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Murdering In Numbers: The Madness Begins

Copyright © October 2007, Destiny Blaine

Cover art by J.L Foster © October 2007

Amira Press

Baltimore, MD 21216

www.amirapress.com

ISBN: 978-1-934475-25-6

No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Amira Press.

Dedication

For the readers out there who are looking for a little more spice in their suspenseful short stories ... this one is for you!

Part One

The Beginning of a Madness

Chapter One

Roxanne Blake peered from behind the curtains, watching her party guests pour onto the lawn. The manicured grounds were perfect for the party ahead. Potted plants lined the cobblestone walkway and would later be bright with the jack-o'-lanterns scattered along the pathway. The property quickly became decorated with costumes indicative of the holiday, and Roxanne couldn't help but think about the tricks and treats that the night ahead held.

Roxanne spotted Becky. Watching the way her friend moved with her short legs outrunning her body, Roxanne laughed out loud. With her latest man in tow, Becky walked swiftly, never bothering to look over her shoulder with so much as a flirtatious grin. He looked pretty cute from where Roxanne stood, but her view was limited by the oak tree directly in front of the window.

Becky's flame was dressed in Batman duds, so a true evaluation of how cute he might be was dictated by the great package in the front. It was pressing through the costume without any reservations. Roxanne sighed before setting the binoculars down on her dressing table. Becky must have picked the costume out. “Reminder to self: Tell Becky best friends always share,” she called out to an empty room and began straightening up the evidence left behind by a woman who had been on a maddening mission to dress up perfection.

Roxanne loved a good party—especially when she was the one in control of the guest list. When she wasn't the one controlling the invitations, there wasn't anyone in the world any better at it than Becky. The girls always made sure that the women were outnumbered by at least five to one and took care to invite the most eligible bachelors in the area. Not to mention an occasional married man here or there just to tempt the poor guys with sinful pleasures and to spite the women who married them.

Becky had been Roxanne's best friend since they were both eight years old, and the girls had been hell on wheels since meeting one another. They loved trouble, and if it wasn't following them, they were chasing it down. It had always been that way with the two of them. They were thrill-seekers, and they made sure there were plenty of thrills to find.

Even as they aged, they still pursued the next adventure, the next big turn-on, and they loved to throw a talk-of-the-town party. It was Halloween, so it was the perfect time to throw a Roxanne and Becky extravaganza.

After one hundred invitations were signed, sealed, and delivered, another few went out the door, too, because the girls always thought of someone else to invite. No one could be left out when they decided to party. By the time night rolled around, two hundred guests were expected to flood the Blake home.

As the party began, it was obvious to Roxanne that there would be plenty of men for the taking and she silently congratulated herself for still having the “It” factor. She knew she had it. She was a man magnet—and why wouldn't she be? Roxanne offered men more than they could possibly find anywhere else and made no apologies for being what some would call a “loose girl."

Roxanne needed to meet someone who fulfilled her every need. She turned away from the view on her lawn long enough to check out her ass in the mirror. She'd put on a few pounds recently, but she thought her tush looked better than it ever had. Great for the push, she thought. If she could only find someone to help her out with her sexual thoughts ASAP, then the party would be a great success.

"There you are!” Becky popped her head through the doorway, looking perky in her cheerleading costume. “The hostess should be at the door greeting the guests."

Roxanne laughed. “Yes, darling, but this hostess is checking out the meat market from the best seat in the house. I want to see which man is going to have my undying attention tonight.” She pointed to the binoculars. “Care to inspect their goods before they enter our haunted web?"

Becky pulled on her friend's arm to lead her to the awaiting party. “Come on. There are plenty of men ready to make you their next big-boy toy, but they're downstairs. You can't get up close and personal with a hot, horny hunk all the way up here. Get your ass moving so you can find Mr. Right."

Roxanne moaned. “Why can't you just find one that needs to get laid and tell him I'm bent over the balcony railing waiting for him?” She purred before she flashed pearly whites. “I could use a good, hard dick about right now."

Becky rolled her eyes. “When don't you want a good stiff one?"

Roxanne stopped her pursuit forward and pulled her friend back. “You know, you make a pretty good point. Maybe there is something wrong with me.” She looked at Becky through empty eyes before bursting into hysterics.

