The Writing on the Wall (closed for Gr8chtr)

Suddenly he was like a caged beast finally released. It was more like a growl as the words seemed to snarl from his lips and she felt her heart race, almost afraid of what he might do.

Oh, yeah. Watch this!

There was no time to prepare herself as his right arm suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and pull her to him. It was more like an assault than a kiss, his lips crushing hers as his tongue demanded entrance to her mouth. What surprised her even more was that she allowed him in. Had she been asked later as to why she did, she would not have been able to answer.

But she did. She opened her mouth and suddenly his tongue was fighting with hers, looking for dominance. She leaned into him as her arms suddenly were free and and she was pulling him to her instead of away. It was as if she could not get enough of him, her hands around him as if a lover. But a wild, crazed lover. The room whirled around her and her senses were filled with the smell of paint and him.

Bradford had experienced hard driving sex. In fact, he had done so just last night with Aimee. But, he had never experienced anything like this. Although it was very erotic for him, they were acting as much as fighters than as lovers. Their tongues in each others mouths weren't doing a hot dance, they were engaged in battle.

He wanted Kayla for whatever reason and whatever this crazy thing was, and it was pretty clear to him that she wanted him just as much. He unwrapped his arm from around her neck, slid his hands to her shoulders, and pushed her back away from him at half an arms length. In a quick move he grabbed both sides of her faded tee shirt at the waist and yanked it up over her head, then savagely pulled it off of her.

He had no opposition to Kayla undressing him as well, but he was determined to be in the lead. But, he made a tactical error. Instead of enveloping her with his strong arms once her tee shirt was off, thereby decreasing her ability to undress him, he couldn't resist one more taunt.

Through his panting breath and with a sarcastic tone he said, "I'm going to really enjoy fucking you, Kayla, both right here and now, and when I crush you in the mural competition."

It wasn't that he had kissed her, though the kiss that he had given her was more passionate than any kiss that she had ever received. And it wasn't because she had kissed him back. She had had her fair share of kissing toads in this fairytale world of art. It wasn't even that he had pulled her tee shirt off over her head so that she stood there with just a bra covering her heaving breast. It was those final 9 words that passed between his lips and the satisfied sneer that accompanied them.

...and when I crush you in the mural competition.

It was like throwing cold water on her. For a brief instance, she stopped, pulling back like she had been slapped in the face. For the second time that day, a slap rang out in Bradford's studio and the look of surprise on his face was priceless as she slapped the same cheek that she had slapped earlier.

Bending over, she picked up her tee off the floor and angrily pulled it on over her head.

"Next time you want to know just what an arrogant little no talent prick that I think that you are, just ask me instead of running around behind my back to ask others what I've said. I'll be more than glad to tell you what a pretentious piece of shit I think you are."

Grabbing her purse, she headed down the stairs leaving a surprised Bradford listening to the sound of the door to the street being slammed on her way out.

In the car, her hands shook as she sat there trying to calm down her racing heart. What the hell had she almost done? She had been swept away by emotions and it took her a full five minutes to pull herself together and start the car. It didn't help that she almost hit a motorcycle as she backed out. Taking a deep breath, she drove home. It never occurred to her that the weasel might could see where she parked from his studio window.

The second slap was a surprise. Unlike the first one, Bradford didn't see this one coming. And it hurt, more than the first, given that his cheek was already inflamed. But, he was stunned more than he was hurt physically. Just a moment ago they had been kissing each other savagely. She offered no opposition to his pulling off her tee. It was pretty obvious, or so he thought, where this was all going.

Logically or not, Kayla's outburst angered him even more. She called him arrogant? Was she now playing the injured woman role, when she had practically assaulted his tongue with hers?

From his window, he watched her get in her car. Strangely she sat there for what must have been nearly five minutes. Was she considering coming back? Then he saw her drive away, but clearly upset; she nearly backed into a motorcycle.

A couple of years after she moved to Dallas Kayla started hosting an annual "Meet the New Young Artists" at her house which was adjacent to her studio. Bradford went the first time, but as his animosity toward her grew, he stopped attending. But, as the result of her event, he knew where she lived.

Of course she could be going anywhere, but the best guess was that she was going home. Bradford nearly lept down the stairs, jumped on his motorcycle - the one that she nearly hit - and sped to her house, capitalizing on his in-depth knowledge of the city's streets and alleyways. He arrived so soon after she, that Kayla had not even closed and latched the door yet.

