The girl furrowed her brows and turned around hastily. He was taller than her, evidently in his early fifties. One could tell he was a regular. Drunk. Bully. Typical broker. Something like that. Few men were standing behind him, surrounding her at the same time. His partners, she thought. The girl sighed. It wasn't going to be easy dealing with them, provided how drunk she was.
"I don't want anything to do with you, Mr.", the girl stared at the man, removing his hand from her waist, "Leave."
She knew he wouldn't. She could read him. His wicked, crooked smile gave that away.
The man wasn't 'supposed' to stop. That was the deal. Most importantly, the fragile weak powerless girl in front of him was much too alluring to just let go. So instead of stepping back, he pushed the girl against the bar counter and started grinding her body with his. Softly, at first. Vigorously, later.