They laughed as they walked down the spiral steps leading to the party. “So, friend, what's your pleasure? We have Zorro, Batman, Robin, Tarzan, The Scary Green Thing walking around, or The Ghost, who, I'm sure, has your center warming as we speak. I know you. You're already thinking sex, so I can imagine what seeing a sheet is doing for you.” The words tumbled from still lips behind a smile that never broke.

The perky, little dressed-up cheerleader taunted Roxanne with provocative glances and cute suggestions. “Now, let's think about this for a second.” She paused, lowered her voice, and whispered, “Who is dressed for success? Who here looks as if they're here for the mere purpose of getting fucked?” She let out a half-squeal and a distorted giggle. Some would have mistaken it for a ghastly sound appropriate for the holiday.

Stopping on a landing that divided two sections of steps, the girls checked out all of their guests from high above the foyer and living area. Everyone had gone the extra mile to find great-looking costumes. Roxanne's get-up, a sexy mobster woman outfit, looked hot enough to ignite the flames of hell, but she was trying to keep her ego in check. She bought the costume portion, which was nothing more than a pinstripe suit made of black and white spandex, at a local Halloween Shoppe. The one-piece dress came down to right below the crotch, leaving very little to the imagination, just the way she liked it.

Roxanne wore no pantyhose—she certainly didn't need them for support—and, besides, her legs were tanned. Spiked heels showed off long legs, and the whole costume screamed “sex.” She toted a mini-Uzi, which was made of plastic, and her gangster hat would have made “Bugsy” Siegel jealous. She was one hot mobster momma, and no one had to tell her as much.

When she entered the room, the young woman caught a lot of whistles. Since she had everyone's attention, she wasted no time in welcoming her guests. “I want to thank everyone for coming tonight.” She stopped and took her time tracing her candy apple-shaded lips with a daring tongue. “We're going to have a delicious time. If you like football, the guest house is open and you'll find beer on tap and munchies waiting for you.” She looked around at some of the men in the room and added, “There, you can watch as the Dallas Cowboys get their asses stomped by San Diego.” Laughter filled the room while she quickly added, “And what nice asses they all have."

"For everyone else who is here for a party, the music is phenomenal. We have Dire Need with us tonight out by the pool. Ladies, the lead singer will get you so wet that you won't be interested in swimming. That's a promise.” She purred as she said it, and Becky took over the floor.

"Of course, those of you who want to swim are welcome to do so, and the hot tub is always nice if the cool air gets the best of you.” This time of year sported unpredictable weather, but after a scorching eighty-nine degrees earlier in the day, it was likely the pool would be a welcome area of the party until night enveloped them all. Then, the hot tub would be the hub of sexual bliss, transforming into a showcase of topless, parading females and males with perpetual hard-ons.

Roxanne and Becky were quite a pair. They told their guests where to find various foods, drinks, and entertainment. They promised that the party would be a thrilling night, not soon forgotten. Some of the guests who weren't used to them, or who didn't know them well, immediately thought they might be lesbians, as the girls posed provocatively and rubbed each other lovingly on the shoulders or slapped each other's asses. They did that sort of thing all of the time to generate whispers. If the cameras came out of the closet, look out, because the girls could put on a show.

"Before we begin, I just want to say, my best friend and well, ummm...” Becky licked her lips and eyed Roxanne up and down, “one of the sexiest women alive, is very much available. If any of the more masculine creatures are eligible and interested in going in for a taste, see me and I'll introduce you to her.” The guys immediately began checking her out again, but only one had Roxanne's eye, and she'd already locked in on his stare, quickly returning one of her own.

His costume was well chosen, and he was headed straight for her as she hit the last step. His handsome looks were alluring, but there was something else about him that drew her in. His walk was slow and calculated; he wanted her to want him. Roxanne Blake recognized a man in heat. He had a quiet confidence, but she was sure of his sexual charisma, too. Maybe its presence was dormant, but it was there. Ah, yeah, its existence is there. Roxanne refused to let her eyes leave him while she talked to the person beside her. Roxanne wasn't sure what she was saying, but she was speaking, playing the part of busy hostess.

"I'm Spenser Scott."

He extended his hand to her, and she shot him the best devilish grin she could find. “Spenser Scott? Well, Mr. Scott, do you always make a habit of lying to a woman, because you look very much like Captain Jack Sparrow to me."

