Abducted Secretary (closed)

dr_mabeuse

seduce the mind
Joined
Oct 10, 2002
Posts
11,528
This was crazy. He’d been waiting there now for almost forty minutes, the gun in his backpack, waiting to kill Havemeyer. What kind of asshole waits for forty minutes in a waiting room to kill someone simply because the man’s secretary says he’s busy? He should just go in there and blast the son of a bitch and be done with it.

It was a nice waiting room. Big, modern, with expensive furnitue, expensive magazines, and an expensive receptionist who looked at him out of the corner of her eye every so often, waiting for him to get tired and leave. But he wouldn’t leave. He watched her as she went about her business, taking phone calls, doing some filing, working on her computer. It was just the two of them, and Havemeyer, somewhere behind that door.

Finally he couldn’t wait any longer. He got up and approached her, and she smiled condescendingly at him, as if she knew she were dealing with a mental defective.

“Could you try him once more?” he asked. "It’s almost five.”

The smile was frozen on her face as she said, “Certainly, Mr Jones.” She put the phone to her ear and pressed a button. She never stopped smiling. The seconds passed.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Jones, but he must have left for the day.”

Left? What do you mean left?”

“I mean, he’s gone home.” she explained patiently.

Suddenly he bolted past her desk and pulled open the door into the private office. “Mr Jones!” she called in shock.

It was true. he could see immediately that the place was empty, the lights off. She’d known too, and left him sitting there like an idiot. She'd known all along.

“Mr Jones! Mr Jones! You’re not allowed in there! That’s Mr Havemeyer’s…”

She stopped as she saw the gun in his hand. It was worth it just to see that smile leave her face

"Then it's going to have to be you!" he said. "Turn around!"

"Mr Jones! Just calm down now..."

"Shut up and do as I say!" He spun her around, took her wrists, and with rope from the backpack, tied her wrists together behind her back. He was sick from being played for a fool, and his anger came out in his voice. "You try one fucking thing and I'll take your head right off!"

"All right! All right!" she stammered. "Don't! Just don't!"

"Where's your coat?" he asked her. She nodded at the built-in closet. He grabbed her coat and threw it over her shoulders, picked up hjis pack and grabbed her arm.

It was a miracle that he got her down in the elevator and out to the car with no one seeing her.

Not a soul.
 
Jennifer Crawford's day had gone pretty well up to now. It was almost time to go home and she had some crazy man sitting and waiting for almost an hour to see her boss. When would he get the idea and go home? If you want to see someone like Mr Havemeyer you made an appointment and, if you were lucky, you would get to see him within a month. If you were important you would get to see him within a week. The man sitting in the waiting room didn't look like either type to her.

Pretending to ignore him she went about her work knowing her boss was out for the day. In fact he was out for the week with someone who was not Mrs Havemeyer and it was up to Jennifer to keep up appearances which she was very good at and why she was one of the highest paid secretaries in the building.

Everythign was going smoothly until he approached her desk again and asked to try Mr Havemeyer again. Giving her best, "why don't you get out of my office" smiles she picked up the reciever and dialed into the adjoining office. Knowing what she would hear she shrugged and replaced the phone.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Jones, but he must have left for the day.”

“Left? What do you mean left?”

“I mean, he’s gone home.”

And then all hell broke loose. She bolted from her chair as the man rushed to Mr Havemeyer's door trying to block his entrance but missing it by only a few seconds. And then she was backing up toward her desk, wishing she had worn some other outfit than the tight short skirt and high heel pumps as she stared down the barrel of a gun. At least with flats and a loose skirt she could try to run.

The next few minutes were a blurr and she only had fuzzy memories of what was said and done. All she knew was she was more scared now than she ever had been in her entire life. Here she was with her hands tied behind her back, saying anything she could think of to calm him down but somewhere in the back of her mind knowing that it wasn't working.

When he asked for her coat she numbly nodded toward the closet her mind gone too blank to offer any solution to the situation. Stumbling alongside him as he pulled her out of the office building, down the elevator and to a strange car her mind began working though somewhat slowly. This must be some angry husband who found out about an affair her boss had had with his wife. Why else would someone come to an office with a gun?

Trying to pull back enough to slow their approach to the car and hoping someone, anyone, would see what was happening and come to her rescue she tried to talk to him again.

"Listen, I know what you are probably going through right now. You are angry and you want to take it out on someone. But I had no part in anything Mr Havemeyer did to you. I promise, I don't know what this is about but I can find out and help you to handle it through the proper channels."

Her heart was beating a mile a minute and she was glancing around for a way out. Any way out at all.
 
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He had no idea what he was doing, but he didn't really care. He was at the end of his rope, and Havemeyer had put him there, and he was just striking out.

But there was something to be said for just striking out. He felt wonderfully calm. For the first time in months he felt in control.

As soon as he got her in the car and locked the doors he took a piece of cloth from the backpack. He looked her in the eyes and saw the fear there, and it made him feel good. He hated himself for it, but it made him feel good.

"Turn your head." he said, as when she did he tied the cloth around her eyes. She gasped, and that made him feel good too. Then he put the car in gear and pulled away from the building.

"You don't even recognize me, do you?" he asked her. "I guess I'm just another sucker to you and your boss, huh? Just another guy to be fucked over by Alex Havemeyer Attorney At Law. You don't even know how many times you hung up on me, do you? How many times you gave me the runaround, how many times you treated me like shit."

She stammered a little, said something about being sorry, about talking this over in a reasonable manner, not doing anything rash, more bullshit.

She was good. Even blindfolded and kidnapped she was good. She was frightened, but he had no doubt that, despite her assurances, if he released her now she'd lose no time in turning him in, and she'd be there to laugh at him as the cops led him away. That's the kind of bitch she was.

He got onto the expressway, not knowing where he was going. He just liked seeing her scared, like the idea that she was in his power. He knew it was sick, but he didn't care. He got off the expressway, got on again going the other way, all the time thinking, all the time wild with excitement, all the time looking at her.

Havemeyer had ruined him, ruined his life. Simply because he lived in a piece of property that Havemeyer wanted, the lawyer had intentionally and maliciously just destroyed him with litigation, nuisance suits, code violations. He was an artist, a painter. He didn't understand law. All he'd wanted was to stay in his studio, and that apparently was enough to put him on Havemeyer's hit list.

He wanted to tell her this, but he didn't. Let her figure it out. Meanwhile he was thinking of other things. He'd kidnapped her. His ass was cooked now. He'd crossed the line. Even if he let her go now, there was no going back.

He looked at her as he drove. She was gorgeous, as you'd expect the secretary for a wheel like Havemeyer to be. Was Havemeyer doing her? Probably. Judging from her clothes she was pulling down some big money. Look at the jewelry. Look at her legs, her chest, her hair. He remembered her fingernails, long, manicured and perfect. Not a typist's nails.

Suddenly it all came together. The excitement of what he was doing, the undeniable sexual thrill he was getting out of this, the sense of power he had, the need for revenge. Now he knew what to do and where to go.

