Page 3 of Hot As Ice

TOO MANY HOURS later, I’m ready to faint from being on my feet all night.

It’s late by the time Joe and I are locking up. He makes me close more often than not, but tonight he hasn’t left early like he usually does. I hate spending more time in his gross presence than I have to, but I desperately need to keep this job.

“Night, Joe,” I tell him, and turn away to walk to my car.

“Stevie, wait up.” He jogs over to me. I keep walking, eager to get to my car and drive to my tiny apartment, take a shower, and hit the hay. I really, really don’t want to talk to Joe about anything.

“Hey, I said wait up,” he growls from right behind me. When I don’t stop, he grabs my upper arm and whirls me around. “What the fuck? You think you can ignore me?”

“I’m tired. I wanna go home.”

He gets in my face, baring his teeth. “I want to talk to you.” Still grabbing my arm, he pushes me until I’m backed up against a car. I’m not usually scared of Joe, but something in his eyes makes my breath hitch.

“What do you want?” I ask, willing myself to stay calm.

He leans into me, his breath hot in my face. “I just wanna talk.”

I gulp and turn my face away, but he grabs my chin and makes me face him. “I wanna take you out on a date.”

Ugh. It’s not the first time he’s asked me out, but he has never been this forceful before.

“I don’t date people I work with,” I tell him, keeping my voice even. It’s just the two of us in this parking lot. I’m wearing a tight white t-shirt and the short black mini skirt he insists the female servers wear, and I feel very exposed. And vulnerable.

He leans in closer until his chest is touching mine. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I flinch. “Please stop.”

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he growls. “I just gave you a fucking compliment, you ungrateful bitch.”

His disgusting words make my heart pound. I need to get away from him. Now.

Before I can even make a move, he’s pinned me harder against the car and one of his hands is sliding up between my legs. I clench my thighs.

“Stop it!”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarls, looking possessed. “You’ll let me fuck you or I’ll fucking fire you.”

Gasping, I push at his chest with all my might. It takes him by surprise, and he stumbles, but he’s back on me a split second later. I scream.

His hand comes over my mouth and I thrash my head side to side, trying to bite him. Raising my leg, I hope I can knee this asshole in the balls. But he’s so much stronger than me. He grabs me by the shoulders and slams me back against the car, making pain shoot up my back.

“Fuck off!” I scream. “Let me go, you asshole.”

His hand comes around my throat, and for the first time during our struggle, I panic, thinking he’s going to kill me. His grip tightens and I choke, unable to scream.

My hands come over his around my throat as stars appear in my vision. I claw at his fingers futilely.

Suddenly, I’m on my knees, gasping for breath, heart pounding. My vision is still off, and I don’t have the strength to raise my head. I cling to the ground, trying to get my breathing back to normal, trying to calm down. Tears sting my eyes.

A pair of hands come under my arms and lift me up. Freaking out, thinking it’s Joe, I try to fight him off again. Then I’m pulled back against a strong, broad chest and a gentle voice whispers in my ear, “Shhh, relax, sweetheart. You’re okay.”

Whoever is holding me strokes my arm. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”

A woodsy, masculine scent envelops me. His cologne. His deep voice keeps whispering in my ear, and against all odds, it relaxes me, and I lean back against his solid form.

“That’s it. That’s a good girl. Just relax. You’re safe now.”

“Who are you?” Tears are streaming down my face now and I sniffle.