Page 99 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

We’re alone.Is that a statement or a threat?

It works in both ways. Because he’s right: there’s no one to save me. No one to hear me scream. I have to play this right or it could get dangerous.

“ButIwould know,” I growl ferally. “I know myself, Roger. I wouldn’t be able to work for you anymore if our relationship progressed beyond coworkers. Beyond boss and employee. I would have to quit. But I already told you I need this job. So… I can’t.”

He deserves a half-eaten hamburger to the face and a milkshake down his pants, but I offer him my kind explanation anyway. For a few stunned seconds, Roger weighs it.

Then his face twists into a hideous scowl.

“You fucking tease.”

I try to pull away from him, but he grips my wrist even tighter. “Roger,” I say, “I’m sorry, but—”

“‘I’m sorry but I’m just going to throw myself at you and then yank it away at the last minute,’” he says in a nasty imitation of my voice. “‘I’m going to throw my arms around your neck and press my tits against your chest, but when you try to make good on it, I’m going to back away and play prude.’”

“I’m not a prude!” I snap. “And I gave you a hug. Not a lap dance.”

“In a skirt like that, there’s hardly a difference,” he scoffs.

The look in his eyes is hungry like a feral predator on the prowl. I have the feeling that he’s looking me over, deciding where he’d like to bite first.

“Look, let’s call it a day, okay? It’s late. We can come back tomorrow and start fresh.”

I try again to pull away, but Roger shakes his head. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I think we should hash this out now.”

“We both need some time and space.”

“I don’t need either one,” he says huskily. “I’m ready.”

I frown, trying to understand what he means. Then I look down.

The front of his pants are tented, and Roger is grinning.

“Plus, there will be too many people here in the morning,” he says. “It can’t be a dirty little secret if everyone knows. And where’s the fun in that?”

“Roger, no,” I plead, hating the weakness in my voice. “You don’t want to do this.”

Roger spins me towards the table and slams my back against the edge of it. I cry out, a shooting pain lancing up my spine, but he ignores me.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the moment you trotted your tight little ass into my office,” he rasps, forcing my thighs apart with his knee. “You tease and you flirt, but you young bitches don’t know what you want. Men like me have to show you.”

I try to claw at him, but Roger pins my arms to the table. “Just lie still, Belle. I’ll take care of you.”

He wedges himself between my thighs so I can’t reach to kick him, and he holds both of my arms in one hand. I’m spread in front of him, served up like a pig on a fucking platter, and there’s nothing I can do.

“Please,” I cry, hot tears burning my eyes and rolling down my cheeks. “Please don’t do this. Please.”

Roger’s eyes are completely black now. He licks his lips. “You’re probably already wet. You want it. I know you do.”

He’s delusional. Actually insane.

His fingers find the buttons of my blouse. He undoes one, which makes me shiver. He notices and smirks. “You can’t help yourself, you little slut. You like when I touch you.”

I’m suddenly at a loss for words. I want to scream, but no sound is coming out. Another button pops free.

“You don’t have to lie with me,” he coos. “I know the truth. I know what you want. Let me give it to you.”

Another button.

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