He got off the expressway just in time, drove down into a forlorn industrial part of town with empty warehouses standing on either side of the potholed street and pulled up behind one particular building.

He got out, opened her door and pulled her out. Holding her arm, he forced her along the cobbles of the alley, up some steps, and left her there while he fumbled with some keys. He got the heavy door open and pulled her inside.

The warehouse was totally empty exceprt for a few packing crates. The wood floors were so old that they warped in places, but the heat still worked, there was water and electricty. He should know. This had been his building, the very one Havemeyer had taken from him.

He marched her up the stairs to the second floor and into the corner where he'd lived. His furniture was still there. He took her coat from her shoulders, stood back and looked at her, looked at her good.

He was going to enjoy this.
 
Jennifer could hear the anger in his voice and she desperately searched her mind for a clue who this could be. Him telling her that she had hung up on him countless times did nothing to help her memory. Did he know how many people she put off or hung up on under orders of Havemeyer every day? That was what she was paid for, that was her job and she liked her job.

Nothing she said had gotten to him. She knew no amount of apology would suffice and she didn't even know what she was apologizing for. Who the hell did he think he was pulling her out of the office at gunpoint and kidnapping her?

Anger mixed with the fear but the fear was more powerful, especially now that she was blind as well as ignorant of who her kidnapper was and what he wanted exactly.

Her heart tightened as she felt the car stop and she waited in tense silence as she heard him get out and shut his door. Now would be the time to leave, to run-only to where and how? Her hands were tied behind her and she was blindfolded. That did not make for a good escape plan.

She heard the door to the passenger side open and felt him pull her from the car. She stumbled up the stairs in her three inch heels scraping her ankles and shoes as she did so.

"Bastard," She thought," At least he could lend me more of a hand then just dragging me." At the top of the stairs she waited as he apparently searched for a key. Again thoughts of flight entered her mind but all that pulling on the ropes on her wrists had done was to make them raw and stumbling down the stairs she had just climbed in her own personal darkness in these shoes would mean certain death as she fell down the stairs and broke her neck.

Again she was pulled along but this time she could tell she was in a building due to the change in atmosphere. Oh God! How was anyone going to find her if she was inside a building? Was the car hidden too? She hadn't been able to see.

More stairs and soon her legs were getting tired of stumbling blindly up them. She was almost grateful when they got to where they were going and she felt the release of his hand on her. Then her relief turned to puzzlement and more fear as she neither felt or heard anything from him. Where had he gone and why was she just left standing there? She hadn't heard him go down the steps so he must still be around. What the hell was he doing?

With each unanswered question her fear built until she was turning her head back and forth as if she could see anything to the sides of her. Her voice, when she broke, held a tremor of fear in it and sounded more like a small child's pleading than her usual assured and curt tones.

"Wh...where are you? What...what are you doing? What are you going to do to me? I assure you Havemeyer won't pay ransom for me. I'm only his secretary. I don't know what you have in mind but it won't work."

Her tone was getting almost desperate and she had to swallow to calm herself and get her voice under control.

"Look," She said,"I'll give you whatever you want to let me go. I don't know who you are or where we are so I can't give the cops any information. I never really paid attention to you in the office. I couldn't describe you if I wanted to. Please...please just let me go and we can forget the whole thing."

She was visibly shaking now and she could hear her ankle bracelets as well as the chains that adorned her neck clinking softly against each other. Why wouldn't he answer her? What could he want from her?
 
The place he'd brought her to was his old studio, the place where he'd worked for almost ten years. He'd inherited this old three-story warehouse from his grandfather, and he himself had worked to convert this part of the second floor to a living area, putting in a kitchen and bathroom, sanding the floors and sealing the old brick. The rest of the place was empty--had been empty for many years--giving him all the room he'd needed for painting and the monumental steel sculptures he occasionally worked on.

At one time this whole area had been an artist's community. Most industry had fled the city, leaving behind plenty of old manufacturing space that could be leased cheaply, just what artists like. It was fairly close to downtown and the gallery area, it was cheap, and for a while had been an exciting pl;ace to live. In those days there was always something going on, parties, openings, people to meet, ideas in the air. He'd had friends, lovers, a community.

But then the boom came. Developers started buying up old properties and tearing them down for luxury condos; yuppie ghettos. Rents went up. The artists were driven out. And then came the day when Havemeyer had made him an offer for his place. Nothing doing, he'd said. He wasn't interested, and that's when the trouble started.

He hadn't thought of himself as naive. He'd always assumed that the law was more or less fair, that in America the little guy had as much chance as the big guy, that, overall, justice prevailed. How stupid he'd been. Once it was clear that he really didn't care that much about money, that he couldn't be bought out, the lawsuits began. Strangers suddenly fell on his sidewalks and sued, city inspectors found violation after violation, silly things, like number of outside lights, or fire exits marked in red instead of red and yellow.

When he wrote an angry letter to a newspaper, Havemeyer brought suit for libel. Havemeyer had friends in high places. When he drove his car he was ticketed, when he stayed home he was harrassed. Havemeyer used the law like a club to beat him into submission, and then he just kept on beating him and beating him, just for the fun of it. He gallery shows were closed down, his parties were raided by police, even his friends were harrassed. His own lawyers took his money and told him to firget it. You couldn't fight Alex Havemeyer.

Thinking about that now as he watched her standing tentatively in the middle of the floor, he felt that sick and futile rage returning to him. As far as he was concerned, Havememyer had ruined his life. He was a dead man. He had nothing more to lose.

He threw his coat on the bed and ran his hands through his hair.
He went to her and took her arm and led her into the living area.

"So you're Jennifer, right?" he asked her. "Watch your step here. Okay. Sit."

He pushed her down into a chair and removed her blindfold and she blinked, trying to focus. Then she looked at him. She hadn't really bothered at the office, but now she looked at him very closely.

He was a powerfully-built young man, and his face was unusually intelligent. It was a face accustomed to laughing, but his eyes showed a kind of sadness behind the excited glitter. He wore his unruly dark hair longer than was fashionable, and he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. She realized though that he was remarkably good looking. If they had met under different circumstances...

He sat in a chair by the table, holding the gun and looking at her, then he took out a cigarette and lit it.

"Do you have to smoke?" she asked withoutr thinking of what she was saying.

He looked at her in surprise, and then burst into laughter. "Bad for my health, huh? That's funny. That's really funny."

"What do you want with me?" she asked.

He took a long pull on his cigarette. "Tell me," he said, "Are you as big an asshole as your boss?"

She just stared at him.

He smiled at her. "Your boss took everything I own. Everything I lived for. He must do that to a lot of people, huh?"

In truth she didn't know. She never thought of the people on the other end of the lawsuits and judgments she sent out. But at least she knew what she was up against now. "I wouldn't know."

He stubbed out his cigarette and brushed his hair back. "So now I've got something of his." he said. "Fair is fair, huh?"

He got up and took down two glasses from a shelf. There was a bottle of whiskey on the table. In one glass he poured a couple fingers of liquor, the other he filled halfway. He went to the tap and ran some water into the half-filled glass then brought it to her.

