Three Broken Promises (One Week Girlfriend #3)(74)

He holds me tighter, his arms like bands around me, my face smothered against his chest. At first it’s comforting and I relax in his hold. But his arms squeeze me even tighter and I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe.

“Colin.” I try and push at his chest, but my arms are trapped in between our bodies. “Stop. Please. Let me go.”

“Just let me hold you,” he whispers, his voice sharp. Foreign. “That’s all I want. Just to hold you.”

I’m struggling now, trying to duck under and out of his arms, but it’s no use. I can’t break free. Panic fills me, threatens to bubble out of my throat, and I part my lips, ready to scream. He slaps his hand over my mouth, silencing me. He doesn’t smell like Colin. The scent of sweat and fear hits my nostrils and I grimace beneath his soft, damp palm.

“Shut up,” he hisses, his voice reminding me of the guy who stole my purse. My panic grows and I’m thrashing about in his restrictive arms, anything to get out of his grip.

But I can’t.

“Knock that shit off,” he continues, his hot, heavy breath in my face. I wrinkle my nose. This . . . isn’t Colin. My skin crawls when I feel this strange man’s hand skim down my back, cupping my butt and hauling me close to his unmistakable erection.

Oh, God. This stranger, this unknown man, is going to rape me.

“You know you want it. Just let it happen. It can be our little dirty secret.”

Dirty secrets. I have enough of those to last a lifetime. I definitely don’t need any more.

I open my eyes to discover my nightmare is a reality. And it’s not Colin holding me too tight with his strong arms, his hand still clamped against my mouth.

It’s Roger.

A muffled scream escapes me, and he thrusts his face in mine, his golden eyes blazing with unmistakable fury. “Shut the f**k up,” he mutters. “I know you want it. You were looking at me all night.”

He was the one who looked at me, not that I’m able to tell him that. I can’t speak at all with his hand covering my mouth. My heart’s racing and I swear to God I’m going to have a panic attack if he doesn’t let me go. I struggle against him again, yelling the word please against his hand again and again.

His brows lower as he glares at me hard. “If I drop my hand, you promise not to scream?”

I nod furiously, willing to promise just about anything so I can breathe again. My muscles are tense, my body so rigid I’m afraid I might shatter.

Slowly he removes his hand from my face and I take a long, deep breath, exhaling through pursed lips. I’m shaking, trying my best to act like it’s no big deal that Roger is lying on top of me on his girlfriend’s couch. His hands are everywhere, his mouth pressed against my neck, and I press my lips together, breathing through my nose.

Oh God, he really is going to rape me. All while his girlfriend is sleeping just a few feet away.

“You yell and I’ll tell Angie you asked for it. That you came on to me. She’ll believe me over you. She always does,” he threatens, his hand gripping my left breast so hard tears spring to my eyes. I’m going to have bruises from the rough way he’s touching me.

He’s disgusting, and clearly he’s done this sort of thing before. Poor Angela! She has a total douchebag for a boyfriend. A douchebag who’s going to force himself on me and there’s nothing I can do about it.

“Your tits are small.” He squeezes me again, then delves his hand beneath my T-shirt to touch my bare br**sts. He pinches my nipple and I bite my lip at the intense pain that shoots through me. “I bet you’re a decent f**k, though. And those sexy lips would look real nice wrapped around my dick.”

I can’t take it. I can’t. Shutting my eyes against his words, I think of myself not so long ago, on my knees and with a stranger’s penis in my mouth. How my brain would shut down every time I did it, how I’d become numb to the men’s grunts and groans, to the way they touched me, their hands in my hair, their guttural voices encouraging me to suck harder, take it deeper.

Remembering when I snuck into Colin’s office and gave him a blow job. The first one that I actually enjoyed. How powerful I’d felt, how much pleasure it had given me to see the rapturous expression on his beautiful face, the sweet, sexy things he said to me. His fingers delving into my hair, lifting it away so he could watch.

“Let me go,” I tell Roger, my voice firm. “Right now, or I’ll scream loud enough to wake up the entire building.”

“Do it and you’re f**ked.” He laughs, the sound mirthless. “Both figuratively and for real.”

I don’t care. Maybe this has happened enough times that Angela will believe me over her boyfriend. I have to at least try.

No way can I let this pig touch me any longer.

Parting my lips, I scream, the sound loud and shrill in the otherwise quiet. A door slams open and Roger leaps away from me and off the couch just as an overhead light comes on.

“What the hell is going on?” Angela’s standing in the middle of the living room, her eyes wide as they go from me to Roger and back to me.

I sit up, tugging my shirt back into place, wincing when the soft fabric skims over my aching nipple. A shiver moves through me. God, that jerk is rough! “Your boyfriend jumped me.”

“Baby, she jumped me. I came out here for a glass of water and she attacked me.” He goes to Angela, grabbing her upper arms and giving her a little shake. “She’s been looking at me all night like she wanted to eat me up. Remember how I told you that before we went to bed?”