“You’re too hot to be cleaning my vomit,” he said provocatively.

I watched his fingers wrap around my wrist and took a deep breath, trying to stay in control:

“I… would like you to let me go, sir. I need to clean as quickly as possible—I have other rooms to organize.”

He pulled me hard, pressing me against his body. When he opened his mouth to speak, the alcohol smell hit my nostrils directly and I couldn’t hold it. Then the vomit came without asking permission, erupting from ...