Free Heller's Girlfriend by J.D. Nixon

the altercation
and the close contact. Ugh! My sympathy for Patricia only
grew if this was how the man she married liked to get his rocks
off. I wondered briefly what she’d been through with him.
    I hissed in his ear. “That was a
really stupid move. Threatening your soon-to-be ex-wife in front of
her lawyer – a woman who crushes men’s nuts with her teeth. You are
a stupid man, aren’t you?”
    He struggled furiously, trying
to push me off him. I compressed down harder on his throat with my
forearm until he moaned with pain.
    “You’re a stupid man, aren’t
you?” I whispered viciously again.
    He unexpectedly responded, not
by agreeing with me, which was what I’d obviously wanted, but by
latching his hands onto my boobs, squeezing them mercilessly. I
couldn’t afford to miss a beat though, not willing to give him an
inch of leeway. If I didn’t instruct him about the rules of play
now, the rest of my time on this job was going to be a nightmare.
He would believe he could behave however he wished and treat
Patricia with as much disrespect as possible. So, despite the
revolting feel of his hands on my body and the pain he was causing,
I didn’t flinch. Instead, I bestowed an equal amount of tender
loving care on him by brutally kneeing him in the balls.
    He whimpered, tears flooding his
eyes. He released my boobs. I still had my arm across his neck and
I pushed down even harder until he gagged.
    “Don’t you ever touch me
again. You understand, you dumb prick?” He nodded, hatred burning
in his eyes. “Now you will apologise to Patricia and the mediator
for your bad manners. Understand? Yes?”
    He nodded, not able to
articulate anything except a choking noise.
    I took my arm away, glared at
him with disgust and calmly resumed my seat next to a trembling
Patricia. My stomach roiled, and I gulped in a few deep breaths and
swallowed hard a few times to keep the bile down. My boobs ached
and I wouldn’t be surprised to find finger-sized bruises on them
this evening.
    Warburton brushed himself down,
rubbed his throat, and tried to assume some dignity.
    “Patricia, Mediator, I apologise
for my behaviour,” he said, turning from his tremulous wife to the
anxious man poking his head around the negotiation room doorway
again.
    That done, no matter how
insincerely, all parties proceeded to troop into the room,
Warburton cutting me a dirty look as he did. I gave him the mental
finger. The scathing glance he threw back made me think he was
telepathic.
    I didn’t hold out much hope for
a positive outcome for anyone today.
     

Chapter 6
     
    I sat in the waiting room for
the rest of the day, yawning quietly to myself. Security work could
be so butt-numbingly dull sometimes. My only diversion was a brief
break for lunch, which Patricia, Corella and I took out in the
sunshine in a park across the road. Patricia was very quiet and
subdued, barely even nibbling on her sandwich. Corella spent the
entire time divided between gobbling her food, shouting into her
mobile and snapping out orders about the afternoon session to
Patricia.
    When they reconvened, I passed
the time unsuccessfully trying not to think about that scene
with Heller the other night. I wished I’d handled it all better,
but there was something about sleeping with him that just –
    I didn’t get to finish
articulating that critically important point to myself when the
doors to the negotiation room were flung back angrily, and Gary
stormed out, his lawyer hot on his heels. I jumped to my feet,
bracing myself for more action, heart pounding. But he only glared
at me, muttering, “Fucking bitch,” before leaving, and I wasn’t
sure if he meant me, Corella or Patricia, or maybe all three of us,
cursed generically. Gerry chased after him begging him to be more
temperate in future meetings.
    I smiled to myself. Obviously,
things didn’t go the bastard’s way.
    Patricia and her lawyer came out
next, Corella looking extremely pleased with the outcome.