. I struggle to breathe as a sob rips through me.
How did I get here? I’m in an office and it seems vaguely familiar. I shake my head and try to shake the sleep away. How long have I been here? I remember his face, I remember his name, I remember this room. I remember it all, but only in brief flashes. I shake my head again.
“Vince?” I ask in a wary voice. Please let me know him at least. I need to remember something.