Justin stepped around her and eyed her with a grin that made her shudder. She wore the sort of outfit she always wore to work - a shirt and pencil skirt - but as he looked over her with his lips turned up at one corner, she felt as if she were naked. “What’s the meaning of this?” she demanded as the bouncer dragged her over into a dark corner of the club. She struggled briefly but she was no match for the strong man, whose thick arms were probably about the same width as her waist. “Yer uncle has a job for you,” Justin drawled out in his east London accent. “Well, I’m sure he could have told me that.” She wriggled again. “Dammit, let me go, you bloody perv.” Justin laughed at this and reached forwards, tracing a finger over her cheek and down into the ‘v’ of her shirt. Holly kicked out at him but the huge bouncer tugged on her arms and she bit down on her lip as the movement wrenched her shoulders. “Justin, just tell me what you want,” she said with a sigh. “It’s a special job.
