Sinners & Gin - Top Shelf

He took hold of my arm. Firm but not aggressive.

“I would stay here, if I were you,” the man said. “If you walk away alone, all eyes will be on you. You are by far the most beautiful woman in this room which means even Daddy Dearest will take pause to look at you.” He tightened his grip. “You’re safer here with me.”

I didn’t know what to say. Or do.

I swallowed hard hoping that I could somehow hide how nervous I was. My heart pounded even harder against my chest. Was I more afraid of being caught? Or more afraid of this man?

Tall. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark everything. A suit that screamed success and class. Hands that were big enough to grasp my entire arm.

Was he my savior or my enemy? Did he know my father? Would he tell him and deliver me to him to earn points with my father in his line of yes men?

He spun me around so my back was facing the main room and I was directly in front of him. He placed his hand on my throat and spoke softly. “What would a kitty do right now?”

I remained silent, but I didn’t break away from his hold. I didn’t want to draw any attention my way.

His eyes glanced over my shoulder, and I was tempted to turn and see if indeed he was staring at my father or if this was all a sick way to dominate me. I was pretty sure this was a man who was used to getting whatever he wanted… most likely by simply taking it.

“I wouldn’t turn around if I were you. Your father is looking this way.”

I tensed as tears welled in my eyes. Emotion prickled the back of my throat, and I wanted to run as fast as I could but also knew that was not an option. His hand remained around my throat, and though I should be terrified or at the very least appalled, I remained completely still and trusted this stranger at his word.

“Don’t worry. All he can see is your back. Stay still. Play the part.”

My eyes burned, but I refused to cry. I refused to show just how scared I was. My father would kill him for touching me. I wouldn’t put it past my father to kill me for the shame this would place on him—especially if I were found out like this in front of his colleagues. Temptation to turn my head and see for myself was quickly squashed as his hand tightened, restricting my airflow just enough to warn me to stop.

Fingerprints on my neck.

But my father… what would he do to me? I had no idea but feared it would be far worse than death.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” the man said as he pulled me closer to him with his hand still tight around my neck.

Possessive.

He was showing the room that I was his.

His.

“I’m not afraid,” I finally spoke, my lips entirely too close to this man’s face. It was hard to breathe, but not just because this man held my neck.

Fear and lust blended. This man… this fucking man. Who was he? Why did I just stand there and allow him to hold me in such a dominating way?

“You should be. You should be very afraid.” His eyes glanced over my shoulder. “Your father’s coming this way.”

He’s working the room as he always does. I should have already left by now.

My knees weakened, and if it weren’t for the fact that this man still held me by the neck, the overwhelming apprehension of what was to come when my father discovered me at his pet party would have made me crumple to the floor.

The man released my neck just as quickly as he placed his palm there and exchanged my flesh for my hair. He took a handful of my pink wig and pulled me even closer, claiming my mouth with his. He pulled away enough to command, “Kiss me as if your life depends on it.”

Practically feeling my father’s steps behind me, I knew the only way to prevent him from walking up and greeting us was to engage in something that my father wouldn’t want to interrupt.

God forbid him acting as a cock block to any guest in his house.

So, I kissed the stranger.

I kissed him with as much passion as my frightened body could muster.

His tongue darted inside my mouth and caressed my own. Smooth, warm, intoxicating.

My first real kiss. My first real man. This was not a schoolboy kiss by the outside bathrooms. This was not a kiss from a boy who walked me to the front door but was too awkward to do anything else.

No, this was a kiss that commanded every sensation in my body.

Was my father watching?

Was the show of affection enough for him to walk away to go greet other guests?