He pounced. Charging into Kayla's house nearly literally on her heels, he grabbed he by the shoulder and spun her around to face him. Just as she had done at his house he advanced until they were almost toe-to-toe. With his voice returning to the angry growl that he had used earlier, he said, "OK, shithead, I don't really give a fuck what you think of me. But, at least be honest with me and with yourself. You kissed me back every bit as hard as I kissed you, and you didn't object at all when I tore off your tee. So, Miss High and Mighty, you were as much a part of that erotic fight, if that's what it was, as I was."

She was still shaking by the time that she drove into her driveway. Just what was it that he had done that upset her so much? Mentioned the competition? She was tired of feeling like the outsider here. Every time that she had tried to get along with the artist community, Bradford would raise his ugly head to remind her that she didn't belong here. That his family had been here in Dallas since the covered wagon days. According to him, they practically invented Dallas. It was probably a picture of his family that he wanted to paint for the mural.

She got out of the car and walked up to her front door, unlocking it. She wasn't aware of the sound of the motorcycle meaning that she had company. She pushed the door open, she stepped into the foyer and was suddenly grabbed from behind and spun around to find herself face to face with Bradford as he rushed her backwards across the room. His nose was just inches from her nose and the anger was clear in his eyes and his voice. She wasn't sure if it was from being slapped or from his advances being rebuffed. Probably a little of both.

OK, shithead, I don't really give a fuck what you think of me. But, at least be honest with me and with yourself. You kissed me back every bit as hard as I kissed you, and you didn't object at all when I tore off your tee. So, Miss High and Mighty, you were as much a part of that erotic fight, if that's what it was, as I was.

She heard her front door finally close somewhere in the middle of his speech. And he was right. She had kissed him back just as hard as he had kissed her. And she hadn't been opposed to him ripping off her tee.

For a moment he stood there in her face both of them panting though she was as not sure if they were out of breath for the same reason.

She really was not sure why she did it but the next moment, she was kissing him. With both hands clutching his hair, it was she this time that was kissing him. She initiated it and there seemed to be no complaints from him though she was somewhat afraid that he might slap her just to get even.

Just to make things even, she shoved him back and grabbed the sides of his black tee and pulled it up over his head and threw it down on the floor.

"Now, are we even?"

Bradford had acted so impulsively when he raced to Kayla's house that he did not have any time to anticipate what he would do when he confronted her or how she might respond. A third slap to his face would not have surprised him. But her resuming their erotic encounter didn't surprise him either.

In a flash they were at it again, their tongues battling for supremacy. Oddly, he felt less hostile now, but his mood took on the angry tinge associated with confronting one's arch rival. Under such conditions almost anything could happen.

Now, are we even?

He actually welcomed Kayla's move. It made him both hotter and inflamed his competitive spirit. "Yes," he said with only cold determination, "we are now even. Now the question is: Who will come out on top?"

With a quick move Bradford wrapped his arms around her smacking them again chest-to-chest. Replicating both his earlier move and the one she just made, he grabbed her tee by the sides and yanked it up over her head. But, he didn't repeat his earlier tactical error. This time he engulfed her again as soon as her tee was free and tossed to the floor. Reaching around her he swiftly grabbed her bra strap and ripped the fastening free, leaving it open to fall off once their bodies separated enough.

The contest had only begun; there was much more to come.

Yes, we are now even. Now the question is: Who will come out on top?

Before she had a chance to answer, or even do anything, his arms were tight bands around her drawing her close against him. Then once again, he ripped her tee up over her head and then unhooked her bra. She felt it loosen between them. This time, he had apparently learned from his previous mistake and kept his mouth shut, save for the sounds of the heavy breathing and kissing between the two.

"How the fuck can you be such an ass?" She managed to gasp out between kisses. She couldn't stand the man, so why the hell was she standing here with her bare breast against his bare chest, and both of them kissing like there was no tomorrow.

With both of his arms around her, her arms were effectively trapped to her sides. Apparently the man didn't want to give her the chance to slap him again. But something about him had flipped a switch and though the contest of wills was on in her living room, he was more aggressive than she and slowly she found herself backed up until she was pressed up against the wall, wedged between Bradford and the cold drywall.

