Page 72 of Piece By Piece

My blood still boiling from my argument with Seb, I don’t waste time getting back to the dancefloor and grabbing the first dude I see. He’s tall, looking slightly cocky but attractive enough. Most importantly, he seems happy to dance with me.

So I do, I lose myself in the pounding music, moving along and nearly forgetting all about the guy behind me. That is until he restricts my hips’ movement, pulling my ass against his front and grinding into me. My stomach lurches and I jerk at the sudden ballsiness of this stranger.

I quickly scramble out of his hold before he can even think of repeating the motion, refraining from snapping at him by sheer will. Honestly, what is wrong with certain people? There’s a difference between dancing provocatively and straight-up dry-humping someone. What this guy just tried is a big no-no.

I shoot a tense smile over my shoulder and excuse myself, ready to forget about that little incident and the queasiness that lingers in my gut. I debate straying to the other side of the dancefloor, far away from this jerk, but quickly realize that that’s not what I desire. Not really.

There’s no better buzzkill than having someone cross a line, and call me sensitive, but that’s what this guy just did. I can feel proof of it in the itchy feeling in my bones and the growing guilt as my mind drifts to Sebastian.

I can excuse dancing with others since he’s the one so set on not committing to me. I meant what I said about the two-way street between fidelity and commitment, and if he’s set to never lock in with me, why should I wait around? But just because I’m fed up with Sebastian and our situation doesn’t mean I want another man’s hands on me. Not like that. Not only is it vulgar and rude, but the only man I want getting that close to me is still the host of the party.

I swallow the lump in my throat and decide that it’s time to retire for tonight. At least from the party, that is. Maybe I’ll stray by Seb’s room and check if he’s still up. I doubt I could sleep now anyway, not without apologizing for tonight.

I said some things that I shouldn’t have, and I hate parting on bad terms, even if it’s just for the night.

By the time I reach the top of the stairs, I’m sure I’m doing the right thing by talking to Sebastian. The added bonus of knowing I’m being the bigger person doesn’t hurt either.

I’m just passing my room when I become aware of a shadow next to mine. My head flies up, turning to look over my shoulder just in time to see the guy I danced with before reaching out for me, a sick smile playing on his lips. My heart starts thudding painfully.

I open my mouth to yell at him, maybe scream, but his hand covers my mouth roughly as his other comes around my arm, grasping me tightly and yanking me against his chest. I yelp into his palm, shoving against his chest with my free hand.

He merely smiles, sneering, “Hey, beautiful. Missed you too. Such a tease, making me hard and then coming up here so we can be in private.” He starts shoving me toward my room, ignoring that I am shaking my head frantically.

He pushes me the final step inside, following closely behind before he turns to lock the door. When his eyes meet mine again, he looks like a predator, and an unpleasant shiver runs down my spine.

“Get out of my room!” I demand, glad when my voice doesn’t betray any fear.

“I will, don’t worry. Once you finished what you started,” he taunts, leering at me.

“You’re sick. I don’t want you here, get out and look for someone willing!” I snap, crossing my arms to shield myself.

“No. I don’t think I will. Not when you’re right here, so easy and ready for the taking.” His eyes trail over my skimpy dress and for the first time I can remember, the warning about not dressing provocatively ring true.

I can already hear the accusations.She wasn’t wearing underwear. She was asking for it.A cold shiver rushes down my spine, tears springing to my eyes. I danced with him, now he’s in my room with no one around to hear my protests over the blearing music. He’ll do whatever he wants to me, and no one will believe I didn’t want it.

My panic rises as he strides toward me now, pressing me up against the wall and shoving his lips against mine rights as I try to scream. His tongue brushes against the roof of my mouth and I gag and whine, biting down hard just as he retreats. I barely manage to do any damage, and I curse myself for my slow reaction. His tongue is gone, all that is left is the repulsive taste of his last drink.

When his rough hands find the bare skin of my hips, trying to slip beneath the fabric of my dress through the slits, my instincts take over and I lash out, shoving him away with enough force to make him stumble.

I don’t hesitate as I rush past him, trying to get to the locked door and cursing my damn heels for slowing me down. Just a step away from freedom, a hand wraps around my ponytail and yanks me back. I go down hard, the stark change of direction making me fly back.

I cry out, my scalp burning and my tailbone screaming as I land on my ass. Tears blur my vision, but I can still make out the figure of the guy standing before me, palming his dick through his pants now. Like this is turning him on. Like seeing me on the floor before him, crying in fear, is making him hard. I gag again, nausea rushing through my body as I realize just what kind of sick man followed me to my room.

He never misunderstood my intentions when I walked away. He didn’t think for a second I was inviting him upstairs to let him touch me more. HeknowsI don’t want this.

When he gets on his hunches to come closer, I kick my legs out to bury my pointy heels into his thighs. I’ll be damned if I let him touch me again. Despite my racing heart and frantic mind, I refuse to go down without a fight.

“Get out!” I repeat as he falls back, clutching his thigh.

“Bitch,” he spits as he gets back to his feet. At the sheer rage in his eyes, I grow warier, fear gripping me by the throat. Strength-wise, I don’t stand a chance.

But an angel must be by my side because he takes a step away from me. “Fuck it. You’re not worth the trouble,” he concludes, turning and getting out of my room without another look my way.

I slump on the floor, the gravity of what could have just happened hitting me. My heart is still racing, the tears still streaming down my face, and the aches he dealt me registering fully.

I know I’m a hair’s breadth away from falling apart. Looking around my dark, empty room, I know this is the last place I want to do so. Again. So I force myself to get to my feet, repeating that I just have to walk a few steps to reach Seb’s room.

No matter how angry he is right now, I know he’ll make it better. He’ll make me feel better.

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