You're late again, you stupid slut," her stepfather growled, his calloused fingers already digging into the soft flesh of Geena's thigh as she tried—and failed—to sidestep him in the narrow hallway, her skirt riding up with each panicked shuffle. "I-I was just—" she stammered, the lie dying on her tongue when his other hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back hard enough to make her gasp. "Save it," he spat, his breath hot against her ear as the first button of her flimsy top popped under his grip. "You love this, don't you? Always dressed like a fucking whore begging for it." Her pulse throbbed where his teeth grazed her neck, and she hated how wet she already was.