"Drink it." he said. She turned her head to the side, her lips pressed together. "Drink it or I'll shove it down your goddamed throat!"

She opened her mouth to protest and he poured the liquor into her mouth. She had to swallow to keep from gagging. Some of it ran down her face and splashed on her blouse, but he didn't stop until she had drained the whole thing, coughing and trying not to choke.

When he pulled the empty glass away she felt as if she were going to be sick. She coughed and gasped for breath. Miraculously, the whiskey stayed down, and she immediately felt the warmth spread thorugh her body.

Standing over her he couldn't help but notice the tops of her breasts whewre they showed through her blouse, wet now with whiskey. They were very nice breasts, expensive, like the rest of her.

Why not? he thought as he reached out and ran the backs of his fingers over them. who's going to stop me?
 
The fact that he showed her his face gave Jennifer a sick feeling. It meant that he wasn't going to let her get away. She couldn't understand this man, one minute he was gentle and guiding her to a chair and the next minute he was rough and rude again.

Her own temper flaired when he said he had something of Alex Havemeyer's. What did he mean by that? Did he think she was a slut that slept with her boss? She did not get to where she was by sleeping with the boss, she got there by being the best damn secretary any man could ask for.

She had to admit that she wore the clothes and jewlery that attracted attention and clients to her boss. She looked like the perfect secretary with her manicured nails and fashionable clothing. Her auburn hair was always neat and attractively arranged and she visited a well known hairdresser regularly to keep up on that fashion. But it was all window dressing to add to the allure of Alex Havemeyer's office.

She was fuming when he came over with the drink and she turned her head. She didn't know what he had put in the drink but she found out quick enough. The whiskey burned through her throat and spread the heat throughout her body. She was not a heavy drinker. In fact she usually only had an occasional drink at home and then if she was in a social situation she would nurse a drink through the night for looks. Yes, her job was all about looks but she had them and she knew how to use them and it got her a damn good paycheck every two weeks.

She felt a bit a dizziness as the force of the liquor hit her and it made her less cautious than she might be. The fact that he had the gall to run a hand down her breast did not help her hold her tongue.

Jerking away from his hand she hissed at him,"Stop it! I don't know what you think of me but I am not my bosses playtoy and, even if I was, it wouldn't give you permission to take liberties like that."

She shook her head trying to clear it of the buzzing that had started in it. Dammit, she and hard liquor just did not mix.
 
"Stop it! I don't know what you think of me but I am not my bosses playtoy and, even if I was, it wouldn't give you permission to take liberties like that."

He looked at her. “Permission!?” he exclaimed. “Permission? Is that what you talk about in Havemeyer’s office? Permission?” he laughed bitterly. “Well that must be really nice, really nice. So you have to get someone’s permission before you touch them, before you fuck them over. Before you bend them over the fence and just ram it to them nice and deep.”

“Or—wait! Don’t tell me--you never knew what was going in that office. You never knew your boss’ business. You were just an innocent bystander. Just a lackey. Just following orders.”
He picked up his drink and drained it, slamming the glass down on the table.

“Well let me tell you about Mr. Havemeyer’s business because obviously you don’t know much about it. He was in the business of screwing people. Not just screwing them, but crushing them. Finding people weaker than he is and just grinding them into the dirt, destroying them. Intentionally and maliciously destroying them. And I know, because I’m one of the people he destroyed. He’s an evil, greedy, mean-spirited son of a bitch, and you were part of it. So don’t give me that “I was just doing my job” crap!”

He pulled his chair around and sat down on it backwards, holding the gun in one hand. He poured another drink and his hands were shaking so much that she heard the bottle clinking against the glass. She was rapidly feeling the effects of the liquor, but his anger was keeping her sober. And very frightened.

“It’s not just greed. I could understand greed. God knows he’s got more than enough, way more than his share. He doesn’t even need money anymore. He just does it for the grins; because he can. You must get a lot of laughs around the old office, huh? Watching us worms wiggle and struggle once you’ve got the hook in us. Must be amusing as all hell. Must be a lot of laughs hanging up on us poor jerks who are begging for a few more days to scrape some cash together, a few more days to pack before he sends the bulldozers in. Must have you fucking rolling on the floor!

He was so angry now he was shouting, and Jennifer thought her teeth would start chattering from fear. He was not only armed, he was insane.

He dropped his voice. “I was going to kill the prick.” he said calmly, with a tinge of regret, as if reminiscing. “I don’t care anymore. I’ve got nothing left. I even had to auction off my paintings to pay my legal bills. And Janey?” he asked her, as if she’d understand, “she ran off with another prick lawyer. One of the guys I was paying to defend me! There’s a laugh for you. You’ll have to tell your boss that one. He’d appreciate it.”

Suddenly he grew silent. He finished his drink and set the glass down on the table with a deep sigh. He ran his fingers through his hair. He seemed suddenly very tired.

"How are your wrists?" he asked. "Is the rope too tight? I don't want you getting gangrene or anything. Here, let me see."

He approached her and pulled her aside by her shoulder so he could work his finger down between the rope and her wrists, making sure it wasn't too tight. His touch was surprisingly gentle, concerned

"Are you okay?" he asked her. "Your nose itch or anything?
"Look, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I touched you. I'm sorry I had to get you involved in this. I don't want to hurt you, really. It's just that sometimes..."

He got up and walked to the window. Outside she could see the lights of the city winking on in the winter night. Her head was swimming now. Maybe she was drunk, but she wasn't as scared as before.
 
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Jen sat there wincing at every inflection of his voice as if they were slaps being delivered to her face. His words cut into like a knife but they made her think. She hadn't realized this part of life. She had sat up in the office following orders. If Havemeyer didn't want to talk to someone than she brushed them off. She typed up the orders and legal papers but she never really paid attention to them. They were numbers and dates and legal jargon.

But this man wasn't. He had crossed over that line, scaled that wall that she kept between her and her boss and all those they dealt with. She was used to the good money and celebrity standing. She loved the praise she got. Loved hearing people say,"That's a damn fine secretary you got there. I'd steal her away in a second if she would let me." And then laughter from Havemeyer because he knew that Jen knew she would never get the treatment from others that she got from him.

She was shaking all over and that mixed with the buzzing in her head was making things hard to put together. Right now she didn't know what to think or what to say. This man went from being a raving lunitic to being kind and gentle, concerned about her welfare.

"I...I'm sorry," She said in a low voice,"I didn't...I mean I never...I just didn't think about it. You know. I typed up the papers and did what he asked me to but I didn't think about it. I didn't need to. I was paid not to..." Her voice faded and she shook her head trying to clear it but only making the dizziness worse. This wasn't working but she found she had a hard time lying to this man. Something about him made her want to be honest with him...maybe it was the booze. But the truth just didn't sound right.

I really didn't give a damn about anything but my paycheck, my clothes and my other possession was something she doubted he wanted to hear right now. And besides, she had another problem.

"I...I have to go to the bathroom. If you could untie my hands long enough I promise not to run away. I'm sorry...I just don't react well to hard liquor."
 
