“Hey, darling. I was in the neighborhood and happened to stop by your place. Can I see you now?” Holly’s sultry voice spoke.
“Wow, you surprised me. Were you thinking of me?”
“Maybe. Perhaps I missed you.”
“I’ll let you in. I can offer you something to drink, but I need to be up early for work tomorrow.”
“Sure, sweetie.”
When I opened the door a minute later, I felt relieved to see Holly’s lithe and limber frame and her familiar blue eyes. “Well, will you let me in?” she asked. Her sweet face lit up when she grinned, revealing perfectly straight teeth. Holly was gorgeous, and she smelled sweet like delicious cherries.
I motioned for her to step into my apartment. “Would you like some tea or coffee?” I asked.
“No, just some water will be fine.”
After getting a glass of water from the open-plan kitchen, I sat down on the sofa next to her, gazing into her Marilyn Monroe eyes. I leaned toward the coffee table to put her glass on the surface. When she sipped her drink, Holly inched closer and stroked my hair.
“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, planting passionate kisses along my jawline as her hand slipped between my legs.
“The things you do to me,” I moaned, exploring the sweetness of her lips as I felt her nimble fingers massage my moist sex. There was something special about being with a woman. It was a sensual kind of magic, so tender and delicious that no man could replicate.
Unlike Alistair’s kisses, which were rougher and more demanding, Holly’s kisses were smooth and soft. Her velvety lips were edible, tasting like cherry delight. Hungry for her, I lifted her blouse and licked the small, pink tips of her breasts.
“You’re turning me on,” she murmured, her nipples stiffening.
“Do you want to stay the night?” I asked.
Her eyes glazed in a dreamlike trance. I leaned into that look, too caught up to notice anything else until a sting bit into my arm. Quick, sharp. Like a vicious mosquito bite.
“Ouch,” I gasped, flinching at the sudden sting. My eyes darted down. Holly slid a syringe from my arm.
“The pain will go away,” she murmured, almost soothing.
Ice shot through my veins. “What did you do to me?” My tongue felt thick, words slurring even as panic clawed at my chest.
“Nothing permanent. Just a little sleep.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “You’ll wake up later. Don’t worry—I’m not going to kill you.”
The room tilted. My muscles sagged, heavy and unresponsive. I blinked hard, fighting the blur, but shapes dissolved around me. Through the haze, I caught Holly opening my door, waving in a broad-shouldered man who moved with grim purpose.
“Take her,” she ordered.
Strong arms scooped me up like cargo. My head lolled against his chest, my lungs begging for air that wouldn’t come fast enough. I tried to scream, but no sound broke free—my voice drowned in the drug’s tide.
Darkness dragged me under, cold and merciless.
Letting Holly into my apartment hadn’t just been a mistake. It was the end of control, the start of whatever nightmare waited beyond that door.
A TEMPEST OF ALL STORMS
Vera
The past few days were a blur of shadows, voices, and cramping pain compensated with drugs. I woke up in a light-blue gown on a hospital bed on the first day after my assault. I call it an assault because what happened to me was an act of physical harm.
“Where am I? What have you done to me?” I croaked, seeing Holly’s figure. My throat felt dry and sore from dehydration.
“I’ve just taken the intravenous drip off you,” she said. “You’re fine. You’re safe.”
I was nauseous from the smell of sweet cherries that lingered in the air when she left the room. I was too intoxicated to respond with anything coherent. All the strength had left my drugged and tampered body.