Kayla pressed against the wall was just how Bradford wanted it; he was "on top" at least for the moment. He could hardly believe that she had given up the fight for the upper hand so easily. Or, had she?

He unwrapped his arms from around her and pulled back just far enough to quickly unbutton her jeans, unzip them, and pull them off over her hips letting them fall to the floor where she could easily kick off her shoes and step out of her jeans.

Bradford backed up just a bit further, risking yet another slap to his face. Using a taunt like those often used between strong competitors in some kind of match, between his heavy breathing he managed to say:

"So, Kayla, are you woman enough to keep this up?"

Pulling back, Bradford unzipped her jeans and pulled them down. With her jeans bunched around her ankles, all she was now wearing was her panties, and her shoes. Feeling like a half plucked turkey, she stood before him, wedged between Bradford and the wall.

So, Kayla, are you woman enough to keep this up?

She was mad. The King of the Assholes was Braddie. Stepping out of her shoes and jeans at the same time and wearing just her panties, she grabbed hold of Bradford's jeans with both hands. With her fingers tucked between his skin and his jeans, she had a strong grip on him, and had he been wearing anything other than jeans, the material would have torn to shreds or ripped at the seam with what she was getting ready to do.

With all her strength and with the element of surprise on her side, she slung him around to her left so that he slammed against the wall and she now had him pinned. In one felled swoop, she unbuttoned and unzipped the fly on his jeans. When she grabbed hold again, she gave a good yank and pulled down his jeans AND his briefs. His cock was quickly rising to the occasion, and looking down at to, she gave a short, sharp laugh before answering snidely.

"Oh, Braddie, I'm more woman than you could EVER handle!"

Bradford was caught off-guard. He had anticipated that she might return the favor of ripping off his jeans; in fact, he welcomed it. He had not anticipated that she would swing him around and pin him against the wall.

Oh, Braddie, I'm more woman than you could EVER handle! How she had ever guessed that his childhood nickname had been "Braddie", he would never know. Only his mother used that diminutive moniker once he was out of high school. He never shared that awful, childish name with any of the artists in Dallas. He hated it! He didn't think he could be in a more angry or aggressive mood, but Kayla's calling him "Braddie" pushed his emotions even higher.

Stepping out of his own jeans and shoes while he resumed their relentless, competitive kissing and with his now nearly entirely erect cock pressed against her thong, he gave Kayla a shove to open up enough space between them to allow him to rip off her thong. They were now both completely naked and both hot as steam.

He counted on her resisting his shove, and she did, thus slamming them back against each other frontally. This time it was her tactical error. With Kayla clamped tightly against him, he did a quick knee bend, sliding both of his hands down to the top of her thighs just below her beautiful ass. Straightening out his legs quickly and holding her thighs with all of his strength he picked her up completely off the floor.

From the position that she had put him in against the wall it was now a shot straight forward from him to her bedroom. Taking quick, large steps he carried them, clamped together as they were, into her bedroom and threw them down, with him on top, on her bed, which, conveniently, she had not bothered to make up before leaving for the morning.

With an equally snide tone as she had used with him he said, "Oh, little Kaylie, you're not even half the woman I had last night. You're about to find out what it feels like to be fucked by a REAL man." He paused briefly recovering enough breath to add, "And, gee, look who's on top!"

Once Bradford had managed to get her completely nude, she fought back. She would never have expected him to do what he did next. Hell, she didn't think that he was able to pick up anything heavier than a tube of cerulean blue but suddenly she was being carried by him as he seemed to march purposefully through her house. Bare skin against bare skin. It felt incredibly hot in her house despite the lack of clothes. With his hands gripping her thighs just below her ass, she was in essence straddling his body.

But what was even more disturbing was that his cock, which was very prominently pointing the way to her bedroom, was occasionally rubbing against her labia. What was even worse was that her body seemed to like it, evidenced by the wetness that was seeping from her to coat the top of the man's cock. She tried squirming out of his arms, but that only made everything worse.

They hit the bed with an OUF with Braddie on top of her. The combination of the fall on the bed and his weight on top of her momentarily knocked the wind from her sails. But she was still mad.

Oh, little Kaylie, you're not even half the woman I had last night. You're about to find out what it feels like to be fucked by a REAL man.

Before she could speak, he added, And, gee, look who's on top!

