I couldn’t.
Pulling down the front of my leotard, he kneaded my breast. I went with it, even though my mind was screaming for him to stop. Yelling for him to get the fuck off of me.
“Jesus, Lexi, you feel fucking amazing,” he rasped near my ear, making my stomach recoil. Fighting the bile that began to rise up the back of my throat.
I let him think this was going to happen.
I let him touch me like he never had before.
I let him feel like I was his.
When in reality, I was suffocating to shove him off me. Another little piece of me dying inside. It seemed like the more time went on, the longer I let him have his way with me not, saying a damn thing about it.
I tried.
He became more aggressive, more demanding, more consuming. Grinding his hard cock up against me. When his hand moved toward my pussy, and his mouth retreated toward my nipple, I couldn’t do it anymore.
It was too much.
Memories flooded my mind, one right after the other. Playing like an old movie projector above me. I couldn’t stop them from appearing, one scene and then the next. They were ruthless and unforgiving.
“Fuck,” I whimpered, leaning my face away from his. Forcefully shoving him off of me to stand. I couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
He stumbled back, catching himself on the coffee table.
“I’m sorry, Nikolai. I’m really sorry, but I can’t do this.” I lifted my leotard back up, tucking my breasts safely behind the slim cotton material.
He glared up at me, his chest heaving, his nostrils flaring. “Do you want to fuck him? Is that what this is about? Or are you already fucking him? Because, you sure as hell don’t want to fuck me,” he viscously spewed.
“What are you talking about? Who… what…” I asked, shocked. Not being able to connect my thoughts.
“I see the way he looks at you. I see the way you look at him, too. You don’t hide it very well.”
I shook my head, confused. “Who the hell are you talking about?”
“Your dance partner. The goddamn pussy who touches you like you’re his.” He paced back and forth in front of me, roughly pulling at his hair.
“Are you for real? We’re acting. We perform together, it’s part of our job.”
“You’re MINE!” he roared, the veins pulsating in his neck. Making me cower away from him.
“You think I’m a fucking idiot, don’t you? After everything I’ve done for you. Waiting around like a lost fucking puppy. You’re nothing but a fucking cock tease, Lexi.”
“I’m no one’s, especially not yours. Now get the fuck out of my apartment!” I screamed, pointing toward the door. Tears began to surface, and my body began to shake. My adrenaline kicked in to high gear.
“Oh no, baby doll. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.” He lunged at me, catching me completely off guard. Pushing me up against the adjacent wall, my back and head hit with a hard thud as he caged me in with his arms. My vision instantly clouded, seeing nothing but spots.
For a split second, I thought this was a joke. God couldn’t be this cruel. He would never make me go through this again. My heart immediately dropped, and I instinctively screamed, trying to fight him off. Pounding my fists against his hard chest. He chuckled against my face, pressing his body and cock closer to mine.
“Fucking scream. You’re just making me harder.”
“Somebody help me! Somebody fucking help me!” I shouted bloody murder, putting up more of a struggle.
“The walls are fucking soundproof, Lexi,” he rasped in a menacing tone that made my body shudder.
“What?” I scoffed, pathetically thrashing around my entire body, trying to push him off and away from me.
He held me closer. Close enough to where I could knee him in the balls. My leg came up in between his, and connected with his dick. He hunched over and I thought I could run, but it backfired on me. He was able to enclose me even more.
He laughed.
The motherfucker laughed.
He rose up, clearing his throat. Staring me dead in the eyes. “You’re going to pay for that, bitch.” Before I even saw it coming, he raised his hand and backhanded me across the face so hard, I instantly tasted blood.
He didn’t let up, hitting me in the face a few more times. I could barely hold my own weight. The room went out of focus as he punched me in the stomach repeatedly, until I fell over onto the ground. Hyperventilating for air that wasn’t available for the taking. He kicked me in the ribs, causing me to fall on my back. Cringing, trying to curl into the fetal position to protect myself. All I could see was red seeping into my eyes.
He dropped to his knees in front of me, and grabbed me by my hair. Forcefully making me look up at him. Excruciating pain radiated through my entire body.
“This is how it’s going to go down.” He pulled out a knife from his pocket. I didn’t have time to contemplate what had just happened before he dragged me by my hair over to the couch. “I’m going to rip off your clothes,” he sneered, gliding the knife effortlessly down the front of my leotard and the elastic band of my dance tights. Ripping away my clothes, leaving me in just my sports bra and panties. Releasing my hair, he shoved me back down onto the ground as if I weighed nothing.
“And then… I’m going to pull out my cock.” He unbuckled his belt, jerking out his sorry excuse for a fucking dick. “Now, I’m going to fuck you with it. With or without your fucking consent, you no good fucking cock tease.”
He tackled me to the floor, gripping my hair from the top of my head this time, slamming it into the hardwood floor. Pain radiated throughout my body as I choked from the sudden loss of breath, the wind knocked out of me with his entire weight resting on my beaten body. My vision turned black again, forcing me to blink away the white spots.
“Don’t pass out. It won’t be as much fun if you pass out. But trust me, it won’t stop me if you do.”
