“Yeah, the magnolia tree. You best be getting yourself inside.” With a wave of his hand, he gestured toward my home. “I’m glad I finally got to meet you, neighbor.” He smiled again, put his hood up, and walked the other way until the thick snowfall obscured him from view.
When I reached my house, my fingers were too numb to open the door at first. I fumbled with the ring of keys until I finally unlocked it and slipped inside, shivering as the heat embraced me. The snow began to melt on my jacket as I shrugged it off, and I brushed my hand through my hair before hanging up my scarf. The walls creakedfrom the cold. Evenings in the winter always seemed to be darker and gloomier, as if heavy with desolation, but it was always extra eerie on those late nights.
After making my way to the kitchen, I thumbed through old takeout and leftovers. I settled for Thai from...probably not that long ago. I smelled it as I opened the container before placing it into the microwave. Hints of cinnamon, peppers, and cumin tried to mask the slightly off undertones of old food, but that didn’t deter me. Heating it up would nuke any bacteria. The sound of the microwave’s closing door echoed through the silence filling the house.
As I started the microwave, a familiar odor wafted over me. Not Thai food, but a sweet, musky scent with a bit of a floral note weaving through it. I followed it until I reached my bedroom, where the smell was strongest.
“Why do I keep smelling that?” I asked myself. It wasn’t the first time the mystery scent had grabbed my attention in my house.
The microwave beeped and the smell of reheated food overpowered the odd perfume I’d been chasing. I returned to the kitchen, pulled the questionable takeout from the microwave, and tasted it. An acrid snap of flavor at the end of the bite told me it was definitely off. I curled my lip and tossed the rest into the garbage.
“Fuck it,” I groaned. I’d just have to eat tomorrow.
I went back to the bedroom to change out of my work clothes, but my zipper got stuck as I tried to unzip my dress. I contorted my body in ways I never knew I could, but I couldn’t reach the damn thing. I tried to lift thedress over my head and got it to my hips before it snagged. “Damn baby-bearing hips,” I muttered. Well, now what? Cut the damn thing? I grabbed a pair of vanity scissors off the dresser and brought it up to the strap of the dress.
“Don’t cut it,” said a voice behind me. “That’s my favorite dress you wear.”
I jumped, frozen with fear as I recognized that voice. It was the man from outside.
My heart thumped against my chest as his footsteps drew closer. Before I knew what was happening, his hot breath landed on my shoulder and melted the ice in my veins. I looked at the open bedroom door and bolted for it. My heartbeat urged me on with its galloping beat, and my fingers stretched in front of me, desperate to reach the knob. As my skin met with the metal, he grabbed me around the waist and effortlessly pulled me backward in a tight grip. I screamed and tried to hit him, flailing my hands and throwing my body backward against his broad chest.
“Stop, Zoey, I’m trying to help you,” he said through clenched teeth. How did he know my name?
“Please let me go,” I pleaded.
“I will if you don’t run.” I got a whiff of his cologne. A floral, musky scent that had been drifting in and out of my house for a while.
The fuck? “Who the hell are you?” I screamed as he put me down and slowly released his hold in case I tried to run again.
“I’m Anthony.”
“Why the hell are you in my house? Have youbeen...stalking me?” I grabbed the scissors and took a step back.
“Not stalking you, but I’ve been watching you,” he said with a shrug, like that was completely normal fucking behavior.
“Since when?”
“We met at a bar. Well, we didn’t reallymeet,but I saw you at a bar. You’re so beautiful, Zoey.” His bright eyes softened and his jaw relaxed. “Just perfection.”
“You need to leave!” I raised the hand gripping the scissors, preparing myself to thrust them into him if he came a step closer.
“Or what?” He rushed forward, grabbed my wrist, and wrenched the scissors from me before tossing them across the room. “That’s better,” he said as he pressed his body into me. His hand wrapped around my waist and gripped the zipper on the back of my dress. He eased it down, allowing the fabric to spread and expose my back. His hand grazed my spine, sending goosebumps rising along my skin.
“Fuck you,” I hissed. I balled my free hand into a fist.
“Oh no, it is not I who will be getting fucked.” His smile twisted into a sadistic grin. He turned me around and shoved me against the dresser, knocking the wind out of me as the aged wood creaked beneath my weight. “Don’t think I didn’t see your fist. If you hit me, I can’t guarantee both of us will leave this house alive, but if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you choose if you’re breathing or not when I fuck you.” He kept his voice even as he spoke, and he ran his hand down my back once more. “Your skin is so soft.” He panted against the nape of my neck. Hiswords made me shiver and his touch made my goosebumps spread.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I screamed as he pressed his weight into me, pinning me against the dresser.
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with me. I’m in love. There’s nothing wrong with that,” he said with a groan as he grabbed the straps of my dress and pulled them off my shoulders. He sniffed my skin with a sultry moan, like he’d been imagining doing just that for too long. “Be a good girl and take the dress off your arms.”
I hesitated and he leaned into me more. I pulled the straps off and the top of my dress fell. His cock hardened and pressed against my ass.
“Please . . .”
He reached over and pulled my hair across my back and over my shoulder. He grabbed my chin roughly, letting his hand drop to my throat. “No sense in begging. I’m going to take what I’ve wanted for months.”
I had to think of something. I had to stop him from assaulting me. Maybe if I played his game, he’d back up enough to give me a chance to escape.
