Those feelings grew over the next few days, though she could never put a car to the feeling. Many times she felt she was on the verge of identifying her imagined pursuer, but then the car in question would turn off.
Finally she shrugged it off as her own paranoia. A few more weeks passed and the feelings finally passed.
It was a Friday when things seemed to change. Out of nowhere she got two dozen roses delivered to her office, but without a card, which piqued her curiosity to no end. Frustratingly the delivery service had broken the stem of one of the roses, leaving it to hang limp and rather lifeless.
Getting home in the middle of a horrendous rainstorm did not improve her day in the slightest. Not only was it the beginning of yet another slow weekend without a date or any real plans, but the forecast called for more of the same. Kristi realized that she wouldn't even have the chance to work on her tan.
So she spent her Friday night watching a Mad Men marathon. At least, she thought, Jon Hamm gave her at least enough man candy to feel slightly hot and bothered. After running through around seven of her favorite episodes and half a bottle of her favorite red wine she decided to call it a night and slipped into bed. Usually it took more wine to really make her feel this tipsy, but no matter.
She'd only been in bed a few moments, barely enough time to enjoy the feel of her satin sheets against her silky legs, when she noticed something. There was an odd glow coming from between the slats of her bedroom closet. Strangely, it wasn't the pale green glow she was used to from the relay box of her security system. Tonight it looked rather orange or perhaps even yellow. Recalling something in the recesses of her mind from the installer that a change in color may be indicating that the batteries needed replacing, she got up to take a look.
Even though Kristi had only been in bed a few minutes she found the need to shake off the cobwebs that were already in her head from both exhaustion and the wine, so she took her time covering the ten feet over to her closet door.
She swore when she was only a yard away she heard a quick intake of air — and the orange glow went out.
Suddenly full of fright, Kristi turned and made to go for her nightstand and her cell phone. After only turning around and taking a step she heard a crash from behind her. Knowing it was the closet door she lunged across her bed for the phone but felt something suddenly grab her by the ankles. Twisting in mid-air, she landed on her back on her bed. The phone was still tantalizingly out of her reach.
Looking down, she saw a figure clothed entirely in black at the foot of her bed with one arm firmly locked around her feet and ankles. Her nostrils were suddenly filled with the scent of stale sweat and pure hatred.
"Fuck!" she screamed, trying to kick herself free and give her enough traction on her smooth sheet to reach the phone. "What the hell do you want, you crazy fuck!"
With that, her dark visitor took one of his hands away from her lower legs and ripped off the woolen mask which had covered his head.
"Hello, love," Mark said. "Thought you'd be rid of me so soon, my sweet?"
"What the hell are you doing here? I told you I don't want to see you!" As soon as she'd said it, Kristi realized how insipid she sounded, but she could also tell that she was on the verge of total panic. She'd had fun with Mark and even slept with him; and now what were his plans?
"Well that is for me to know and you to find out," Mark replied, though somehow without the implied silliness of the childhood taunt. "I shan't be ignored, Kristi."
"What do you want? I will do anything, just don't hurt me!"
"Well," Mark replied, in a voice thick and heavy with scorn. "That is something we can talk about."
Mark relaxed the grip his one remaining arm had on Kristi's legs, and she took this as her queue. She lunged across the bed for her nightstand, but Mark was faster. Falling almost on top of her, he knocked her cell phone off the table and against the wall, and Kristi could tell from the sound that the case had come off and the battery was most likely disengaged as well.
But the phone hadn't been what Kristi was going for. She knew she wouldn't have time to dial 911 before Mark took the phone from her. Rather, her hand reached out for the wrought iron lamp base which was just beside the phone. Given Mark's preoccupation with the phone, she felt her fingers wrap around the base firmly.
In a split second, Kristi pulled herself up on one elbow and with the other arm backhanded Mark in the skull with the heavy metal lamp. Nothing happened.
Mark slowly turned to look at Kristi. He tried to say something, but whatever it was, she never heard it. As the first syllable started to come out, she hit him again with the lamp. The flow of blood which had started with the first blow became a torrent with the second. She saw Mark's eyes roll and he gurgled and collapsed on the bed on top of her. With some effort, Kristi kicked his body off of her onto the floor.
She paused a few moments to gather her breath and make sure Mark wasn't moving. He seemed to be breathing, but barely. This was quite fine with her. Realizing she needed to call the police she got up to find the piece to her phone and get them back together.
Standing, she found herself surprisingly woozy from the ordeal — though she thought adrenaline would offset any effects from the wine from earlier. Staggering strangely, she found the back to the phone and eventually the battery.
Then everything went black. She felt the soft pile of her carpet as her face hit it.
Sex in the Naked City — Hearts Burn in a Sleepless City
by Lori Dixon
“Rosebud,” he whispered…
Jane’s head leaned back and she let her hair drop while Jarvis twisted ever so slightly harder. With the other hand, he made circles with his fingertips over her sex and felt the dampness bleed around his digits. Her eye drifted down to the bench and then to the pavement that wrapped around the park. Passing cars and bystanders with one whiskey too many in their bellies slowed as they tried to make out if the illicit sight before them was every bit as tantalizing as it seemed. Jane knew they were being watched and that only made her grow wetter. Jarvis, meanwhile, was too preoccupied with lubricating his good lady to notice the gazes.
“We should go,” Jane grunted through her feelings of delight.
“Go?” Jarvis looked up. “That’s sort of my specialty. Where to?”
“Not far… there isn’t much light back there,” she replied while signaling the park behind them.
Jane led Jarvis deeper into the trees that surrounded their encounter on the bench. The long, hard branches growing out from the limbs protected the two lovers as they pushed each other against a mighty oak. Only a slither of moonlight was available to guide them towards their impending ecstasy. Jarvis kissed Jane’s neck. In turn, she gently unzipped his trousers and reached inside. He was well hung and well stiff.
She dug her palms deeper after releasing the snake from its cage. The rocks beneath the staff dangled right into her grip. Jane pinched the skin and felt them slip back and forth between her fingers. Jarvis straightened his back and sighed. A cool gust of breath emanated from his teeth. Jane let herself drop down while maintaining her grip on Jarvis’ package. He took his hand and ran it through her hair, resting it firmly against her skull. He stifled his moans as she worked his shaft. His soft groans reached all the way down to her thighs as they tensed up according to his own pleasure.
Like Jane’s, Jarvis’ blood rushed madly over the possibility of an officer or a sinister teen catching the two in the act. He throbbed more and more as the thought raced around his head, then down to his stomach, and finally down to the recesses of his loins. He started to shake.