I felt him scoot over my panties, exposing me. Breathing into the side of my neck. “I’ve never been with a virgin. Thanks for that.” His dick nudged into my entrance.
Before I could scream, or put up a fight, the door to my apartment slammed open. Breaking the drywall behind it.
“What the fuck?” Nikolai roared, immediately turning and blocking my view.
I shut my eyes, slipping into the darkness. A loud popping sound ricocheted off the walls, causing me to startle. A sudden warmth sprayed my face, my neck, my chest, and Nikolai’s body came crashing down on me. All two hundred pounds of him fell lax on my petite frame. If I thought I couldn’t breathe before, this was proving me wrong.
The sudden weight of his body was thrown off me as if he weighed nothing.
“Stop fucking screaming,” someone snarled close to my ear. I could barely hear them.
Was I screaming?
They wiped at my face, cleaning off the blood from my eyes so I could see.
“Stop fucking fighting me,” the mystery man sneered again.
Was I fighting?
They roughly gripped my arm, pulling me up to stand on my wobbly legs. I instantly fell over into a solid muscular chest. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close, making sure I wouldn’t fall. His scent immediately assaulted my senses.
I would know that smell anywhere.
Forever engrained in my mind.
“If you know what’s good for you, stop fucking screaming and stop fighting me.”
What?
My eyes fluttered open, still barely able to see through the haze of blood and God knows what else. I peered up through my lashes, locking gazes with dark, cold, soulless green eyes.
For some reason, I heard myself scream bloody fucking murder that time. It all happened so fast I didn’t have time to register what occurred next. All I saw was his gun raised above his head.
“I warned you, cariño.”
With sheer blunt force, the gun came crashing down. Hitting me on the back of the neck. And then everything went black.
I felt the soft, warm sheets beneath me before I even opened my eyes. My body felt like it was one with the mattress. A floating sensation coursed through me. My mind was as light as a feather, even though my body felt as heavy as a brick, sinking further and further into the linen sheets. My eyes fluttered open, or maybe they were still closed, the room I was apparently passed out in, was pitch black. I couldn’t see an inch in front of me.
It actually brought me comfort.
I was used to the darkness. I’d lived in it my whole life.
“You’re up,” a deep masculine voice startled me.
How long had he been there?
I didn’t say a word or make a sound, I hadn’t even moved. I couldn’t fathom how he knew I was awake. I barely realized I was awake. My eyes fluttered shut again.
Why was I so damn tired?
Before I could finish that thought, the night’s disturbing events came crashing down on me. What was supposed to be one of the most memorable nights of my life, turned into one of the most traumatic encounters. Adding to the endless pile of bullshit gone wrong in my life.
I tried to sit up, but my body refused to cooperate. I sank back down, whimpering in pain, unable to move from the place I laid. Before I could even blink, I felt a strong, solid grip grab my arm, helping me sit up. I hadn’t even heard him move, it was like he floated through air or something. His unexpected touch made me flinch. I always dreaded the feel of people touching me, but at this moment it seemed even worse.
He didn’t call me out on it, but he also didn’t remove his hands. Instead, he propped me up against the headboard. The mixture of his masculine scent and musky cologne surrounded me, penetrating my pores. Consuming me as he hovered above my battered frame. Resting my head back, I took a deep, painful breath, inhaling the smell that haunted me for years. Martinez. It made me feel dizzy, but content simultaneously. I eased into his embrace, ignoring the sharp pain that accompanied my movement. His presence brought a sense of calm and security over me. No one has ever had that effect on me before. My body in sync with my emotions melted into his touch even more.
He suddenly tensed for a split second, surprised by the unexpected change in my composure.
“Close your eyes,” he ordered in a tone I didn’t recognize, making me think I had an effect on him too.
I was about to ask why, when his hands vanished. All I heard was the sound of a light switch, clicking over on the nightstand. The light immediately blinded me, illuminating the bedroom. Emitting a sharp pain in my head that radiated in the back of my eyes. I suddenly understood why he told me to shut my eyes. I blinked away the haze and discomfort, finding him sitting in the armchair a few feet away. He just sat there like he never moved at all.
Did I just imagine him so close to me?
I watched him looking at me the same way he always had. It was like no time had passed between us. He was sitting back in the armchair with one leg placed over his knee, and his fingers brushing across his lips. He looked exactly the same, as if he hadn’t aged a day in the last five years. Except now he looked tired, exhausted even. Looking like he hadn’t slept in days. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was from staying with me, watching over me, guarding me…
Or if it was just because of the life he led.
I chose to believe the first one.
His black hair had fallen around his face, framing it perfectly like I once imagined it would. I instantly pictured him running his hands through it all night, restless, worried, waiting for me to wake up. He was as handsome as fucking ever. Better than I remembered him even.
He was sporting more facial hair than the last time I saw him, making him appear more distinguished, rugged, and dangerous. Not that he needed any help accomplishing the last one. His bright green eyes looked serene, but still void of any emotion. They were empty, no feeling pouring out of them whatsoever. His expression was vacant, and unforgiving. I never wanted to know what he was thinking more than I did in that second. The man was a blank canvas as always, so calm and collected, so naturally in tune with his surroundings.
