AN: Yes, a one shot. Gonna try my hand at it and see what kind of responses I'll get for it. Here goes…
She knew she shouldn't be walking these lonely dark streets at such ungodly hours but her job as a bartender required it and besides she was a strong, capable woman with pepper-spray in her bag and long sharp fingernails at ready use.
Her heels clicked too loudly for her ears, the sound ricocheting off of dark walls and vacant buildings. Her eyes made involuntary, nervous swings from left to right, an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was wrong. But she made a special effort to ignore the feeling and increased her pace, her hair lifting off of her shoulders, to whip gently back in the cool breeze.
She grabbed her purse tighter, walking faster and faster. She heard something tumble to the floor with a loud crash which made her jump about two feet in the air (though unrealistic as it may sound). She was greatly relieved when she heard a pitiful 'meow' and saw something orange sprint away from the direction of the crash.
As she walked on, she cursed herself for being so jumpy and found the present agitation quite absurd as she usually ambled along these streets every Tuesday's, Thursday's and Saturday's and nothing had ever happened to her and today shouldn't be any different. She was in the midst of berating herself when she distinctly heard footsteps.
She contemplated if she should turn and see who was behind her or break out in a run in which her life depended on it. Curiosity got the better of her and with a quick spin of her head, she saw a dark male figure not too far behind her.
I'll be in the light before he catches me. If he's after me.
She began to walk even faster, trying to squelch the fear rising when she heard that the man's footsteps were also speeding up. She rounded a corner of a building at such a speedy pace that she grazed her arm against it. Something fell in her when she realized that this street was also dark, and though it was the last dark street before she met the lighted ones, she realized she'd have to make a run for it.
She began at a little jog, regretting she'd worn heels. She couldn't contain the fear anymore when she looked back and saw that the man was running towards her. With a frightened squeak, she changed from jogging to all out, break neck running, ignoring the pain in the sole of her feet with each impact the heel of the shoe came with the ground.
Oh somebody help me! I'm being chased by a madman!
Why was this happening? She wasn't ready to die yet, she was too young!
While she ran, she fumbled with her bag to get her pepper-spray. This slowed her down immensely. Though she tried to regain her distance between them as soon as she'd located the little, blue, cylindrical can, her efforts proved futile when she felt a hand tug hard on her shirt and heard an agonizing, ripping sound.
She screamed and flailed her arms in a wild attempt to fend off her attacker whilst she prepared the pepper-spray for spraying. She uncapped the little red cap and was about to squeeze the stinging contents into the man's face when he knocked it out of her hand while he managed to grab the other hand and bring her up against him.
She screamed again and launched kicks in the area where she know 'it hurts'. He jumped backwards while still holding on to her hand then slammed her against a nearby wall. Her breath was immediately knocked out of her and the fight in her was temporarily ceased. And in that moment, she realized she'd lost.
He had both of her hands now. He brought them up over her head and pressed his body against her to prevent any foot movements. She looked up at her captor, noting his dark sunglasses and his brown cap; his smile was confident and victorious. He wore a casual brown shirt and baggy black jeans and brown Timberlands.
On different occasions, she'd thought him perfect eye-candy, she along with her other female co-workers.
"Why are you doing this?" she rasped, her voice hoarse from screaming.
"I've been watching you for a long time, Beverly," he began, smiling down at her. "Always thought you were beautiful. Always wanted to tell you that," to deepen his point, he caressed her cheek. Beverly, shifted her face out of his hand.
"Don't touch me," she snapped.
"Hard to that," he gave her a sad smile. "I love you, Beverly,"
"Infatuation and love are two completely different things," Beverly glared at the man before her. "Just let me go and I won't press charges for sexual harassment,"
"I haven't sexually harassed you, Beverly," he smiled a slow, sexy smile at her. "This is sexual harassment," and he bent his head and kissed her hard, his lips rough against her soft ones. She began to struggle again, trying to twist her head away from his kiss but he forced her some more against the wall, preventing any escape. He only released her lips to come up for air.
"I hate you," she said as simply as if she'd just commented on the weather.
"You love me," the sad smile again. "I love you," he cupped her left breast and fondled it, eliciting a sharp gasp and look of horrified shock from Beverly. He pinched the hardened nipple and smiled in satisfaction when her body involuntarily arched forward. Beverly closed her eyes, accepting her fate that this was what was going to happen to her. She was going to be taken advantage of in the middle of the street with no-one to hear her.
He bent his head again and nipped at her neck. "So how'd you like this one?"
Beverly laughed, bringing up his face to meet hers in a crushing kiss. "My gosh, Gavin! Your imagination does not cease!"
"Not when it includes you, sweetheart,"
"So this next fantasy of raping me in broad nightlight was cooked up when?" she smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling in mischief.
"When you left the bar and didn't tell me 'goodnight'," he grinned down at her then caught her earlobe between his teeth while he continued to explore 'other parts' with his traveling hands.
"Please," she rolled her eyes, knocking his hands away.
"Let's go home," he said pulling away from her. "We need some rest,"
"Right," she smiled, clasping her hands with his as they walked away. "Resting by rolling and fooling around in the bed. Got it, darling,"
He winked at her. "You know me so well."
Yah, I attempted a twist. Key word being 'attempted' people.
So what do you think? Are you grinning, eager to click that review button? Smiling, contemplating whether you should drop a lil comment? Bored, about to move on to a more time-worthy story? Holding your nose as you hurriedly close the window because you smelt something very offensive (points to story)???
But whatever it is…leave a lil review for meh!