Read Online Lead Him Not Into Temptation (Redemption Book 2) by M.L. Steinbrunn - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: M.L. Steinbrunn
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entrance; those are the rules,” he replies as his eyes scan my body, probably appraising whether I’m someone of importance or just some well-dressed groupie. “But you know, with a little persuasion, I’ve been known to bend the rules a little,” he adds, moving closer to me and placing a hand on my ass.
I quickly bat his hand away. “Not interested, asshole. Do I look like the type who would fuck some random limp-dick roadie just for entrance into a small-time concert?”
His breath is warm and acidic, breathing heavily on me as he considers his next chess move. I don’t back down though, not from this fuckwad who thinks he can push me around. However, he surprises the hell out of me when he grabs my hand and places it on his dick.
“I think you look like a slut who’s pretending she wouldn’t fuck anyone who would get her want she wants. And, I would say, right now, you want entrance into this concert. I also think you’ll find there is nothing limp about this situation.”
His other hand once again finds my ass, squeezing and rubbing it so hard that I realize I’m outmatched and I need to back away from the situation. I move my hand away from his less than impressive area, rear my knee back as much as I can in his grasp, and kick him in the junk hard enough to double him over and cause blunt force trauma to his little swimmers.
“I said I wasn’t interested, dipshit,” I say, taking a step away from him as he catches his breath. I refuse to leave, if anything I’ll call one of the guys and have them meet me at the gate to let me in.
When he finally gathers his bearings, he stands and the look on his face sends an uncomfortable chill up my back; rage is radiating off of him. “You bitch,” he roars as he raises his hand and slams it across my face, sending me flying to the unforgiving asphalt. An explosion of pain spreads throughout my cheek and the ground rips open the skin on my knee. I feel the blood begin to drip down my leg.
I’m left on the ground, stunned. I’ve never been struck before and I don’t know how to respond. I don’t want to exacerbate the situation by verbally attacking him further, but I don’t want to run away and let this go as if I accept what he’s done as acceptable. I’m only on the ground for a few seconds, with no chance to make up my mind on my course of action, before he’s picking me up and pulling me by my hair toward a shadowed part of the gate.
I let out as much of a scream as I can muster, recognizing this might be my only chance to call for help. “Shut the fuck up,” he huffs, as he throws me against the fence, pinning me between it and his chest. His fingers are twisted into my hair, holding me in place, my battered face being scraped further by the metal of the fence.
“Please,” I plead. “Please stop.” I try to wiggle out of his grasp but he’s too strong. His acidic, beer breath is hot on my neck and it turns my stomach. I continue to struggle until I feel his free hand moving under my skirt ripping at my panties. My body tenses and panic overwhelms me.
“Women like you need to be taken down a few notches,” I hear him whisper “I plan on teaching you a fucking lesson.”
My brain begins to shut off to the present, making way for the images of the night that changed everything. It was an event I could never truly remember, but the scenes in the photographs are something I could never forget. They flood my head, taking over.
Before his hands can violate my body further, the weight forcing me against the fence is gone and I slide down until I’m sitting on the ground, huddled against the jagged metal, gripping onto it for safety.
My eyes are pinched shut, but somehow tears have managed to escape and are sliding down my face. I feel completely out of control as my body shakes with adrenaline, but still I refuse to release the safety of the chain-link. When I feel hands on my face and then smoothing through my hair, the sensation
I quickly bat his hand away. “Not interested, asshole. Do I look like the type who would fuck some random limp-dick roadie just for entrance into a small-time concert?”
His breath is warm and acidic, breathing heavily on me as he considers his next chess move. I don’t back down though, not from this fuckwad who thinks he can push me around. However, he surprises the hell out of me when he grabs my hand and places it on his dick.
“I think you look like a slut who’s pretending she wouldn’t fuck anyone who would get her want she wants. And, I would say, right now, you want entrance into this concert. I also think you’ll find there is nothing limp about this situation.”
His other hand once again finds my ass, squeezing and rubbing it so hard that I realize I’m outmatched and I need to back away from the situation. I move my hand away from his less than impressive area, rear my knee back as much as I can in his grasp, and kick him in the junk hard enough to double him over and cause blunt force trauma to his little swimmers.
“I said I wasn’t interested, dipshit,” I say, taking a step away from him as he catches his breath. I refuse to leave, if anything I’ll call one of the guys and have them meet me at the gate to let me in.
When he finally gathers his bearings, he stands and the look on his face sends an uncomfortable chill up my back; rage is radiating off of him. “You bitch,” he roars as he raises his hand and slams it across my face, sending me flying to the unforgiving asphalt. An explosion of pain spreads throughout my cheek and the ground rips open the skin on my knee. I feel the blood begin to drip down my leg.
I’m left on the ground, stunned. I’ve never been struck before and I don’t know how to respond. I don’t want to exacerbate the situation by verbally attacking him further, but I don’t want to run away and let this go as if I accept what he’s done as acceptable. I’m only on the ground for a few seconds, with no chance to make up my mind on my course of action, before he’s picking me up and pulling me by my hair toward a shadowed part of the gate.
I let out as much of a scream as I can muster, recognizing this might be my only chance to call for help. “Shut the fuck up,” he huffs, as he throws me against the fence, pinning me between it and his chest. His fingers are twisted into my hair, holding me in place, my battered face being scraped further by the metal of the fence.
“Please,” I plead. “Please stop.” I try to wiggle out of his grasp but he’s too strong. His acidic, beer breath is hot on my neck and it turns my stomach. I continue to struggle until I feel his free hand moving under my skirt ripping at my panties. My body tenses and panic overwhelms me.
“Women like you need to be taken down a few notches,” I hear him whisper “I plan on teaching you a fucking lesson.”
My brain begins to shut off to the present, making way for the images of the night that changed everything. It was an event I could never truly remember, but the scenes in the photographs are something I could never forget. They flood my head, taking over.
Before his hands can violate my body further, the weight forcing me against the fence is gone and I slide down until I’m sitting on the ground, huddled against the jagged metal, gripping onto it for safety.
My eyes are pinched shut, but somehow tears have managed to escape and are sliding down my face. I feel completely out of control as my body shakes with adrenaline, but still I refuse to release the safety of the chain-link. When I feel hands on my face and then smoothing through my hair, the sensation
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