So. Fucking. Him.
He wore black slacks with a black button down shirt. The first few buttons unfastened, showing off his big, muscular chest and what appeared to be a silver chain hanging around his neck. It looked like he was trying to hide it under his collared shirt, making it nearly impossible to see what it was. I found myself desperately wanting to know. My eyes instinctively wandered down to his arm, admiring how tan his skin was. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing a black beaded bracelet around his right wrist.
Another piece to this man’s puzzle.
My heart pounded against my chest, my mind reeling with thoughts of why I was there, and what he was going to do with me.
He was one of the good guys, right?
I wanted to look around the room, but I couldn’t will myself to look away from him. Our gazes locked, emotions running wild. Neither one of us wanting to break the intense connection we shared. Every last fiber of my being screamed for me to ask him what I wanted to know. I knew I wouldn’t get any answers, but it didn’t stop me from wanting to ask.
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, when he intercepted. Reading my mind, stating, “You want answers.”
I hesitantly nodded, not being able to find my voice. The emotions stirring through me were crippling me in ways I never thought possible. The anguish consuming my body and mind, an ache resonating in my soul. Only producing a possible fabricated illusion of what I still felt occurring between us. It still felt so fucking real to me.
Like he wanted me there.
Like he had wanted me there for a long time.
“How did you know what was happening in my apartment?” I blurted, pushing through the sentiments that were taking control of me. Needing to understand what he was about to divulge. Hoping he actually would.
He narrowed his eyes, once again looking at me with a familiar desire. The desire I had been dreaming about since the last time he touched me. I dreamt about him almost every night for the last five years. Sitting in the armchair by my bed, watching me sleep. There were times when I woke up in the middle of the night and I swear I just felt him there with me. Guarding me, like a dark angel trying to keep the nightmares at bay.
“Please, Martinez…” I begged, going against everything I ever believed in.
He cleared his throat, and sat forward in his chair searching my face for I don't know what. Eyeing me up and down, contemplating if he was going to tell me the truth or not. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect what he was going to reply.
Rasping through his fingers, “You live in my building. My men have always kept an eye on you.”
Lexi wasn’t scared of my presence, and that bothered me in ways I couldn’t begin to describe. It was such a foreign feeling, I refused to get used to.
She jerked back. Shocked with the truth I just revealed, having been watched unknowingly for four years. “Why?” she blurted, before she lost the courage to question me further.
I continued to rub my thumb along my lips, taking her in without her realizing I was doing so. Her dark brown hair was still long, flowing all around her face and down the sides of her body. She was thinner than the last time I saw her, which displeased me. Making me think she wasn’t taking care of herself properly. Her complexion pale, her pouty lips dry from dehydration. Her usually bright green eyes, solemn. Wanting to know the truth.
Wanting to know everything.
Especially about me.
Even with a marred up face, she still looked fucking beautiful. Her appearance was breathtaking under the dim lights of the room. I’d spent the last twenty-four hours, sitting in this goddamn chair, waiting for her to wake up. Resisting the urge to lay with her, pull her into my arms, and keep her safe. I hated fucking cuddling. But with her it would be different.
I knew everything would be different.
I also wished I coul
d revive the motherfucker Nikolai just to fucking kill him again. Slowly torture the piece of shit this time around, until he begged me for mercy.
The thought alone calmed me.
I carried her broken body back to my limo, immediately calling the doctor I had on my payroll. Making sure he was waiting for us the second we walked through my penthouse door. I laid her head in my lap in the limo, ordering my driver to buy wet wipes from the gas station near my building. Impatiently fucking waiting for him to bring them back. I fucking hated seeing Nikolai’s blood and brain remnants on her creamy skin. Tainting her perfect fucking flesh.
I closed the partition to give us some privacy, no one was allowed to see her naked but me and the doctor. Gently wiping off the dried blood from her face and her body, checking the bruises and wounds on her beautiful face. I carefully cut off her sports bra with my knife, exposing her breasts, needing to see the damage the motherfucker had caused to her ribs. Softly, feeling down the sides of her stomach to the top of her waist. I cleaned her off the best I could, given the shitty circumstances we were in.
I never wanted to physically hurt her. It pained me to have to knock her out, but I had no choice in the matter. She wouldn’t stop screaming and fighting me, we were seconds away from Nikolai’s men coming boss’s. Her hysterics could be heard through the entire building, easily giving away our location. We wouldn’t have made it out alive, so I did what I had to do, saving both our asses.
Without thinking twice about it, I removed my suit jacket, unbuttoned my shirt, taking it off to put it on her. She drowned in it. I took my suit jacket, and laid it over her, to provide extra warmth. Ignoring the fact I liked seeing her in my clothes.
Dark thoughts loomed in the back of my mind.
Thirty minutes later we were back at my penthouse. I carried her in the elevator, and she didn’t stir once. I tried not to let my worry for her take over, telling myself she would be fine. She was just exhausted and overwhelmed from the night’s traumatic events. Dr. Valdez checked her thoroughly, making sure she didn’t have any broken bones or any severe internal injuries.