Page 59 of Tequila & Lace
Fuck!
My body was sent into instant panic mode, I was terrified. This was not how the night was supposed to go down. I knew the shit Martinez’s girls were into, but this went beyond my comfort zone. I was expecting to offer companionship for the night, and the possibility of him bringing up negotiations for sex but turning him down.
What the fuck was I going to do now? How in the hell was I going to get myself out of this?
I was finally able to find my footing and stood, facing the couch. I didn’t dare turn to face him. My legs felt like Jell-O and I had to lean up against the plush seat cushion for support.
“Sit,” he ordered.
Like a deer in the headlights of an eighteen wheeler, I couldn’t move. My feet felt as if they were stuck in cement pillars.
“Did you hear what I just said, bitch? Sit!” The boom in his voice when he gave the last command was like a gunshot going off in my head and I did the first thing that I could think of—I ran.
When I got to the door, I twisted the handle and yanked. It budged only a crack before a large hand slammed it shut. The other hand twisted into the back of my hair and jerked me back.
“You stupid slut! Lucky for you, I like it when they fight.” He wrapped his free arm around my middle and started dragging me down a hall to what I assumed was the bedroom.
I kicked. I screamed. I tried to break free. It was no use.
He threw me onto the bed, straddled my hips and grabbed both of my arms and held them above my head. That was the first time I saw what he looked like as I continued to scream, twisting and turning, trying with everything in me to wiggle out from under him. He looked nothing like what I’d thought he would. He had the most piercing blue eyes I’d ever seen, perfect teeth when he would give me his evil smile, and even though we’d fought a little, his hair was still perfect on his head. This man could have been any woman’s boyfriend. Instead, he was committing a crime.
Still holding both of my wrists with one hand, he brought the other down and squeezed my cheeks. “Scream all you want, slut. It’s only gonna fucking turn me on that much more.”
He turned my head to the side and licked me from my collarbone to my earlobe. Bile rose up my throat and the tears started flowing. A sob broke free when he started to pump his hips. Removing his hand from my face, he grabbed the front of my yellow dress and yanked, causing the clasps from around my neck to break and giving him access to my breasts.
“Fuck, yeah. Just like I imagined. Fucking gorgeous.” He pulled my strapless bra down as well.
Gorgeous.
Paul.
What the fuck was I doing?
I was a trained FBI agent. I had a man who loved me, who made love to me. I wasn’t going down like this. Not after how far I’d come. I wouldn’t let history repeat itself. I wasnotmy mother. I was better than that.
I stilled.
“Ah, someone is learning fast. Don’t fucking move or I will treat you like the cunt you are. Understood?” Not being able to speak out of fear that I would lose my resolve, I simply nodded.
He kissed me and I tried with everything in me not to struggle. Then as I’d hoped, he slid off of me and stood at the edge of the bed. Cracking my eyes open, I watched as he started to undo his belt buckle. I quickly surveyed the room, looking to see what I had at my disposal. A bedside lamp sat on the nightstand only a few feet away.
Taking a few deep breaths, I forcefully lifted my right leg, hitting him between the legs and watched as he crumpled to the ground. I knew I only had seconds, so I sprung up from the bed, grabbed the bedside lamp and slammed it against his temple. Holding the split top of my dress closed, I ran.
Was he bleeding?Had I killed him?
I grabbed my clutch, not wanting to leave anything behind for him to find me. Not wanting to take a chance on the elevators, I looked for the exit signs and headed for the stairs.Shit!I was twenty-three floors up and wearing stilettos. Flashbacks of my seventeenth birthday flashed in my head again. Once again I was fleeing down a flight of stairs from a hotel room, running for my life.
Knowing I had only seconds to spare if I didn’t kill him, I ripped off my shoes and started going down taking two, sometimes three stairs at a time. Once I got to the bottom, my heart felt as though it was going to explode, but I couldn’t tell if it was adrenaline or the stairs. I opened the doors and into the smoky, crowded casino, and ran straight into the bathroom. I went to the very last stall, locked the door, leaned my back against it and fell to the ground.
Then it hit me. Wracking sobs came up my throat and I couldn’t breathe. Memories from seventeen years ago filled my head.Life repeating itself.Feeling the bile rise at the thought, I struggled to my feet and emptied my stomach contents.
I wanted Paul.
I needed Paul.
I needed him to hold me. I needed to feel the protection that has always been the constant in his arms.
After a few minutes, I put my shoes on and exited the stall. Women looked at me, but no one said a word. What was wrong with society these days? Getting a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I looked like a whore who had just got slapped around by her pimp… I kinda was. Maybe the women thought I was only fighting with my boyfriend and it wasn’t their place to help me. If they only knew what I’d just endured.
