"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. And the door was 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 was still unbuttoning her.
Desperation and humiliation washed over Prisley. She closed her eyes tightly, gathered every ounce of energy she could, and pushed Heather away when he least expected it.
With a loud smack, a slap landed on his face. Heather froze. The chill emanated from him accumulating.
Prisley slipped out from under him and rushed toward the door.
She ran out into the hallway, disoriented and frantic. Her clothes disheveled, and her hair wild.
