Chapter 8: The Motorcycle man"No - !" Prisley gasped, Heather seemed so unfamiliar, so out of control, so far from the wise and calm man she knew.She was pinned against the desk, the door unlocked. It was the weekend, but what if someone came in? Prisley couldn't bear to think any more."Stop it, Heather, please," she begged tearfully, but Heather's icy demeanor remained as he continued unbuttoning her.Desperation and humiliation washed over Prisley. She closed her eyes tightly, gathered every ounce of energy she could, and seized the opportunity when Heather least expected it.She pushed him away and slapped him hard across the face. There was a resounding thud and Heather froze, the chill emanating from him increasing in intensity.Taking advantage of his shock, Prisley slipped out from under him and rushed toward the door.She ran out into the hallway, disoriented and frantic, her clothes disheveled, her hair wild.She was terrified, tears streaming uncontrollably from her eyes.
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