"Ha! From the looks of her, she must have been hard up to be fucked by anything in pants. That BARELY includes you! And I bet that afterwards, you probably pulled out of her long enough to mumble some obligatory 'thanks babe' before you rolled over and fell asleep snoring. She probably felt the needs to take a shower to remove the stench of you from her body. I know what a REAL man is like in bed and you can't begin to touch his shoes." She could see the anger growing. But she couldn't leave well enough alone. She tried to shove him but she didn't have the strength. She would get him another way.

"And you may be on top now, but it will make it all the more painful when you fall!"

Kayla's taunts fell on deaf ears. Bradford's mind was filled with both anger and lust; lust was winning. Right now all he wanted to do was to fuck her brains out, and the growing stream of her moisture covering his cock indicated to him that she was feeling the same way, regardless of what she was saying.

He had anticipated that she might try to roll them over and assume the top position. He wouldn't have minded; last summer he and Aimee had had a delightful erotic wrestling match, followed by mind-blowing sex. But, this was OK too.

Grasping his now rock-hard cock with one hand and still pinning her with his weight he slid smoothly into her pussy, burying his cock into her the full length. He was anxious to start fucking her hard, but he couldn't resist one more snide comment.

Pulling himself up on his elbows, thereby releasing his weight from her and allowing her greater freedom of movement, he said, "OK, Kayla, before I fuck your brains out let's see if you have anything to offer at all." Before she could speak he slammed his mouth on hers thrusting his tongue inside, while with his free hand he grabbed her left breast squeezing it savagely as he worked his fingers up to find her engorged nipple.

With a smug grin, he easily found her wet sex and slid his cock deep into her, and she felt him fill her up completely. As she gave a small gasp, he stopped and raised himself up to look down on her, he taunted her.

OK, Kayla, before I fuck your brains out let's see if you have anything to offer at all.

She tried to speak but suddenly his mouth was on hers, his tongue filling her mouth. His hand was on her breast as his fingers began to maul the needy nipple.

She wanted to answer him, to taunt him but he prevented her. So she did the only thing that she could. She threw both legs around him and pulled him down into her. She was tempted to bite his tongue but he was in a position to hurt her just as bad. Instead, she grabbed a handful of his hair in each hand and pulled his head up.

"I should have known that this would be your best, Braddie."

Bradford gasped when Kayla threw her legs around him and pulled him even deeper into her. He'd experienced that before with a hot woman, but he'd never had anyone grab him by the hair and pull his head up. Damn! This woman didn't give up easily. Surprisingly, he discovered that he liked that.

With her legs wrapped tightly around him and with her hands gripping his hair and holding his head up, he couldn't move much. But he knew that he had to try. To not do so would be to admit defeat.

He responded in kind, quickly letting go of her breast he jammed both of his arms up under her shoulder blades around to her neck, and grabbed her hair with both hands. Sneering he grunted, "Two can play your little game, Kaylie dear."

Summoning all of his strength he jerked his hips back as far as he could, lifting Kayla's hips and ass completely off of the bed. With both of them still tightly gripping each other's hair he plunged down, driving them so hard on her bed that one of the wooden bed slats gave a loud crack.

Clutching his hair with both fists managed to get his attention, though it also gave him ideas. Releasing his grasp on her breast, he reached beneath her shoulders and managed to get his fingers in her hair and pulled, not enough to pull it out by the roots. His scorn was apparent as he spoke.

Two can play your little game, Kaylie dear.

Perseverance was certainly not a category that Bradford was lacking in. At least not when it came to sex. And he was not shy in letting her know so. She held on tight, not giving him much room to maneuver but nevertheless, he gave it his best try.

Lifting her ass off the bed which she had to admit surprised her, he slammed into her, leaving her breathless. She heard one of the slats on the bed break. That was a first for her. But she continued to hang on for dear life, expecting any minute for Bradford to give up the ghost. He didn't.

This time, she brought his head back down to hers, kissing him hard. She thrusted her tongue into his mouth, not only imitating what he had done to her, but in a way taking the initiative. The air around them seemed hot, almost super heated. She broke off the kiss and gave a short sharp laugh, derision in her voice.

"Well, Braddie, I'm waiting. Unless you don't know how to take the initiative?"