"I...I have to go to the bathroom. If you could untie my hands long enough I promise not to run away. I'm sorry...I just don't react well to hard liquor."

He had been sitting there, gun in hand, eyes unfocused, thinking about his own pain, wondering how he had come to this point in his life. Now he looked at her with a rueful grin. It made him look very young.

"Bathroom?" he asked. "Yeah, sure. Isn't that always how it is? You try and make some big heroic gesture, and someone has to go to the bathroom."

He came over and worked at her wrists. As he did, he couldn't help but smell her hair. She smelled like a woman. It was a smell he'd forgotten, and it made his heart ache. It reminded him of other nights with other women.

He finished untying her wrists. They were slim, elegant, and it made him feel bad to see how she rubbed them together. "You be good, okay? It's right through that door." He didn't worry about her leaving. All teh windows were barred except for the window that led to the fire escape in this room.

She walked in and he heard the lock click. He flopped heavily down in the chair. He was very tired now. Too tired to deal with this. He put up a pot of coffee and stood by the sink thinking.

He could still let her go and maybe she wouldn't press charges. But he knew Havemeyer would. For breaking and entering, for something.

Or he could keep it up. Go on with the abduction. But what was the point? What was the point of any of this. Now that his rage had faded, now that he had met the person his revenge would actually hurt, he didn't have the stomach for it.

Some desperado he made, he thought.
 
After using the bathroom, Jen splashed a bit of water on her face and began to readjust her hair into the bun she usually wore for work. After a minute she shrugged, pulled all the pins out and threw them down on the sink. She was tired, confused and in the hands of a man whom she didn't know from Adam. What was the point.

Smoothing her hair out and letting it fall to it's natural length which was somewhere about her middle back she opened the door and peered out. There was no maniac with a gun waiting for her as she came out of the bathroom and, as she walked back to the room, she saw him sitting in the chair almost in a state of defeat.

"That coffee smells good," She said trying to place a real smile on her face,"Mind if I have a cup before you tie my hands again?" Getting no response she moved to the coffee maker and poured herself a cup. Taking a sip of it she only now realized how dry her mouth had gotten and the heat of the liquid going down her throat was welcome.

Sitting back on her chair, she held the cup in both hands and only now took a really good look at the man in front of her. "Are you okay?" She said a hint of worry entering her voice but she didn't know if it was worry for herself if he wasn't okay or worry for him.

Clearing her throat she continued. "I guess I don't really know what to say. I wish I could say I understand but I don't. I never had anything happen to me like it happened to you. I have always-well, I just have never been there."

"What happens now? I've never been in this position before either. Is this your first kidnapping or do you do this often?" A giggle escaped her and she covered her mouth. God! The whiskey must still be effecting her for her to say something like that.
 
"Is this your first kidnapping or do you do this often?"

For a second he glared at her. Then his face collapsed into a big grin, laughing at his own foolishness. He hung his head and shook it slowly, as if in disbelief, then he ran his hand through his hair and looked at her.

"Oh yeah. I try to get in one or two a week." he said dryly. "Now I ask you, if I did this often, would I be so rotten at it? I hope not."

He got himself a cup of coffee and sat on the table sipping it.

"Sorry about the whiskey." he said. "I saw that in a movie. It seemed like a good idea at the time. So did snatching you."

As he said this he was aware of the sound of a siren in the distance. Sirens were common enough, but this one was getting closer. It was a police siren. It was getting very close.

Suddenly he was up and hitting the light switch, plunging the place into darkness. The sirens were very close, right below them. But they kept on going, fading in the distance.

She looked at him and saw the tightness in his jaw, the dangerous look had returned to his eye. He had the gun in his hand.

He looked at her, but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Something wild had returned to his eyes, a look of being hunted.

"Finish your coffee." he said quietly. "I've got to tie you up again."

She didn't say anything. She finished her coffee and stood, crossing her wrists behind her back, but he said "No. In front is okay."

She raised her hands in front of her and he tied her wrists together. Standing so close to her it was impossible not to look in her eyes, and impossible for her not to know what he was feeling too. He had to put her hands against his chest as he tied the final knot, and she could feel his heart beating.

"I know it's not your fault." he said softly. "I don't blame you. But you're all I have now. I can't let you get away."

His words were so strange that she had to stare at him. You're all I have now. I can't let you get away. What did that mean? Did he know how it sounded?

"You sleep here." he said, pointing to the bed. "I'll sleep on the sofa."

He reached into his backpack and took out a set of handcuffs. he seemed to have been prepared for anything. He attached one cuff to the footboard of the bed, and snapped the other around her ankle, his hands lingering on her skin for a minute.

Then he got up and brought her a blanket from the closet and spread it over her.

"He's going to have to pay to get you back." he said. "I'm going to tell him he's got to pay. I want you to see what kind of man he is. Now try to sleep. I'll be right here. Call me if you need me."
 
She lay there in the dark the feel of the ropes and handcuffs heavy upon her skin. She was wide awake and it seemed like she could hear everything in the darkness.

She just couldn't figure this man out. He seemed to go from one extreme to another and she never knew which side of him she would see next. She listened for a bit and pretty soon could decern his breathing from the other noises in the room. She shivered a bit and somehow the blanket didn't seem to be enough protection when she was vunerable like this.

Jen moved around in the bed trying to get comfortable but it was hard when you were tied up. For some reason her mind kept going back to when he tied her up and her hands were right over his heart. She could still feel the rapid beat against her hand now as if it was an echo of the real thing. She could remember how she was so close to him and could smell him. He didn't smell the way she thought he would. She thought he would smell greasy and unpleasant but there was a musky odor that was not unpleasant and she knew she had been trembling when she was standing so close to him.

"Oh stop it!" Her mind screamed at her. "He's a kidnapper for God's sake! He took you from your safe environment and dragged you here against your will. Let him get ahold of Havemeyer. That will be his first mistake. Your boss has connections to everyone. You will be home before the sun sets tomorrow."

Jen's head rolled back and forth on the bed as she tried to put her feelings into place. Yes, he had taken her against her will-at gunpoint even. But what had her boss done to make him come into the office with a loaded gun in the first place. And what did he mean by she was all he had? All he had to bargain himself out of this spot? To regain what he thought her boss had stolen from him? And was she really blameless? He was right when he said she had known more than she let on. She had known more than she wanted to know and she kept pushing it to the back of her mind as if it didn't matter if she didn't think about it.

Clearing her throat to catch his attention, she asked a question she had been thinking about since he brought it up. She didn't know what his reaction was but she couldn't help but be curious.

"Who...who is Janey?" She said hoping she didn't trigger off another round of anger.
 
"Who...who is Janey?"

He was somewhere between asleep and awake, and at first he thought the voice was in a dream. Then he realized Jennifer had asked him that, and the question hung there in the air unanswered.

She heard him get up and come over to her, put himself down in one of the kitchen chairs that stood nearb yhe bed. He'd taken off his shoes and shirt and all he wore was his trousers and a tank-style undershirt that left his big shoulders exposed.

