He was suddenly on top of her, apparently willing to surrender his badge, ripping her blouse and throwing it to the floor. He lifted her up in his strong arms as she wrapped her legs around him, then swallowed his lips with hers.
Her tongue darted into his mouth, and his fucked hers right back, their lips mashed against one another hard enough to turn purple. He threw her on the bed and she reached for the top button of his pants, like a starving street urchin reaching for a banana.
He slapped her hand away, freed his cock from his pants by himself with his right hand, grabbed her head with his left and shoved his cock into her hot and hungry mouth, which was waiting in an open O before it got there.
He moaned on entry. She did, too.
Willow started lapping the sides of the shaft like she was trying to keep cream from melting off the side of a cone. She used her mouth as a pussy and fucked Hammer hard enough to charge by the minute, while he surrendered to pleasure.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head and his mouth hung open. Her head bobbed furiously up and down. Agent Hammer suddenly groaned, and his body twitched. Willow had to pull back because the throb of his cock was like an earthquake in her mouth.
The first blast slapped the back of her throat, the second splattered her hair, then as she pulled back further, the next one hit her chin. The next three painted her tits, and the final one landed on her belly button then leaked down to the top of her skirt.
Willow leapt from the bed, peeled her skirt to the floor, then jumped back on the mattress and started jacking Agent Hammer back to a hardened pipe.
It took ten seconds.
He growled, then rolled her over and shoved himself inside her sopping wet hole. The bed was so wet it looked like someone dumped a bucket of water on the top. He hammered her for four relentless minutes until he shot her full of cum, his second orgasm blasting even harder than the first, pooling the puddle below them to a bleed off the side.
It was after the second orgasm when she could see it in his eyes — Agent Hammer was losing all ability to discern fact from reality. She had seen it in Richard’s eyes as well, and had felt it in her own many times, especially in the beginning.
She wasn’t quite sure what was real herself, what was prophecy come true from the images she had broadcast, and what was actually happening in their present reality.
Was she really squatting on the floor with her knees spread apart, stroking his dick with one hand and her cunt with the other. Or sitting on his face, glazing his lips with her glistening juices as she bucked hard on his mouth, twisting her nipples and screaming about the GOD that he was?
She wasn’t sure about the first two, but Willow was sure she was in the thick of reality while riding him reverse cowgirl, wildly thrashing as she stared at herself in the mirror. She screamed, “How would you like to shove that hammer of yours right up my ass and cum in me so hard I fly off the bed?”
Agent Hammer pulled himself from her pussy, and flipped her onto her stomach. The blended sensations of warm and cool cum on the sheets were a pleasant tickle against her titties.
The tickle was the last thing she felt before Agent Hammer’s cock wormed its way into her asshole and sent her into another one of the evening’s countless orgasms.
She screamed in the hotel room, and even louder in her mind.
She was writhing around in the front of Heaven’s Gates, about to roll over to the clouds on the other side. She wiggled her ass like a demon, milking his dick to its final blast. The next one would kill him, and make her infinitely stronger.
Willow wiggled faster.
It wasn’t her fault, she told herself. It was the Red Breath.
She could feel him tightening behind her. In another few seconds her ass would be dripping and Agent Hammer would be dead.
He’s a loose end, he has to go.
It was a memory that saved him, one she wasn’t supposed to see.
Sometimes you couldn’t help what you saw or remembered during sex, and Agent Hammer couldn’t help but remember his first time, with his neighbor Caitlin, the two of them laying side by side, with him all starry-eyed. Hammer turned from Caitlin and looked into Willow, right into the center of everything she was.
No, I’m not a murderer.
Not of good people, and not if I can help it.
Agent Hammer wasn’t Richard, or any one of his half dozen hotel sluts.
Willow pulled away from Brad’s dick, just in time. He looked at her dazed, like a cartoon character with whistling birds circling his head, in a long, lingering confused moment that seemed to take up half of forever.
His cock suddenly twitched, then sprayed like a sprinkler, splattering the walls with a fresh batch of cum.
He collapsed to the bed, unconscious.
As Willow stared at him, she suddenly realized something. She’d brought him closer to the brink of death than anyone she’d not consumed. And in that moment, where she allowed him to live, she’d also done something else. She’d forged a connection with him. She could feel it, like mother to child.
But this wasn’t just a connection.
There was something else happening, something she couldn’t yet understand, but felt it like blood flowing inside her. And then it dawned on her what she’d done. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she knew it as certain as she knew her name.
Oh my God.
Maybe I should just kill him?
No.
I can’t.
Willow quickly dressed, then went to the closet and removed Richard’s briefcase. She then found a notepad and pen and scribbled a note to Agent Hammer, which she stuck on the mirror in the bathroom.
Willow slipped into the hallway, and closed the door behind her.
The only problem with not feeding on Agent Hammer’s lifeforce, was that it left her weak, and needing to satisfy the hunger immediately. She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander the floor, searching.
She found what she was looking for two rooms down. She knocked on the door and a woman with long dark hair and yin-yang tattoo on her left bicep opened the door wearing a white tank top and silk pink shorts.
“Hello,” Willow said. “Wanna party?”
As if the woman had a choice.
Chapter Six — Brad Hammer
back to the present…
Agent Brad Hammer stared at the dead body in his bathtub. Eyes open, staring dead at him.
This was one memory he couldn’t remember.
What the hell? Did I do that?
His stomach churned and he felt like he might puke. The feeling passed as he forced himself to confirm what he knew. He lifted her wrist and felt like puking again. The girl had no pulse.
No way I did this. No fucking way.
What the hell is happening?
Who’s setting me up?
His mind flashed on the woman from last night — Willow.
Had she killed this woman? Had she also killed Dr. Madsen and the other women?
What the hell is going on?
His cell phone buzzed from somewhere in the room. Brad nearly jumped from his skin. He raced to his bed, and saw the phone’s light shining through his pants pocket, laying on the floor.
He fished the phone from his pocket, nearly dropping it, before turning it over to see from the screen who was calling.
It was a message from his partner, Grayson.
“Where are you Hammer? We’ve got a plane to catch and you’re not answering your phone. I’m going down to get some coffee. Get your shit together and get the briefcase. I’ll be up in 15 minutes. You better not be drunk again.”
The briefcase!
He knew what he’d see before he even checked the closet. The briefcase, along with the notes, the cash, and the cigarettes were gone.
Also gone… his department-issued computer.
Oh fuck.
He ran back into the bathroom, and looked again at the note, wondering what the hell it meant.