Three Broken Promises (One Week Girlfriend #3)(62)
Author: Monica Murphy

“Your tits are small.” He squeezes me again, then delves his hand beneath my T-shirt to touch my bare br**sts. He pinches my nipple and I bite my lip at the intense pain that shoots through me. “I bet you’re a decent f**k, though. And those sexy lips would look real nice wrapped around my dick.”

I can’t take it. I can’t. Shutting my eyes against his words, I think of myself not so long ago, on my knees and with a stranger’s penis in my mouth. How my brain would shut down every time I did it, how I’d become numb to the men’s grunts and groans, to the way they touched me, their hands in my hair, their guttural voices encouraging me to suck harder, take it deeper.

Remembering when I snuck into Colin’s office and gave him a blow job. The first one that I actually enjoyed. How powerful I’d felt, how much pleasure it had given me to see the rapturous expression on his beautiful face, the sweet, sexy things he said to me. His fingers delving into my hair, lifting it away so he could watch.

“Let me go,” I tell Roger, my voice firm. “Right now, or I’ll scream loud enough to wake up the entire building.”

“Do it and you’re f**ked.” He laughs, the sound mirthless. “Both figuratively and for real.”

I don’t care. Maybe this has happened enough times that Angela will believe me over her boyfriend. I have to at least try.

No way can I let this pig touch me any longer.

Parting my lips, I scream, the sound loud and shrill in the otherwise quiet. A door slams open and Roger leaps away from me and off the couch just as an overhead light comes on.

“What the hell is going on?” Angela’s standing in the middle of the living room, her eyes wide as they go from me to Roger and back to me.

I sit up, tugging my shirt back into place, wincing when the soft fabric skims over my aching nipple. A shiver moves through me. God, that jerk is rough! “Your boyfriend jumped me.”

“Baby, she jumped me. I came out here for a glass of water and she attacked me.” He goes to Angela, grabbing her upper arms and giving her a little shake. “She’s been looking at me all night like she wanted to eat me up. Remember how I told you that before we went to bed?”

She eyes him warily before her gaze goes to mine. “Are you only wearing your underwear?”

I glance down. I’m wearing an oversized T-shirt that once belonged to Danny and it hits me almost at my knees, it’s so huge. “Am I asking for him to jump me because of what I’m wearing?”

Her eyes narrow as she continues to contemplate me. “No bra either, huh.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I chance a look at Roger. His expression is smug, confident. Asshole! “I was asleep, Angela. I wake up and he’s lying on top of me, trying to kiss me!”

“Liar,” Roger murmurs. “You were begging for it, your hands all over me. You said you wanted to suck my . . .”

“Shut up! Stop it!” Angela screams, placing her hands over her ears, again reminding me of a little kid. “You need to go, Jen. I can’t have you living here.”

“Wait . . . what?” Did she really just say that?

Her expression is full of remorse as she drops her hands to her sides. “You’ll tempt him. Roger . . . he’s a recovering sex addict.”

Recovering, my ass! Does she really believe that? “Angela, he said he’s done this sort of thing before and that you always believe him.”

“It has happened before. He’s in therapy now.” She slowly shakes her head. “I’d hoped he was healed, but I guess not. It doesn’t help, how you’re dressed.”

“How am I dressed inappropriately?” I jump to my feet, the blanket falling away from my body and onto the floor. “Look at me!”

“Yes, look at you.” She’s wearing pajama pants and a matching top, completely covered from head to toe. I can tell she’s wearing a bra and her feet are covered in socks.

Weird.

“I can see your legs—and your chest through your shirt. It’s totally inappropriate.” She actually has the nerve to shudder. “You need to go. I can’t have you as a roommate. Roger can’t handle it, so neither can I.”

Funny, how Roger has clammed up completely. “I’ll leave first thing tomorrow,” I say firmly, ignoring the panic that fills me yet again.

Where will I go? Where will I stay? I can’t keep doing this.

“No.” She drags the word out, dropping her head so she’s not looking at me. “You need to leave. Right now.”

“But . . . where will I go?” My voice is small. I sound pitiful. I feel pitiful.

Kicked out yet again.

“That’s not my problem now, is it?” She looks to Roger, who’s standing right next to her. “We’ll stay in the bedroom so we won’t get in your way, but I’m going to have to ask you to pack your stuff and leave.”

“What about my deposit?” My head is spinning so fast I’m getting dizzy. I fall heavily onto the couch, trying to breathe through the uncontrollable shivers racking my body. “I need that money.”

“Nonrefundable. Didn’t you read the fine print?” She sighs, as if she’s the one who’s being put out on the street. “I’m sorry this didn’t work out, Jen. I had high hopes.”

I don’t say a word. I’m afraid if I open my mouth, the insults will start flying and I won’t be able to stop them. I’ll end up calling her every horrible name I can come up with and she might kick me out without my stuff. Now that would suck.

So I remain quiet, looking up just as I see Roger trail behind her down the hall toward her bedroom. He turns to look at me after Angela has slipped inside her room, his glittering eyes full of hate and lust. He flicks his tongue at me in a dirty gesture and I give him the finger, making him laugh just before he slams the door.

Jumping at the sound, I wrap my arms around me to ward off the chills. I guess Roger was right in what he said earlier.

I’m completely f**ked.

Colin

Somehow, some way, my dad got the name and address of Jen’s new roommate within a few hours, just like I asked. I didn’t question how he did it. Didn’t really want to know, truthfully. My dad’s always had a bit of a devious, criminal streak running through him. He knows some shady characters. Gangster types the average person wouldn’t dare associate with.

But my dad isn’t the average person. He doesn’t give a shit. He actually believes having “those sorts of people”—his quote, not mine—in his back pocket is a good thing.