He sat for a moment, searching for words, or maybe he was just glad of the company.

She heard a match flare and his face was iulluminated in the orange light as he lit a cigarette. There was no sign of rage now, no sign of anger. In the darkness and the quiet of the night all that was forgotten. He looked thoughtful and more than a little sad.

"Someone I loved." he said finally. "Someone who meant a lot to me. I shouldn't have brought her up. She might have left anyway if all this... If all this other stuff hadn't gone wrong. It was just too much for her."

He sighed. "You must have someone too." he said. "You can imagine how it would feel to lose them. To have them taken from you." Aware of her feelings, he corrected himself. "Not taken maybe, but... Well she left. I suppose that's when I really lost it, when I really said the hell with everything.
"It's just very hard to keep on fighting when you're all alone; when you've got nothing and no one left to fight for. It's all kind of pointless once that happens."

She knew enough not to say anything. There was nothing to be said. Besides, it felt entirely different being with him in the dark like this. It felt very intimate, as if she were listening to the real him for the first time, and she didn't want to break the spell.

"What's your name?" she asked gently.

He gave a short, dismissive laugh. "Does it matter?"

"Of course it does." she insisted. His question shocked her.

Then she realized that he probably wouldn't want her to know his name anyhow.

"It's Timothy. Timothy George Seroka." he said.

"They call you Tim?"

Again the deprecatory laugh. "They don't call me much of anything anymore. There aren't many 'theys' left And what about you? You're Jennifer, right? Jennifer what?"

"Crawford."

"Oh yes, right. 'Miss Crawford speaking'. I'd forgotten."

He stubbed out the cigarette and stood up and for a moment she thought he was going back to the sofa, but instead he came and sat on the edge of her bed. "Here. give me your hands. I'll untie you. I hate seeing you like this."

She held out her hands and he carefully untied her wrists then unwound the rope from them. He took her hands in his.

"You're cold." he said. "You must be freezing. I'll get you my blanket. I'm not going to sleep anyhow." But he was reluctant to get up off the bed.

He was suddenly very conscious of her as his captive, his prisoner. He had stepped beyond the pale of the law that evening. He had become a criminal, as strange as that seemed to him, and though she might not be aware of it, it made a big difference to him. The usual rules and customs that governed conduct between a man and a woman no longer applied. He was playing without a safety net, and whenever he wished he could take her back to the criminal side where she would be nothing but a victim, subject to his will and desire.

She was very lovely, very desirable. And very vulnerable.

"You know," he said. "You're nothing like the way you were in the office. You were always a cold-hearted bitch to me; Havemeyer's stooge. You probably don't even remember talking to me, but you must have hung up on me countless times. You don't know how I came to hate you. Now I see you're just pretty much a human being like all the rest of us, aren't you?"
"Just a hell of a lot better looking." he added with a smile

He waited for her to make some move that would tell him to get up so she could sleep, but she didn't.

"Now you talk." he said. "Tell me about yourself."
 
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Jean sat there listening to this man hardly daring to breath lest she break the spell. Timothy Seroka. The name seemed vaugely familiar but he was right, she hardly paid attention to those that Havemeyer didn't want to talk to. The Unimportants he called them. And yet, now that title didn't seem to fit.

She trembled a bit as she held out her hands to him to untie her. The ropes falling from her wrists felt good but the contact with him when he held her hands was like a shock. She didn't know if she was to be afraid or if it actually felt good.

"Now talk to me," He said,"Tell me about yourself."

Jen's mind raced. What was she to tell this man? No, he had a name now...Tim. What was she to tell Tim? That she had never had to struggle all her life for things? That things pretty much fell into place for her and she had always looked down on people like him not even considering that they had lives of their own where they laughed and cried, loved and hated, felt hurt and joy?

"I've never been in love before." It just tumbled out of her mouth and she wondered why that would be the first thing she told him. "Not the kind of love where that person leaving would-well would matter so very much."

She swallowed hard and tried to see him through the dark. "I was born into a family who was well off. My mom was always on charity runs and my dad was always-busy, you know. I had everything I wanted whenever I wanted and we traveled in the best circle."

Jen moved on the bed trying to get to where she could at least see an outline of him as she talked but never letting go of his hands. "When I began to date I had my pick of the best looking guys in the expensive school my dad sent me to. I mean, thats what it was all about, you were judged on who you went with, who was at your side."

He could feel her move as she gave a small shrug. "Then, when it came time for a career I picked something that would keep me in the world I knew. My dad had connections and he set me up with Mr Havemeyer. I had had experience doing the same things for my dad when I was younger. I used to sit in for him when he was between girls. I learned how to turn away the ones that no one thought was important and how to play up to the ones that were."

She paused a minute before saying in a small voice. "It...it was the only time I really got to see my dad. He was always off on business. Birthdays, holidays, summer vacation. Most of them I spent alone so I found a way to be useful enough to him so he had to take me places with him."

Her voice trailed off and she felt the stirrings of an old hurt long since thought buried. Closing her eyes she reminded herself that she was no longer that little girl waiting at the window for someone who never came home. She no longer jumped at the sound of the phone when it rang thinking it just may be him saying he was coming home to take her out for her birthday like he had promised. She was no longer the small child who tiptoed past her mother's door knowing that her mother would have drank too much and be in no mood to be awoken with playful antics.

He must have thought she was asleep because she felt him move and all of a sudden she didn't want him to leave, didn't want to be alone with these thoughts. Grasping his hands tightly she said the first thing that came to her mind lest he go away.

"Don't go..." her voice was thick as if the memories she brought up had brought her close to tears,"I...I like talking to you. And, besides, I can't sleep. Just talk to me a little bit longer, please?"
 
He listened to her talk, her voice soft in the darkness. It was obvious that she herself wasn't something she talked about very much. She started out tentatively, and warmed to her subject as she talked about growing up. but then her voice got softer, more wistful, and thick with emotion. In the light from the streetlamp outside he could just make her out: the jewelry on her neck, the white of her teeth, and her eyes, and as she talked he saw her eye glisten as it filled with tears.

She stopped suddenly, before she started crying in earnest. She didn't know why she wanted to cry. She'd had a perfect childhood, a wonderful life, everything she'd ever wanted. She must just be upset from all the excitement. A delayed reaction of some sort, post-traumatic stress.

She found she was squeezing his hands, holding him to her as she choked back her tears. He made a move and she thought he was going to leave. "Don't go," she said suddenly. "I...I like talking to you. And, besides, I can't sleep. Just talk to me a little bit longer, please?"

She could just see his teeth as he smiled at her. "You must have been a very lonely little girl, huh?" he asked gently. "Is that why you're sad?"

"No!" she said. "No, I was... I was... "

He touched her face, his hand warm against her cheek, and she lost it. She remembered now, being alone in that big, expensive house, Mommy "asleep", Daddy gone, the servants and nannys who never stayed long enough. And she saw herself now, still that same little girl but grown tough and hard. Saw herself with Havemeyer and his big-money friends, saw her expensive apartment, expensive clothes, saw the same little girl all alone in her big expensive world, and she lost it.

