Page 44 of To Hate Adam Connor

One of his hands found the edge of my dress and started hiking it up. “I said stop,” I yelled as much as I could with his fingers pressing into my cheeks. The low bass of the music was drowning my voice anyway.

He bit on my neck and his lips found mine.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to turn my face away from his grip.

“I love it when girls like you play hard to get. I’m always up for a challenge.”

Oh, hell no.

I tried to slow down my heartbeat and jerked my knee up; since he’d lifted my dress up, it was easier this time and hit the bull’s eye. He grunted and let go of my face, doubling in front of me, his hands covering his useless jewels. I pushed my hair out of my face and opened and closed my mouth to relieve the ache.

“You son of a bitch, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” I hissed at him. When he straightened up, I noticed he looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him. Had I given him permission to paw me? I couldn’t remember doing something like that, definitely not on such a special night for Olive. That being said, I did remember some harmless, playful flirting with a few guys, but it had all been in fun. After Jameson’s text, I’d just needed that little self-esteem boost. I wasn’t looking to get laid.

I hurriedly pulled my dress down and glared at the guy. His face had reddened, but he was sporting a big grin on his face.

Great…

“Look,” I said slowly. “I’m sorry about your balls.” I huffed a breath and continued. “Actually, I take it back. I’m not. You deserved it. I’m just gonna leave, okay?”

He lifted an eyebrow and kept grinning creepily. I started scooting away and lifted my hands, palms out. “I’m leaving. No harm done.”

He licked his lower lip and stalked toward me. I tried to run past him, but he was too strong for me and slammed me against the door, yet again. This time he kept me in place with his shoulders. With quick hands, he had my dress almost up to my waist when I started screaming in his ear.

It’s frightening how fast you can sober up.

And how fast you can turn homicidal.

The music was really loud, but I was sure somebody would hear me.

I squirmed, kicked, and screamed, but he still managed to push one of his hands up my dress and was squeezing the shit out of my breast. I was going to bruise for sure. However, considering what was happening, a bruise or two was the least of my worries.

“Fight me,” he said. “Make me work for it.”

That’s when I started to panic.

He was crazy.

When my screams got too loud for him, he cupped my mouth with his hand and continued his assault on my body. I still thought he would stop.

I still thought it was a nightmare.

I still screamed against his hand.

When his fingers edged closer to my underwear, I stilled. Completely.

I stopped breathing.

My eyes welled with tears, and I swallowed.

Stupid stupid tears.

Oh, he was definitely going to die as soon as…

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” he whispered as his fingertips traveled over my panties.

The world stopped spinning.

He pulled his hand away from my mouth, and I screamed bloody murder with everything I had left in me.

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