Neither one of these lovers - or where they fighters? - was giving an inch. Bradford realized that Kayla's aggressive kissing was, in a way, her regaining the upper hand.

Well, Braddie, I'm waiting. Unless you don't know how to take the initiative?

What was she doing? Did she really want him to take the lead? Did she actually want to have more of an erotic encounter rather than a fight in another form?

He couldn't figure all of this out really quickly, but it didn't matter. Whatever her motive, she had issued a challenge. He was not about to let it go unanswered.

Kayla's aggressive kissing had momentarily, at least, caused them to loosen their iron grips on each other. There was now more room for each of them to move. He pulled back nearly far enough to slide out of her, then drove hard back into her, causing both of them to groan loudly. He followed that with two quick and hard, in-and-out thrusts. Stopping abruptly he said, but with somewhat less derision that before:

"Little Kaylie, I'm going to fuck you like there's no tomorrow. I dare you to match me. Unless, of course, you can't or won't."

There was momentary disorientation on Bradford's face and she inwardly was happy. He apparently did not know just how to take her words. Good! Maybe she could continue to confuse him.

She felt him start to slid out before slamming back into her. The air whooshed out of her lungs, and they both groaned as his hips pumped several times. However, the man never knew when to shut up and fuck. He kept taunting her.

Little Kayle, I'm going to fuck you like there's no tomorrow. I dare you to match me. Unless, of course, you can't or won't.

Fine! If a fight was what he wanted, he would get it. A fight for supremacy. She knew that she did not have his strength, so she would have to rely upon the element of surprise.

As he began to fuck her, she waited for the right moment - that moment when he slammed into her and they were closely joined. She had had a guy roll during sex before and knew that it could be done. But most men had the strength to do so. In that instance, she kept her right leg around him, keeping him close. The left leg she quickly removed from around his hip and, with knee bent, placed her foot flat on the bed and pushed hard while attempting to roll to the right.

It kinda surprised her that she was able to do it and that the entire roll only took seconds. She almost didn't remove her right leg from around his hips in time and if they had been on a hard surface, like the floor, Bradford's body weight would have hurt her leg.

But she got it moved in time and the look in his face was priceless as he suddenly found himself lying on his back and she was on top. The fucking stopped though they were still joined at the sex, his cock deep within her.

"Well, Braddie, now I'm gonna fuck you like you have never been fucked."

And with that she began to ride him, slamming hard into Bradford as her breast bounced before his face.

The roll didn't take him entirely by surprise. In fact, if anything, he was surprised that she hadn't tried it earlier. But, he didn't really mind. He knew that he had, unintentionally, given her the opportunity to try for the on top position. If he hadn't succumbed to his impulse to taunt her one more time, he could have just started fucking her so hard that she wouldn't have time to roll him.

Well, Braddie, now I'm gonna fuck you like you have never been fucked.

Her first slam down onto his cock caused him to let out all of his air in a big grown. He noticed with satisfaction that Kayla's face was contorted with the sweet pain that accompanies really hard fucking. They were now both hotter than an open flame.

Recovering his breath as she continued to ride him hard, he gasped, "Good, little Kaylie, we finally agree on something. You and I are each going to fuck each other harder than either of us have been fucked. Race you to the finish line, little girl."

Bradford jerked his knees up so that he could plant his feet on the bed so fast that his thighs bumped her ass so hard that she nearly fell forward. He reached his left hand up to grab her bouncing right breast, squeezing hard across her nipple. He thrust his right hand down to her pussy, anchoring it so that he could rub her wet clit in time with their rhythm. With his feet planted on the bed he thrust up hard to match each of her downward slams.

The slapping of flesh-on-flesh and their constant groans were nearly deafening, adding to the eroticism of the moment. Bradford knew that he couldn't last for long at this intensity. He clenched his teeth, holding on. He only hoped that she would cum first. That would be, at least, a minor victory for him.

It was wonderfully painful fucking Bradford, but she could tell that it wasn't a bed of roses for him either.

Good, little Kaylie, we finally agree on something. You and I are each going to fuck each other harder than either of us have been fucked. Race you to the finish line, little girl.

'Little girl!' She longed to slap that grin off his face as she rode him even harder, if that was possible and was satisfied with in grunt that he gave in response.