"I don't know why I'm crying." she said through her tears. "Really, I had everything. They gave me everything. I was very happy! I really was!"

She felt him lie down next to her and he put his arms around her, and in his embrace she just let it all go, burying her face in his chest and crying without shame.

She was so small in his arms, he thought. She had always seemed so big to him when he had to deal with her, so imposing, so very much in control, and now she felt so tiny, as if she were no more than a girl. Tiny and warm, almost hot. Her tears wet the front of his tee shirt, her face tickled the hair on his chest. He held her tight, stroking the side of her hot face, smoothing her hair.

"It's all the excitement." she sobbed through her tears. "I'm all worked up. It's my nerves."

He held her till she calmed down and stopped crying. She lie on his chest in the darkness, wondering what was happening to her as he stroked her hair and her breathing returned to normal.

He rolled over on his side, turning her on her back, Leaning on his arm he looked into her moist eyes, and she looked into his, searching his face, afraid of what he must think of her now. Then he lowered his face to hers and kissed her.

"No." she said. "Don't. Tim, don't."

He kissed her again, and this time she closed her eyes.
 
She felt like she would never stop crying. She wondered where it all came from. She had been happy-hadn't she? She had so much-more than most kids. That means you are happy. Right?

Still as he lay there holding her she felt that she finally had something that she had never had before. Someone to be there to listen to her. Not tell her what to do or make excuses for broken promises but just listen. A facade of many years began to crumble about her and once again she felt small and vunerable just like she had when she was a little girl.

Finally the tears stopped coming and she lay there closing her eyes and listening to the beating of his heart. There was a comfort in it that she had never felt before. Laying here in the darkness with only the sound of his heart and the feel of his hand stroking her hair made it seem like the world outside didn't exist anymore and that was a comfort in itself.

With a small sigh she let herself relax and lean into his comforting strength, a tiredness coming over her from the built up emotions and stress of the day. It was with some surprise that she felt him turn her onto her back and look down at her.

A thought came to her in a flash. She had given too much of herself away. Now he was laying there laughing at her, getting his kicks out of the weakness she had shown him. He was enjoying the thought that she was in his power and he hadn't really meant any of the comforting gestures of earlier. He had just used that to get her to show her weaknesses.

Her eyes sought his in the dark, wondering what happened next. Afraid now that she had let this total stranger get beneath the hard surface others saw. Telling herself that she was a fool.

And then he leaned down and kissed her and a jolt went through Jen. What was happening? This was wrong. It was just very wrong. She protested, putting her hands up to his chest as if she would push him away.

"No," She said,"Don't. Tim, don't."

He didn't listen and was kissing her again, pressing her hands down, trapping them between his body and her own, his lips soft and exploring on hers. She wanted to pull away, wanted to break the kiss. This seemed so far from reality. It was as if she had just dropped into another world, one that had no boundries.

Her eyes closed and, even though she told herself she didn't want this, her mouth opened under the pressure of his. A sigh escaped her as the kiss deepened and he could feel her tremble beneath him. When it broke after what seemed like forever she looked up at him again.

"We...we can't," She said trying to explain why all of this was impossible,"It's the emotions. Both of us have been through alot of them today and we aren't thinking straight."

Still when his hand brushed her arm it sent a shiver through her and she knew he could feel her reaction to his touch.
 
"We can't. We shouldn't. It's wrong. Not now. Not ever." he whispered, lying so close to her that she felt him everywhere; so close she could feel his breath on her lips. "We're too upset, too emotional. Or we're too busy, just don't have the time. Maybe next week, maybe next year, maybe never."

She was closed her eyes in pain and turned her face away. Did he know he sounded just like her father? She was afraid she'd start crying again.

"It's always something, isn't it?" he asked in a whisper. "There's always some reason not to."

He stopped suddenly and cocked his head, listening. She heard another siren, distant but getting closer, and she felt him stiffen even as she fear a surge of fear in the pit of her stomach.

They couldn't be looking for him. Not so soon! Who would even know she'd been abducted? It had only been a few hours ago. But even so the two of them remained frozen as the electronic wail got closer and closer, at times echoing strangely off the buildings so that it sounded like they were surrounded by squads of police. Fear and alarm clawed at her and she stared at him in fear.

"It couldn't be." she whispered. "Not so soon. Not yet."

He squeezed her to silence her. Another siren joined the first one and he made a move to leave the bed, but she grabbed at him with an anxiety that astonished even her.

"No." she said. "No. They're going away." But she wasn't sure. She clung to him, clinging to the safety she felt in his embrace, and as she did she felt him start to relax.

They were going away. They were definitely going away now. He exhaled deeply and lay his head on the pillow next to her, the kisses forgotten.

But she had learned her lesson. He was right: they had no time. If she wanted him, if he wanted her, they couldn't wait. They had no time, no time whatsoever. It could end any minute. Every minute was precious.
 
She lay beside him, her heart beating fast even though the sirens had faded. Why was she so afraid that the police would come? Why wasn't she happy that they might find her-might take her away from this?

And what would they be taking her away from? She had been afraid of the sirens-not of him. She had never remembered when she felt like she was not alone. Laying there listening to his breathing something about what he had told her rang true to her. His words had pierced her soul like a hot knife. How many times had she put things off-things that really mattered-for the material security she had always known? When was the last time she took a chance? A risk? The answer was never. She never took risks. She always knew what was going to happen and in what order-she had control-always.

Except now. Now she had no control in what happened to her and she should be frightened to death. But she wasn't. For some reason she it was just the opposite. This man had control of her life now, he was the only one who had a say in what happened and she felt...comforted somehow by that thought.

Moving so that she could see his face, she ran a tentitive finger across the lips that had just a moment ago held her own. Her long hair fanned out behind her, some of it falling across her shoulders to lay on his chest.

Looking into his eyes her own held a pleading in them. "Don't send that note to Havemeyer. Don't take the next step. I promise I won't tell anyone about this. No one can know what happened. No one saw. If you send the note they will arrest you for kidnapping but...if I said I was with you of my own free will they couldn't do a thing."

Her finger stopped tracing his lips and moved up to run gently through his hair. "I'm sorry that he...I...we hurt you. I suppose I could have looked closer. Could have cared more. I am as much at fault as he is. But ransom is not the answer."

Biting her lip she moved to take the biggest risk of her life but she felt this man deserved to have restored to him what they had so cruelly taken from him. And did she feel more than that? She didn't know, didn't dare explore that possiblity yet.

"I know everything about Havemeyer. His personal life as well as the life he never shows anyone. I am the keeper of all his secrets. I know how we can get what is yours back without you risking jail. At least not over me."
 
"I know everything about Havemeyer. His personal life as well as the life he never shows anyone. I am the keeper of all his secrets. I know how we can get what is yours back without you risking jail. At least not over me."

He still held her in his arms, her own arms trapped against his chest. "You'd do that for me?" he asked her. "You really would?"

She nodded her head and he held her more tightly. He pressed his face into her hair, and smelled her freagrance, still there, just as it had been when he marched her out of the office.

