Pulling the stained white muscle tee back over his flexing muscular shoulders, the deep ink dragon tattoo he had on his bicep rippled as it reflected in the dim light. Standing up off the unmade bed, he pulled his torn and tattered jeans up around his waist before sliding the faded leather belt back into place. His five o' clock shadow hung along his jawline, greatly overgrown since the time was then one o' clock in the morning. His deep green eyes magnified their brilliance as they glanced past the bed and towards the far window. From the bed below, a body rustled beneath the blankets as it turned beneath the sheets. Holding the regulated hotel blankets to cover just past her exposed breasts, she leaned over in a chance to once again seduce the man who stood above her. Reaching up, she gently tugged at the hem of the man's shirt. Glaring over at her, his eyes were little more than slit slits; giving him the impression of an aggravated snake.

"Don't touch me." He growled coldly at her. Knowing he was not a force to be reckoned with, she snapped her hand back. Trying to keep what composure she possessed, she attempted to brush him off as if she could care less he was there. Sliding her fingers through her matted, tangled mud brown hair, she tried to fix herself up following the steamy sex they had just enjoyed.

"So," her voice was crackly and a few pitches too high. Wincing at the sound of it, the man took a step away from the bed to ensure he was not touched again. The woman, however, took his distance as an invite to get closer. Leaning further across the bed, she once again tried to seduce him. He looked down at her and found himself involuntarily cringing. Her hair was matted across her face; sweat painted her brow and some bits of hair stuck up in all directions. Mascara slid down the sides of her cheeks, making her look like a tragic clown. Blue eyeshadow was caked onto her eyelids. Even in the dim light, he could see the heavy make-up job she had dawned upon herself. Did she really find that made her any more attractive? "Baby, are we going to get together again?" He stifled a gag.

"Not likely." He wanted to say; but considering she was the daughter of one of his clients, he bore through it. Keeping his eyes focused on the far wall and the curtained window, he muttered a noncommital, "If I feel like it." Ignoring her, he turned and picked up his boots from near the room's desk before sitting at the end of the bed to put them on. Time was passing by quickly and he had a job to get to. If he was late and missed his chance, it was more than likely there would be a price on his head for justifiable revenge. Things in the underground worked much different than in the court of law.

There was another frequent rustling sound as the woman took advantage of his proximity and slid over to him. Tossing aside his warning from earlier, she traced her bony fingers along his muscular shoulder blades before lacing her anorexically thin arms around him. Cuddling close, her dismantled curls met with his cheek. Twitching, he instinctively pulled back but it was difficult to pull himself away from a woman who had a firm hold on him. The blankets fell way to expose her perky breasts to his bare arms. Nipples hardening in arousal, she broke away any distance between them to slide her tongue against his jawline and trace up to his earlobe.

"What are you doing?" His deep throat imminated a growl as he spoke.

"Just... trying to show my appreciation..." she gasped softly, pulling away and blowing gently into his ear. Twitching again, he shoved her aside and went back to lacing up his boots. She pouted as she watched him; her mahogany eyes making her look like a rejected mutt. Before he had finished putting on his shoes, she knew she had to try and stop him. Her body screamed to have him back inside her. All that power; adrenaline; strength... just thinking back on her recent memories began to turn her on. Placng her fingertips in her mouth, she slid her tongue slowly across them before enticingly tracing her fingers down her chest and over her stomach. She stared at the side of his head, hoping that the lower she went, the more attention she would receive from him. Yet even when she was well passed her navel, she didn't get so much as a passing glance. Frustrated and panicky that he would abandon her, she once more threw herself at him. To that, he reacted.

"What do you think you're doing, bitch?" He demanded.

"Don't go." She pleaded with him, struggling to hold on. "Don't leave me!"

"Whore, what did I tell you about touching me?" He snarled. His impatience running out, he stood up from the bed; yet she still clung on. Wrapping her arms securely around her waist, she outrightedly refused to let go.

"Don't leave me, Jake!" She continued to cry out. "I can make you feel good! You know I can!" She was well aware how pathetic and desperate she sounded; but she didn't care. Just as long as it kept him with her for another moment. Pulling at the clasp of his belt, she attempted to rip off his jeans and give him head in order to manipulate him into staying. Before she had time to fumble with the clasp, he raised his hand and slapped her across the face. She keeled back, shocked by his sudden outburst. Before she regained her composure, he had fixed his belt and swept across the room to his jacket that lay hanging on the back of the desk chair. Pulling the .35 out of his inside pocket, he removed the safety and pointed the weapon directly at her head. Cringing back, she grabbed the covers near her and wrapped them securely around her fragile body; as if they could act as bullet proof shields in her defense.

Stepping closer to her, each footstep echoing through the room with a resounding thunk, he continued to keep the barrel of the gun focused on her. Shaking like a cowardly animal beneath the sheets, her eyes stared terrified at the weapon.

"Don't you ever fucking touch me." He snarled.

"Yes..." She muttered, obeying. "I won't. I'm sorry." She was so scared, her voice was shaking. "I'm sorry."

"Bitch, do you hear me?" He demanded, his voice growing louder.

"I'm sorry!" She shouted back at him. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, polishing them over with another coat of mascara. "I won't touch you! I'm sorry! Please don't kill me!" Now standing over her, he pointed the gun straight down at his prey.

"I'll kill again just to piss you off." He sneered before pulling the trigger. She screamed and on reflex his head beaneath her arms. Though no bullet came out to attack her; he had replaced the safety before pulling the trigger. Laughing, he turned and left the room as his laughter echoed on after him.

The woman lay there shaking after another half hour. As it finally sunk in what had happened, she began to slowly calm down. Brushing off the blankets in caution, she came out of hiding and went to the front of the bed. Catching of a wif of the man's scent, she wondered if he would call her again for another round. After all, he had power; and adrenaline; and strength. Just thinking about it caused her to remember the recent memories and get turned on. Licking the tips of her fingers, she slowly traced her own body before sliding them into her vagina. After all: if she was never to touch him without him pulling out his piece, she could at least masturbate to the thought of him.