With A Twist(25)
“You are not going to—?” I start to say, intent on blowing this whole operation out of the water if I have to save Andrea from being raped by Lance.
“Relax, dude,” he says with a chuckle. “I like my women willing. But I am going to test her.”
With that, Lance turns away from me and walks into Simon’s office. I follow him in and watch as Andrea raises her head and pushes her hair out of her face. I don’t know if it’s an act or not, but she looks scared. This causes my own fear and anger to surge again.
Lance stalks up to her and wraps his large hand around her throat, pulling her up straighter. Leaning his face in, he hisses at her, “You think you call the shots around here, Nikki?”
“No,” she whispers fearfully, now standing on her tiptoes to try to keep balance with the way Lance is holding her up by her throat.
I stand poised… ready to attack if Lance makes a move to hurt her. The fear in her voice has me on edge, and every protective instinct I have as a man rears up inside of me. Andrea’s eyes are flared wide, her bottom lip quivering. I take a step toward Lance to put an end to this, but then I look down at Andrea’s hands. Both of her arms hang loose beside her body, but her fists are balled up tight. I watch as she opens her hands, and then curls her fingers inward again in tight reflex.
Open… close. Open… close.
She’s not scared.
She’s pissed, yet she’s still maintaining an act.
Immediately, my pulse calms somewhat, because her body language is telling me that she has a grip on the situation and she is not fearful as to where she’s at right now.
Reluctantly, I decide to trust my partner and let it play out.
Wanting to appear nonchalant and vaguely interested in what Lance is going to do to “test her,” I walk over to one of the chairs and sit down. I stretch my legs out in front of me, casually resting my elbows on the armrests.
“You are the fucking employee, Nikki,” Lance snarls in her face. “You do not say no to the customers.”
“Okay,” she says quickly… fearfully… giving him no fight.
“You want this fucking job?” Lance asks, his nose just an inch from her own. He gives her a tiny shake to further bully her.
“Y-y-y-es,” she stammers, and her fists clench and uncurl.
Clench and uncurl.
“Then you better do anything Simon, Raze, or I tell you to do, you hear me?” he says with menace.
“Yes,” she blurts out. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I’ll go back to that man now, if you want.”
Lance doesn’t say anything, just stares at her intently. I see his eyes roaming back and forth between her own, gauging the truth of her words.
He releases his grip on her throat and her heels go back down until she’s standing on her own again.
“No, that opportunity is already ruined,” Lance says quietly, and I let out a sigh of relief. It appears Lance just wanted to scare the shit out of her.
Reaching out, he skims his knuckles down her arm. His voice is thoughtful when he says, “But I’m not sure if you really mean what you say.”
“I do,” Andrea assures him.
Good girl. She sounds completely obedient.
“Let’s test that out,” Lance says, and I immediately go back on alert again. I sit up straighter in my chair, prepared to strike if necessary.
Lance grips Andrea by the arm and then gives her a push my way. She stumbles… rights herself again, and then straightens up, looking back over her shoulder at Lance.
“Give my boy Raze here a blow job,” he says with an evil grin on his face. “A stellar fucking blow job. In fact, get on your fucking hands and knees, crawl your ass over to him, and beg him to let you blow him. You do that, and then I’ll believe you when you say you’ll do anything to keep this job.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
No way.
No fucking way is this going to happen.
Chapter 8
Andrea
“Do it,” Lance barks at me, and I jerk in response.
Conflicting emotions run through me. Fear that this isn’t just Lance fucking with me… that he has something more nefarious planned.
Relief.
Relief that he’s not the one interested in getting a blow job, and relief I didn’t have to prove my loyalty by going back upstairs to fuck that guy.
Guilt.
Guilt that Wyatt has no say so in any of this, because what little I’ve come to know about this man… I know that he, more than anything, doesn’t want me to be violated in anyway. Even if I have to give him a blow job, and he’s the one receiving pleasure, he will still feel like he’s violating me.
Shame.
Shame because the thought of giving Wyatt a blow job causes skitters of pleasure to course through me. Odd… I never much enjoyed it with David but for some reason, my mouth waters thinking about doing that to Wyatt.