And then he realized that she was right. If she pressed no charges, there was no complaint. He hadn't done anything wrong. He was being given a second chance, and all his sense of fatality and finality were nothing. It was as if he were allowed to crawl out of his grave and re-enter the land of the living. Her feelings for him had literally redeemed him.

"You're right." he said, still astonished. "If you forgive me, then I haven't done anything wrong, have I?"

She looked at him and shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes again.

"And you'd do that for me? After what I put your through?"

She nodded. "Yes. Yes I would."

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, and what came out was a kind of grateful sob. He held her again, so tight she could hardly breath, and she let the tears come as she closed her eyes to feel his arms around her, feel his heart beating against hers.

"Jennifer, I don't care about that other stuff." he said. "I don't want revenge. I don't want any of that. I just want you. I just want you."

"Oh Tim..."

"It's true. I just feel like it's worth it again. You make me feel that way, Jennifer. You... I just haven't felt this way about anything in so long..."

"No, no." she said, hushing him. She felt like she was about to overflow if he said anything more. She didn't want him to talk, she didn't want him to try and explain.

She kissed him, and he returned her kiss with a fervor that set her heart hammering. He was tender, but he was so full of desire for her that she surrendered to the sensations and gave him her mouth.

He kissed her, tasting the salt of her tears as they ran down her face, then he kissed the tears. He kissed her cheeks, her jaw, and nuzzled down to kiss the side of her neck, making her gasp in pleasure. Alarms went off in her head as she felt her desire rising, and she purposely ignored them, told them to shut the hell up, that for once she was going to do what she wanted to do, what felt right. She luxuriated in his kisses, letting the heat possess her, letting her body have its way as he loved her. It had been so long since anyone had touched her with such desire, since she had even felt worthy of such desire.

She felt his hardness where it pressed against her hip, and he knew she did.

"Jennifer..." he started, but she silenced him again.

"It's all right, Tim. It's all right."

He groaned and stroked her face as he kissed her, exploring the contours of her face, her eyes, her nose. His hands were so wonderfully gentle. When he went to her breasts she made no move to stop him. She waited breathlessly as he fumbled with the buttons of her blouse, and then when his warm lips touched her skin she shuddered with pleasure and pulled his head to her.

She was so beautiful. The half-light painted her face in mysterious shadows and shone on the wonders of her body as he worshipped her with his mouth and hands. He opened her blouse all the way and covered her trembling belly with kisses, working lower and lower, making her gasp.

By the time his hand worked up her leg and beneath her skirt she was dying for his touch, writhing in a slow and sensuous hunger. If anything now he was too slow for her. Now that she had given in, now that she had no reservataions, she longed to feel him inside her, hard and deep, as if her walls of repression had suddenly given way and he was consumed in a flood of need.

She twisted toi the side so he could find the zipper on her skirt, and he knelt above her with the light sculpting the muscles in his shoulders and back, his dark hair falling over his face, and he smiled at her suddenly.

"You're still chained to the bed," he said grinning. "I'd better get the key."
 
His kisses felt like a brand burning into her and his hands left a trail of heat wherever they touched. Jen had never felt so alive in her life. She had had lovers but they had never made her body respond so readily, had never taken the time to make her feel as if her very soul responded to them. This was heaven and hell merged as she enjoyed his every touch but yearned for a more intimate joining with him.

By the time he reached to unzipper her skirt she was ready to cut her clothes off if it meant that she could feel his skin against her and she groaned as he went to go get the key to unlock her. Right now she didn't give a damn whether she was locked to the bed or not. She was too afraid reality would break in and stop this wonderful torture he was putting her through.

Sitting up as he went to find the key she shed her blouse completely and reached up to undo her bra and shed it as well. She could hear him fumbling to find the small key in the dark and she had to stifle a laugh when she heard him bump into something and curse. It seemed an eternity before he returned and she could feel his hand on her ankle, holding it still so he could fit the key into the lock. A small click sounded and she felt the steel fall from her ankle. It barely registered to her that she was now free. All she cared about was continuing this wonderful freedom she felt right now and she anxiously reached out for him to pull him back on the bed with her.

Slidding her hands beneath the white T shirt she lifted it over his head and dropped it to the floor wasting no time in placing her body next to his. She wanted to feel his heart beating against her skin again only this time with none of the cloth barriers that had been between them before.

Pressing herself to him, she began to plant kisses of her own on his face, neck and chest, running her hands through the hair that adorned his chest. Trembling with excitement, she let her hands roam over his muscled body thrilling to the touch of him and shivering a bit with the feelings of excitement that threatened to overwhelm her.

Placing her hands on his belt she struggled a bit to get it open but would not let him help her. This was something she wanted to do for herself. As she unbuckled it she felt him run his hands over her back to her skirt's zipper and the silence was broken by the sound of it being released and, a moment later, of his own zipper following.

Jen couldn't believe what she was doing. It was so wanton, so rash and yet so beautiful in it's unplanned passion. She wanted him so badly she could think of nothing but him and she groaned in pleasure as she felt his hands run under the material of her skirt pushing it over her hips and down as far as it could go. Adjusting her position so that he could remove the skirt and nylons she then went back to her own enjoyable task of making him as available to her as she was to him.

Her hands trembled as she pushed the material of his pants and breifs down to reveal the hardness she had felt restrained within those cloth confinements and she shivered as she realized his need for her was as great as her need for him.

It was his turn to adjust his position so that she could help him shed the last of his clothes and, when they were on the floor with his shirt and her own clothing she paused a moment just to look at him, or at least what she could see by the light of the street lamp.

Reaching out, she stroked his manhood loving the feel of it responding to her touch and reveling in his moans as she ran her hand up and down it in a gentle teasing fashion. She wanted to feel this inside of her, was almost bursting with need for him and she could feel the heat and wetness building up between her legs.

He must have sensed it too. She must smell like an animal in heat right about now but she didn't care. She could feel his hands stroking her thighs moving up them slowly as she ran a finger over the tip of his cock eliciting another deep moan from him.

Tim's fingers played lighting along her skin, his fingers moving between her legs until they reached her very wet, very heated pussy. She shuddered and her moans mixed with his. The more he explored her the more the need arose within her.

Bending down to kiss him deeply, she then whispered to him,"Never is too long to wait. I need you desperately, I need to feel you inside me, taking me, making me yours. I need you now, Tim. God, I need you so much."

Laying back on the bed, she pulled him with her until he was laying over her prone form. 'Now, Tim, please," She begged him her body arching up to him as he found and manipulated her clit. "I need to be joined with you now!"
 
It was such delicious torture, yet it was a moment he wanted to savor, a moment that doesn't come often on a lifetime, and he knew it. His emotions were at fever pitch, a comibination of his burning need for her and his growing love, mixed with his joy at having been reborn due to this woman's love ands forgiveness. And overwhelming this was his sheer animal need for her, a feeling he hadn't experienced in so long and one that made him feel terribly alive and aware of the joy he was capable of.

