Off Limits ✔

8. Icy Hot Print

Once I finished freshening up, I headed to the bar to order a bottle of water. I needed to sober up and get the hell out of here.

The bar was even busier than the time we arrived at this club. It took skills to squeeze in until I could reach the counter. An electric blue LED light on the bar wall hit my eyes, sending a sudden stinging pain in my skull. I leaned forward, one elbow pressing on the counter to hold my weight, and massaged my temple with my other hand.

"It must be a museum because you truly are a work of art," a rough voice slurred in my ear, followed by a strong liquor smell invading my nostrils.

I shifted away and gave him a death glare. "Please, your pickup line sucks."

Ignoring my attempt to keep our distance, he scooted closer. "Oh, I can definitely suck something else you will enjoy."

"No, thank you," I replied, my eyes on the bartender, hoping he would notice me sooner than later.

"I know you are up for something fun, too," he went on as he slid his hand around my waist, resting his palm on the side of my rib, right under my breast. "Why don't we go find somewhere private and get to know each other, sexy?"

I slapped his hand and took a few steps away, but there was barely space to move about. "Do not touch me, please."

He sneered as his eyes shamelessly roamed over my body and lingered on my cleavage before looking at my eyes again. "Oh, come on, no need to act like a prude. Why else would you wear that dress? Such a cocktease." He leaned in my ear and his hand crept up on my bottom. "Tell me, girl, is your pussy nice and wet and ready now?"

That was it. This dude knew no boundaries. Despite the bar's blue LED light, all I saw was red from my boiling anger and stinging migraine. My shaking fingers curled into a fist as my rational mind left my brain. Before I knew it, my hands clutched his collars and my knee landed on his crotch, earning a loud groan from him.

"Fuck!"

People in our surroundings turned their attention to us, surprised and confused by the commotion.

Breathing heavily to contain the surge of adrenaline in my veins, I forced myself to stand still and kept my eyes on the person I just attacked. He might have been drunk and off balance, but he was still a man with a well-built posture. It took only one punch from his big hand, and my teeth might leave my gum forever.

"What the hell! You're fucking psycho!" the man yelled, cupping his balls. He then looked at our spectators. "Did you see that? She just kicked my balls for no reason. She's crazy! Someone, please call the police!"

I dropped my jaw. "What?" I took a step forward and pointed my finger at his face. "You're the one who assaulted me first! You're a piece of shit!"

"Look! She's about to attack me again. Someone grab her!"

A firm hand pulled me by the waist until my back hit the hard surface behind me. I was ready to elbow the person behind me, but his familiar voice in my ear stopped me. "Easy, Jennifer. We don't want to end up in a police station tonight," Mr. Andrew said.

As much as I wanted to protest, he had his point. No one saw the perverted dude sexually assault me earlier. And who would take the words of a drunk girl seriously? I needed to step back.

Mr. Andrew stood between me and the man. "You want me to call the police? I can do that. But remember, the club's camera footage will speak the truth. So, you need to be sure she doesn't have anything to use against you."

The man's eye bulged as he scanned our surroundings, probably looking for the camera. Mr. Andrew pulled his phone out of his pocket when he said, "No. Wait." He shook his head. "No need to call the police. It was a misunderstanding."