Chapter 9

She tried to push Wesley off, her hands trembling as she fought against him.

Tears welled up in Tara’s eyes, her cheeks flushed, and her body began to betray her control, a soft sound escaping from her throat.

“No!” She refused to give in to despair.

Desperately, she bit down on the tip of her tongue. The sharp pain jolted her mind back to clarity. Summoning her strength, she raised her knee and drove it straight into Wesley’s nose.

He was kneeling on the carpet, bent over as he tried to pull off her tight jeans, and hadn’t expected her to fight back. Her knee hit his nose directly.

“Ah!” he screamed, releasing her hands as he clutched his nose and fell back, sitting on the floor in pain.

Tara scrambled to her feet, biting her tongue again to stay conscious. Her adrenaline surged, and she kicked him hard in the groin.

“Argh!” Wesley let out a guttural scream, curling up on the floor, writhing in agony.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tara spotted a small spray bottle poking out of his back pocket. Without hesitation, she grabbed it, held her breath, and sprayed it directly into his face multiple times.

Taking advantage of the chaos, she crawled and staggered toward the door.

The moment she opened it, a blast of cold air hit her face, clearing her thoughts slightly.

She quickly used her T-shirt to wipe off any fingerprints from the bottle, tossed it back into the room, slammed the door shut, and began running down the hallway.

But her legs felt weak, and she could barely move faster than a slow stumble, even as she clung to the wall for support.

Her body burned as if it were on fire, her mind consumed with a single thought of finding a man!

She knew if this continued, things would only get worse.

She would either lose control and humiliate herself in public or collapse and be taken advantage of by someone else.

“Call the police?” she thought to herself.

This kind of high-end nightclub was backed by powerful forces. If word got out, they would deal with her before the authorities arrived.

“Call a friend?” she muttered.

There wasn’t enough time!

“What should I do?

“What should I do?!” Panic consumed her thoughts.

A sharp click echoed from behind her.

Tara whipped her head around to see the door to the room next to number 88 opening.

Her heart sank. If Leo found her like this, he would surely send her straight back to Wesley!

Panic coursed through her veins.

Her best bet was to find an empty private room, hide inside, douse herself with cold water, and ride this out.

Desperately, she reached for the nearest door and pushed.

To her relief, it opened.

Tara didn’t hesitate. She slipped into the room and quickly shut the door behind her.

Just as the door clicked shut, she caught a glimpse of Nina walking toward room 88.

Nina pushed the door open, only to be yanked inside with a sharp scream.

Tara locked her door, bolting it and securing the chain.

The room was dark and silent. It was clearly empty. Relief flooded her, but almost immediately, the fiery heat in her body surged, overwhelming her.

She slid down against the wall, her strength giving out, and pulled off her T-shirt in an attempt to cool down.

Her breathing was heavy, and her pounding heartbeat echoed in her ears.

Her entire body felt as though it were being devoured by ants, the sensation unbearable. She couldn’t stop the soft, stifled moans that escaped her lips.

Suddenly, a sharp click pierced the air, and the lights flicked on.

Tara’s vision blurred, her consciousness slipping away. Through her hazy gaze, she saw a tall, striking man walking toward her.

He appeared to be in his early thirties, with sharp brows, deep-set eyes, a high nose bridge, and sculpted features that hinted at a mixed heritage.

To her, he was an oasis in the desert, a lifeline in her agony. Crawling toward him, she pleaded, “Help me… please…”

Even in her disheveled state, with her damp hair clinging to her face and her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, her natural beauty and alluring figure were undeniable.

The man’s sapphire-blue eyes darkened slightly. “Miss, should I call the police or an ambulance for you?”

Tara shook her head weakly, desperate to communicate. “Water… cold water…”

Grasping his leg for support, she pulled herself to her knees.

The moment her body came into contact with his, her fragile hold on rationality snapped like a taut string breaking under pressure.

One thought consumed her. “I need him. I need this man!” she thought.

Like a starving person grasping for bread, she flung her arms around him, her voice trembling with desperation. “Help me… I’ll pay you!”

The man stiffened at her touch.

He pulled her upright and said in a deep, steady voice, “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

But Tara couldn’t hear him anymore. Her ears buzzed, drowning out all sound. Her body felt drenched in heat, feverish, as if her blood were boiling. Each passing second pushed her closer to the edge, her heart pounding as if it might explode.

She rose onto her toes, tilted her head back, and kissed him, her actions filled with desperation. Like a snake, she coiled herself around his tall, lean frame, her trembling hands sliding toward his waistband.

His sapphire-blue eyes darkened, deep and unreadable.

“You’re the one who begged for this,” he murmured.