She could not have been more beautiful in her need, her own desire for him, and that was what he wanted to capture forever in his memory, the vision of her reaching for him, offering herself to him, giving him her ultimate gift.

She lie on her back, her eyes open and pleading with him, her hips moving slightly in anticipation of his touch, and he couldn't stand it any longer. He fell forward on top of her, catching himself with his arms. Immediately she gripped his upper arms, digging her naials into his muscle with her need. he lowered his face to hers for one last kiss before he took her, before things changed forever between them, and as his mouth met hers she moved somehow, inched down on the bed or pushed up but somehow he found himself already in place, pressed against the vestibule of her sex, the sensitive head of his cock just nestling in the warm moistness of her pussy, spreading her slightly.

She broke the kiss so she could gasp in excitement and then they both pushed together.

"Oh God! Tim! Oh my God!"

"Jennifer! Yes, Jennifer!"

She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip but even so could not represss the smile of joy on her face as he sunk into her and she gave herself over to the feel of him entering into her body.

All her adult life sex had always had an ulterior motive, a sort of economic or mercenary dimension to it that kept her from totally letting go. Always she'd had to keep herself remote from what was happening, to make sure she or her partner got their fair value from it. But now she gave herself to it without reserve, with no expectation of anything other than the selfish joy of giving and taking, and it was exquisite.

Perhaps it was because she had nothing to prove to him, or nothing to lose. Or perhaps it had been the emotional wringer they'd both been through, all the fear and anger and tension, but she felt as though every nerve in her body was alive and humming with peasure, reaching out for him. He sunk into her, stretching her, filling her with his male hardness and she reveled in it.

He lie atop her gathering her close in his arms, making her feel at once protected and wildly free. His weight upon her, his strength was intoxicating, his moans in her ear as he delighted in the feel of her pussy around him were music in her ears.

"Oh God Jen, you feel so good, so fucking good!"

She smiled with triumph as she felt his hips butt against her. He was all the way in, entirely in her, basking in her warmth and firm softness. She felt him flex inside her and gasped again. She wanted to tell him how good he felt too, but she couldn't find the words. She just wrapped her arms around his broad back and felt his body, as if she weren't quite sure that he was real, as if this might be a dream.

"Just stay there." she whispered. "Just stay like that for a minute. You feel so good, Tim."

He was already out of breath, just from the pleasure of her embrace. He rested on his forarms and held her face between his hands as he kissed her tenderly, her lips, her cheeks, her eyes, each kiss like a burning brand. She moved her hips experimentally, and was rewarded with such a deep burst of pleasure that she had to cry out softly. He filled her completely. With every breath she felt him there inside.

Now she could not resist. She had to roll her hips to feel him inside, and her movements brought a deep moan of surrender from him.

"Jen, I can't," he said. "I can't wait. I've got to fuck you. I've got to have you!"

She nodded in her excitement. "Yes. Yes..." as she felt him withdraw. hesitate, then plunge into her again in gesture of selfish possession that thrilled her deeply. She opened her legs wide to him, wanting him to take her hard and recklessly, to show her how much he wanted her, how desperately he needed her, and he didn't disappoint her.

In a few strokes he had gone from the gentle lover to a savage animal, overcome by his need for her body. He didn't mean to hurt her, to be so rough, but as he saw the look of rapture on her face he was overcome with a need to possess her, to take her hard, to make her feel him.

The passion behind his fucking was like fuel to her own fire, and she loved feeling his male strength. She reached down and ran her hands over his ass, feeling the bunched muscles there clench as he sent his cock home into her again and again. His arms and shoulders were as hard and immovabel as rock, and she loved the feeling that there was no escape for her, that he was so strong, so powerful, so insistent.

She began to fuck back at him, matching him, bith of them crying out every time he hit bottom and his pubis smashed into hers, flattening her pussy as his pubic hair tickled her exposed clit. He dropped his head to her chest, kissing and licking her breasts, catching a nipple between his lips and flailing it with his tongue uintil she squealed.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, raked her nails down his chest, spurred him on with her ankles, her message always the same: take me, take me, take me! as they built to a frenzy of excitement.

"I'm going to come, Jennifer! I'm going to come!" he whispered hoarsely in her ear.

Chills raced through her body. She'd never heard anything so exciting. "Oh yes! Do it! Come for me, Tim! Come for me!" she gasped, licking his face like an animal as she worked her hips against him.

He was panting like a locomotive now, and he began to slam into her with wild force as his orgasm built. She mewled with excitement as she felt him grab her buttocks and pull her up even tighter up to him, holding her ass off the bed as he thrust deep inside her, his body going rigid, taut as a bow string and he cried out. She felt the dim but distinct throbbing deep within her as he came and she thought she might pass out from pleasure.

"Oh yes, baby! Oh yes!" she cried. "All of it, Tim! All of it!"

Pasnting and groaning he held her impossibly tight as all his frustration and tension, all his fears and loneliness poured out into her and she took it gladly, thrilled to be the agent of his pleasure.

"Oh Jennifer, Oh Jennifer!" He kept repeating as she felt his spasms subside, his tension replaced by a trembling calm as she held him to her, comforting him with caresses and kisses.

She felt the tears starting to come again and she did not know why, and she did not care. Just as he had poured out all his tension and anguish into her, now she somehow released the the same feelings to him, and she could almost feel the fear and tightness leave her as well.

He lie atop her catching his breath as she stroked his body tenderly, basking in his own pleasure.

He looked at her with concern. "I'm sorry, Jennifer. You didn't..."

"Shhh." she said to him seoftly. "That's okay. I never do. Not like that. It's okay, Tim. Really. I feel wonderful."

He rolled off her and she winced as he left her. He took her hand in his and kissed her.

"Just hold me for a while?" she asked, and he gathered her into his arms, pressed her to his chest where she could hear his heart hammering so fast she grew worried for him.
 
Jen lay there luxuriating in his embrace. He would never know what he had just brought into her life. The love making had been slow and gentle at times and hard and passionate at other times. Never had she felt able to be so open and vunerable to anyone. And at the end he had done something that no other man in her life had done. He had express concern that maybe she had not been sexually fullfilled.

With a small sigh she snuggled closer to him, her back against his chest sleepy and satisfied. A lethargy came over her-a pleasant warm feeling that infused her whole being. For the first time she was not worried about waking up to her day and putting on her act for anyone. For once she could just be herself lying in this man's arms and she felt she could just stay here forever. If only the world wouldn't intrude on this precious moment.

Placing a small kiss on one of his arms the vauge thought that she should rise and shower came to her. Smiling, she refused to move from this comfort that she had found. Somehow she did not feel in a hurry to wash Tim's scent from her and she actually enjoyed sensations that told her she had just been made passionate, wild love to. With a yawn she felt her eyelids droop though she fought to stay awake and enjoy the moment.

A small fear inside of her prodded at her conciousness and the thought that she would wake to find that either this had been a dream or he had thought better of his words of passion in the light of a new day nagged at her.

Sleepily she mumbled,"Tim...tell me you will be here when I wake up. Tell me this isnt all a dream." But before he could answer she had drifted off into slumber.
 
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