Hook's Pan (Kingdom, #5)

But this wasn’t what she wanted. She was no longer the nineteen-year-old sorority chick who thought it was hot to have drunk sex on a couch covered in stains of questionable origins in the back of some seedy frat house. She was now a twenty-six year old woman who paid rent, owned a car, and who realized this had been a stupid, idiotic mistake and if she hadn’t been so damned depressed today she would never have found herself in this position.

Sloppy kisses landed on her brows, the bridge of her nose. This had been such a bad idea. She’d gone to the club tonight to try and forget, try not to remember what she’d found this night ten years ago. Not only did she not forget, somehow she’d wound up bringing a man home.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, too drunk to notice how tense and uninterested she was.

Pushing his jaw aside, she groaned. “Stop. Please.”

But he wasn’t hearing her. She was trapped beneath him on the couch while his busy hands roamed her breasts, making her skin crawl. Trying to wiggle out of the way only seemed to spur him on. He ground himself into her and her skin crawled as his hard length pressed into her thigh.

Then his mouth was clamping onto hers, and his sloppy kiss mixed with his boozy breath made her stomach revolt.

“Get off of me.” She huffed, louder now. She pounded on his chest as her heart rate inched higher. This needed to stop. Panic tried to worm its way through her brain. Was he just not hearing, or was something worse getting ready to happen?

It wasn’t like she’d brought home a stranger; she’d known Brent for years—the younger brother of a guy she used to have the hots for in college. Brent had casually flirted with her the last three years, and seeing him tonight, all big and buff, he hadn’t looked like the younger, little twerp high school senior she’d remembered from years ago. He was a man, she was hurting, and she hadn’t wanted to be alone.

“Brent, please. Stop.” She pushed at his face as he tried to suck on her neck. “I don’t want a hickey, stop!” she lifted her voice.

Lost in an alcohol-fueled haze, he probably wasn’t even hearing her. Sticky hands were latching onto the curve of her ass, trailing hotly down her thigh.

“Mmm, baby, you’re making me so fucking horny. You ready for my cock, ‘cause it’s burning for you.”

Enough. She’d had enough! Thrashing violently, she shoved her knee into his crotch.

“What the hell!” Rough hands shoved her back, then he was cradling his balls in his hands as sweat poured off the brows of his sun kissed skin. “If you didn’t want this, then why did you invite me into your apartment?” he wheezed.

“I asked you to stop.” She clutched her chest, only now realizing just how far his busy hands had gone. Somehow he’d managed to unbutton the top four buttons of her navy blouse, she clutched the shirt together, hoping he wouldn’t catch any more glimpses of her hot pink bra than he already had. “I’m sorry I hurt you, but you should have stopped.”

And for a moment she remembered him as he used to be, a skinny high school kid with a huge crush on her, and her anger turned to shame. Yes, he’d gone too far, but she should never have allowed him in her home. She knew better.

“Look,” she reached out a hand, “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean for this to get so—”

His golden eyes were alive with fury and hate. “Get away from me.” Breath sawing out of his lungs, he sat up and squeezed his eyes shut. “Just, give me a second, and then I’ll bounce.”

Feeling all sorts of stupid, she shook her head. “Brent, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you really bad?”

His eyes were cutting as he snarled, “You’re just lucky I don’t call the cops on you, crazy bitch.”

“What?” She shoved to her feet and pointed at the door. “You took this where it never should have gone. Even if I invited you in, that didn’t mean I was giving you a pass to do whatever you wanted with me.”

He snarled, upper lip curling with disgust as his hard eyes scanned slowly up and down the length of her body. “Wasn’t even good.”

“Get out of my house!” she screamed, rage building like toxin in her bones, making her vision red and her head hazy.

His laugh dripped contempt. “You’re done. Through. Everyone in Phi Alpha’s gonna know. Don’t come slummin’ around no more…”

Running on pure instinct and adrenaline, she reached under her couch and withdrew her .45.

“Whoa!” He held up his hands, backpedaling quickly.

He didn’t know it wasn’t loaded, and she wasn’t going to tell, but she was never going to be weak. Not after what had happened to her sister. No one would ever hurt her like that. Ever. Arms trembling, she jerked her chin toward the door. “I said. Get. Out.”

Nostrils flaring, jaw clenched tight, pants still unzipped and shirt untucked, he turned on his heels and left, slamming the door hard behind him.

Adrenaline burning up quickly after he’d left, she dropped onto the couch as tears poured down her eyes.