Bradford had another way to get even by planting his feet on her bed giving him leverage to thrust against her. She almost fell over on top of him but he caught her by the breast, squeezing it. His other hand was not idle, seeking and finding her clit. Without even trying her body quickened, her heart racing to keep up with the stimulation.

It was anger that fueled her otherwise she might have found herself heading quicker down the road to an orgasm. With hips undulating, there was determination that showed on her face, each grunt and groan that she elicited from the man beneath her like a personal triumph.

"I'm too much woman for you, Braddie!"

In their previous sex-filled summer Aimee had ridden Bradford harder than any other woman ever had, but Kayla's slamming down on his cock was beyond anything that he had ever experienced. He knew that he had only seconds left before he could no longer contain himself. In the crazy-ass fight that they were having, this would mean that Kayla won. He was doomed.

Consigned to failure a wild thought struck him. He could pretend to enjoy it. Winning by losing. And, the thought struck him not a second too soon. By the time that his thought was finished, Kayla had pulled back up and was starting a second slam. Bradford was ready.

Ohhhh!!! KAYLA!!!, he screamed as he exploded inside her with more force than he had ever done before. As violent spasms swept through is body, he yelled, "YES!! YES!! over and over.

Seeing the confusion in her face as his body relaxed enough for more than one word to come out of his mouth, he exclaimed, "Kayla. I was wrong. Nobody's ever fucked me better than you."

She was confused. Bradford seemed to actually enjoy losing to her. It didn't make sense. She felt him blasting cum deep inside her, screaming as his hands held her hips.

Kayla. I was wrong. Nobody's ever fucked me better than you.

She looked at him as she gritted her teeth, her jaw clinching and unclinching as she felt him throbbing deep inside her. Slowly the anger of the moment dissipated, leaving her very much aware of the situation. She sat nude atop a nude Bradford, fucking him. A man that she could not stand and yet she had just had sex with him. The grin on his face made her want to slap him. In the last 24 hours, she had sex with two different men. Their styles were totally different. But it was herself that she was disgust with.

She grabbed his fingers and removed them from her hips before climbing off of him. Bradford's cum started to run down her inner thigh as she stood by the bed for a moment, looking down at him disgusted.

Still naked, she crossed the room to her bathroom door and turned back to him.

"I want you dressed and out of my house by the time I get out of the bathroom."

She closed the bathroom door and locked it. The sound of water filling the tub drowned out any sound that that asshole might make in her bedroom. Once the tub was full of water as hot as she could stand it, she slowly climbed in, letting the hot water cover her body. In the quiet of her bathroom, she softly cried.

As Kayla headed to her bathroom Bradford quickly weighed his options, that is, if he had any options. When she told him with cold emotion to be out of her house before she got out of the bathroom, he realized that the impulsive, anger-filled emotion that had engulfed both of them had left her. She was now back in control of herself. If he refused to leave, she would calmly call the cops.

Bradford had, he knew, no choice but to leave. Wiping himself off on her sheets he quickly dressed and walked out the door, intentionally leaving it unlocked, though he wasn't sure why. His head was still filled with the outline of his plan to try to use sex to manipulate her. He was less sure now, though, that it would work. As they fucked viciously he assumed that she would cum, but she didn't, apparently. Shit! No one has that amount of control.

As he neared his motorcycle he saw a small business down the street that he had never noticed before. It was a boutique gift shop that featured many little gifts. Moving quickly, Bradford entered the shop and picked up a box of very expensive Belgian chocolates packaged with dainty wrapping. He picked out a gift card of equal elegance. Paying for the merchandise and borrowing a pen from the clerk he used is best penmanship to write a short note:

Kayla. I meant what I said. You are a remarkable lover. I have to rethink everything that I have thought or said about you. I can understand why you are angry, but I would like to see you again. Here's my cell: 469.555.1212.

Running quickly Bradford returned to Kayla's and cautiously pushed the door ajar. Good! She was apparently still in the bathroom. Moving stealthily he placed the gift and card on her table and left her house, this time silently locking the door behind him. He pushed his motorcycle half a block down the street, so that the sound of starting it wouldn't alert her that he was still near.

Riding home with the wind rushing past his face, Bradford knew that he had just tried a "Hail Mary" pass. It probably wouldn't work. Likely, Kayla would never contact him again, and, in fact, would likely avoid him as much as possible. But maybe, just maybe, his ploy would lead to some opening for him to play out a gambit that would lead to a win.

