Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“Hey,” he greets, giving me a friendly smile, revealing perfectly white, straight teeth. “I feel like I’ve never seen you at one of Roman’s parties before.” He shakes his head before answering his own question. “Nah, I would definitely remember a pretty face like yours.”
“Hi,” is all I can muster. His smile widens, as if he appreciates my timidity, and my insides tighten. This is new territory for me. Guys, talking, dating. I’ve never done any of those things, but I have the desire to do them, eventually.
“You look like you could use a drink.” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond to him. “Come on. We’ll get you something.” Putting his hand gently against my lower back, he ushers me to the kitchen, which is now a makeshift bar.
“Uh, thanks…” I walk with him, even though I really don’t want to. His hand on my lower back, however innocent the touch might seem, makes me uneasy.
I look around the room once more, not even thinking about it as I search for Roman. Even now, I search him out for protection. Even after everything that has happened today, after all the horrible things he said to me, I still want him near me. I want him to make me feel safe. I want his arms wrapped around me. I worry I might be growing obsessed, but I’m in his care and want to be near him.
When we get to the kitchen, I look up at the man with his hand on my back and watch him pour me something to drink. He smiles again, and I’m certain it’s genuine. I can’t help but wonder if there is something wrong with me. Why would I only feel safe with Roman? He obviously doesn't care about me. He is mean and unapologetic, so why does he mean so much to me? I just wish I didn't feel like I need him.
“I’m Ryan, by the way,” he introduces himself, handing me the glass.
“Sophie.” I reach for the glass and take a small sip. A strong alcohol taste mixed with some fruit juice hits my tongue and burns down my throat, filling my belly with warmth.
“Good?” Ryan lifts a brow, his smile very much still intact.
I give him a half smile and take another sip. He watches me for a long moment before guiding us toward the patio doors that lead out into the backyard. Red flags go up in my mind. I dig my feet into the tile floor to stop us from moving forward.
“Wait…” I stop him, panic gnawing at me. “Why don't we just stay inside?”
“Are you worried about being alone with me?”
I swallow and shake my head no. “Of course not, it just looks like this is where all the fun is.” I force a smile and hope he can't tell how fake it is. I look past him to the people in the living room, but no one is even looking in our direction and the music is way too loud for anyone to hear me if I called for help.
He keeps his hand on my lower back, and all I want is for him to get his hands off. When he turns and guides us back in the other direction, I relax, but that relaxation is short lived when he pushes me against a wall out of sight from everybody else. The sudden movement caused the drink in my hand to fall, the glass clattering to the floor. Some of the liquid coats the front of my shirt, but I'm more worried about this man caging me against the wall.
“Please move.” I try to keep my voice firm, but to my disappointment, it still comes out shaky.
“Don’t be like that. We’re just going to have some fun.” His face is so close, his hot breath fans against my cheek. I turn my face away from him, the odor of alcohol so strong, I might get drunk off the smell alone. He leans even closer, and bile rises in my throat as his lips graze my skin. I press my hands to his chest and push hard, but he doesn’t budge.
The air in my lungs stills as I beat my fists against his chest. When all he does is give me a smile, I lift my leg and knee him right in the groin. He lets go of me immediately and takes a step back, groaning in pain and reaching for his balls.
Not wasting any time, I run out of the kitchen and through the living room, running into people in my haste to get away. No one says anything, or even looks at me, and I don’t turn around to apologize. People are either too self-absorbed or drunk to realize what just happened only a few feet away from them.