Page 7 of Tactical Lies

She loved it when Connor crawled into bed after her and woke her with gentle touches to make love to her.

The hand on her cheek drifted down to grasp her breast, and she sighed again, thrusting her chest forward seeking more of Connor’s sensual touches. After being together since they were young teenagers, he knew her body, knew how to make it come alive, how to make it burn so brightly she was sure she was going to explode into a fiery mass of brightly colored fireworks.

After kneading her breast for a moment, Connor suddenly grabbed her nipple and yanked.

Hard.

A startled squawk fell from her lips.

He knew she didn't like it rough.

She wasn't the most adventurous when it came to their sex life, they tried different positions and a few toys, but she never liked to be hurt during sex.

Another hard pinch on her nipple had her jerking awake and Becca realized she wasn't at home in her bed, and it wasn't Connor who had crawled under the covers to wake her for some beautiful love making.

She was in her car, and it was a guy from one of her classes who had his hand on her breast.

Now she remembered. She’d been at a late-night study group, she was supposed to head back to the apartment she shared with Connor after, but she’d been so tired from juggling a heavy course load and her job that she’d been afraid she might fall asleep at the wheel. A quick power nap had been her plan, but she must have fallen into a deeper sleep than she realized.

“Don’t touch me,” she growled, swatting at Dylan Sanders’ hand as it continued to squeeze her nipple painfully tightly. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t want this, Becca,” Dylan snarled, grabbing a fistful of the breast he was already hurting and yanking her half out of her seat.

Fear uncurled throughout her as reality settled in.

It was late.

She was alone.

In her car with a man who was making his intentions clear.

Her mouth opened to scream, but an unexpected blow to the side of her head startled her into silence as pain exploded behind her eyes.

“Make a sound and I’ll kill you,” Dylan told her as he shoved at the hem of her skirt trying to yank it up over her hips.

The bulge in his pants was already obvious and she knew what was going to happen.

She just didn't know how to stop it.

“P-please,” she begged, hating her voice’s weak and terrified sound. “I-I don’t want this.”

“Course you do,” Dylan said as he managed to pull at her dress enough to expose the lacy white panties she was wearing. “I see how you look at me.”

She didn't look at him in any way.

They had some classes together and they’d spoken maybe a handful of times, but she was in a relationship, she was with a man she loved.

“I-I d-don’t,” she stammered. “N-no. S-stop.”

“Did you tell me no?” Dylan snapped, grabbing hold of her panties and physically ripping them off her body, making her skin sting. “Nobody tells me no.”

Outweighing her by a solid hundred pounds, Dylan dragged her over so she awkwardly straddled his legs, then unzipped his jeans and pulled free his already erect length.

When she struggled, desperate to stop this from happening, Dylan clamped a hand around her neck.

It felt like her body was being torn in two when he shoved himself inside her. She was so dry, it was nothing like when she made love to Connor. This was just pain. It wasn't just her body that hurt but her heart and soul as well.

He was stealing from her.

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