Kayla stayed in the tub until long after the water had gone tepid. Several times she had added hot water until there was no room left in the tub. No sound came from the other side of the door and she assumed that he got the message and had gone. She had cried so much that she felt dry inside, as if half of the water in the tub were her tears.

Pulling the plug, she stepped out and dried herself off before grabbing her silk mint robe off the back of the bathroom door. She looked at herself in the mirror. The stare was hollow-eyed. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and waited. The only sounds that greeted her were the slow chime of her parent's anniversary clock on the fireplace mantle in the living room and the ice maker in the fridge dropping a fresh load of ice cubes.

She didn't realize that she had been holding her breath until now. Slowly she walked around the house. Nothing looked out of place, though the bed - the scene of the crime - was unmade and the smell of sex hung heavy in her bedroom. A reminder of something that she should not have done.

She took the sheets off the bed and carried them into the laundry room, stuffing a sheet and the pillow cases into the washer. She set the dial and turned it on before walking back into the kitchen.

It was then that she noticed the dining room table. As she got closer, it appeared to be a...box of chocolates? A box of chocolates? She read the card.

Kayla. I meant what I said. You are a remarkable lover. I have to rethink everything that I have thought or said about you. I can understand why you are angry, but I would like to see you again. Here's my cell: 469.555.1212.

She sat down at the table and put her head down on her arms. What was she going to do? She was afraid that she would run into him again, and afraid that she wouldn't. And if and when she did, just what would she do?

For the next three days after leaving Kayla's Bradford tried to concentrate on his work on the sketches for the mural competition. He made progress, but he had to work hard to not be distracted by his thoughts about Kayla. His simmering resentment of her having bested him in their hostile, erotic encounter fed his fantasies about manipulating her through sex.

But, there was also something tingling in the back of his mind that he found hard to name, or to admit. Despite all else, she was pretty hot. She had a nice body and she certainly knew how to use it. He pushed those thoughts from his mind. He concentrated on ways to make his plan work, although his plan was not very well-formed. He couldn't very well just call her and ask her for a "date". They were way beyond that scenario, plus the ball seemed to be in her court. She could contact him, per his note to her, but she probably never would.

Then a thought struck him. Beautiful. He grabbed his phone and sent a text to Pam, H.H., Larry, and Kayla: Hello all. I just remembered that there's a great show of Allison Gildersleeve's impressionist paintings at the Valley House Gallery. I have wanted to see the exhibition since I first heard about it, but I just plain forgot in all of the excitement about the mural competition. The exhibition closes on June 2nd. Anyone want to go with me to see it before it closes?

It would be a cold day in hell before she contacted him! At least, that was her first thought. She had wanted to pitch the chocolates in the trash, and indeed they had sat there for an entire day, the box still wrapped up and ignored. But, if the truth were known, she was a chocoholic. It was a dirty little secret that she fought hard to keep just that. Dark chocolate was something that she just could not resist. So after the box sat there for a day, she finally opened it with the understanding that she would only take one.

She knew that it was a lie, and after she ate three of them, she stuck the box over to the side.

Jeff called her the next day. She felt guilty though there was really no reason as to why. They were not exclusive to each other. But she kept finding herself thinking of Bradford. Sex with him had been hot, and she had been so close to coming. The only reason she hadn't was because he beat her to the punch and came first.

She looked at the card that he had left. She certainly had no plans to call him. Nevertheless,she was still surprised when several days later, she got a text from Bradford on her phone.

Hello all. I just remembered that there's a great show of Allison Gildersleeve's impressionist paintings at the Valley House Gallery. I have wanted to see the exhibition since I first heard about it, but I just plain forgot in all of the excitement about the mural competition. The exhibition closes on June 2nd. Anyone want to go with me to see it before it closes?

He had never really included her like this, and if she begged off joining in, it would really raise suspicions. Though they would also be suspicious at her inclusion in the group. Damned if she did and damned if she didn't.

Pam called her to see if she would be coming and she acquiesced.

"I think that Bradford is trying to make friends with you."

"Yeah." Kayla was unsure just what else to say.

"So, will you be able to join us?"

"I think so."

Meanwhile, her work on the competition continued on along. She so hoped that she would win, but she felt that her real competition was with Bradford. Now if she could just get the sex with him out of her mind.