I don’t stop fighting. I can’t.
When I’ve managed to wiggle us toward the foot of the bed, a little closer to a possible escape, Ronnie seems to sense the direction I’m thinking and he runs a hand beneath me to push us up farther onto the bed. This time he stretches out full-length on top of me, trapping my legs between his as he rolls his top half away. For a second, his face is illuminated by the flickering torches and I see a mad desire in his eyes. That’s when true fear blazes through me. In my gut, I realize that he’s not going to take no for an answer.
“Ronnie, I mean it. Get off me right now,” I hiss.
“If only your body agreed with what that filthy little mouth is saying,” he says with a growling laugh, taking both of my wrists and jerking my arms above my head. His hands are so big, he subdues them both in one of his, leaving the other free to roam over my torso and follow along with his mouth.
My shirt has ridden up my abdomen, leaving my midriff bare. He rubs his palm over the skin and then shoves it up under my shirt, easily pushing my bra up with it. I feel him turn his hand and, with a yank, snap the front closure open, exposing me to the cool night air.
I catch and hold my breath, the reality of my situation momentarily paralyzing me. He finds my right breast immediately, kneading and pinching painfully. It’s the way that he attacks my naked flesh, like a ravenous dog, that puts me into motion.
Jerking, kicking and twisting every muscle in my body at the same time, I fight Ronnie with all the fight that I can find. I unearth a panicked scream somewhere from the bottom of my burning lungs just before he grabs a handful of my shirt and rips it from me in one sharp wrench.
I don’t even try to cover myself with my hands. I flutter them around, trying to keep them from being recaptured. When I find his face, I sink my fingernails into Ronnie’s temples. I dig in and pull, raking my nails down and tearing his skin as I go. Ronnie howls in pain and, even in the dark, I see the streaks of blood appear on either side of his face.
“You bitch! That’s too rough!”
Ronnie dips his head and bites my chest. I push at his shoulders and cry out in panic, tears of pain and fear streaming from the corners of my eyes to wet the hair at my temples.
Ronnie leans back, clamping his thighs around mine as he works the button and zipper of my jeans, opening them despite my thrashing. When he stills, so do I. I don’t know why he suddenly stopped, but I’m prepared to fight like a hellcat when he moves off my legs.
“Damn, what happened to you?” he asks, the sneer of disgust plainly visible on his shadowed face. The swift change takes me by surprise, but only for a second. Then it registers. I don’t have to ask what he means; I already know. My scars. “Lucky for you, you’re still hot enough to make this worth my while.”
I feel the grip of his thighs lessen ever so slightly. This is my chance. My muscles are tight with readiness. I’m going to kick out with all my might, aiming right for his balls, the instant I can get my legs free.
They loosen a bit more, and then suddenly I’m free. Aiming for his crotch, I squeeze my eyes shut and lash out with my feet as hard as I can. Strangely, they meet nothing but air.
Although I’m confused, I don’t waste valuable time wondering what happened or looking around for Ronnie. I roll quickly to one side and scramble to my feet, running wildly in the opposite direction of the cabana. I have no intention of stopping, maybe ever, until I hear a voice. A familiar voice. A voice that’s not Ronnie’s.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, you piece of shit?”