They both laughed, and he nodded, adding, “I'll lie to you anytime you give me the chance."

Becky was still next to her but smart enough to find an escape route. She patted Roxanne's backside with a playful pat before whispering, “Check out what he's toting behind; oh, but what I'd give to play with that!” She scooted by them and turned around to get a good view of Spenser's firm ass just long enough for her date in the cape to catch her doing it.

Roxanne took Spenser by the arm and asked if he came to the party with anyone. She'd already assumed he hadn't, but she didn't want to be mistaken. He said that he had, in fact, agreed to accompany his sister.

Roxanne looked at him seductively. “Poor sis, she'll have to find someone else to entertain her tonight, because I can tell you right now, I'm going to be your entertainment."

His eyes scanned over her for an obvious appreciative inspection before they lingered for a minute on the hem of her costume. “I'm sure you will leave nothing to the imagination and plenty to memory."

Roxanne led him to the patio, which had already become the focal point of the party as a makeshift dance floor. She threw her arms around his neck and began to move to the beat. “Do you like to dance, Jack?” Her head rolled from side to side. To others, she probably appeared exasperated, but she was in fact nothing more than one sex-depraved kitten just clawing her way into the man who would soon give her more than a few strokes of affection.

He nodded. “I'm learning to love it."

She turned around and moved more seductively as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He nuzzled her hair for a moment as she swayed her body with his. When she was sure he was close enough to hear her, she pushed in on him slightly and offered a bit more. “Oh, and by the way, you are going to love it, and you're right, I'll give you plenty to store in memory.” She pressed into him again and then moved away, dancing into the crowd.

Spenser followed her through the maze of people, and when he spotted her, he found her kissing a man who looked like he might have been twice her senior. A woman was holding the man's hand, talking to another lady nearby. Spenser caught Roxanne's eyes as the gentleman sporting white hair began to move into her, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was at the party with another date. She continued making out, if that's what it was called, with another man and never left Spenser's stare as she did it. He motioned to her, licking his lips, perhaps suggesting to her that his kisses promised to deliver more if she'd just find her way back to him.

"She likes to play games.” Startled, Spenser turned around and saw he was face to face with Batman. “I date her best friend. I should know.” Before Spenser could ask any questions, the Batman figure disappeared under his cape, quickly blending into the midst of the party. When Spenser turned back around, his temptress was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, there,” Becky whispered in his ear. “Your sister told me I might find you over here. Where's Roxanne? I thought she would've been locked in firmly to your hips by now."

He laughed. “You girls are quite the party animals, aren't you?"

Becky had a plate full of chocolate-covered strawberries. With one hand, she waved to a passing guest and with the other one, offered him the plate before snatching up a piece of fruit. “Open up, luscious. Here's a taste of ecstasy.” She was enticing when she offered it, but when he reluctantly opened his mouth, she shoved in the berry and moved on.

The sun was going down, and the lights around the patio were beginning to draw in the crowd. There was a band promised—one that, apparently, many in the crowd knew something about, because, once the lead singer took the stage, the loud chatter died down to a low buzz.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm Colton Sheridan—and we are Dire Need.” The stereo sounds faded, and the band began to play. Why don't we skip right to it? Come on. You know you want me. So, come on, baby, let's just get down to it.

In front of the band, Spenser saw her open up the crowd, moving seductively toward him. Her nod was deliberate. Slow to seduce. Her body took on a more subtle approach. Cautiously lingering one minute and then aggressively moving closer the next.

We could take all night, but why waste the time? Come on, baby. Let's just get down to it.

The music pulled in more and more people. Everyone wanted to dance to Dire Need, and the temptation ignited by the music turned the party into a mesmerizing dance floor closely resembling an uninhibited public display of lust.

She motioned for him, and he chuckled as he moved toward her.

Roxanne decided he looked a lot like Johnny Depp. He had shoulder-length hair and dreamy bedroom eyes. He took her by the waist and kissed her neck as he moved into her with the music.

This is it. It's time to decide. Do you want to take all night? Come on, baby, don't put up a fight. Let's just get down to it.

She moved with ease against him. She fingered the band on his pants right below his belly button and just above what she knew was hardening by the second.

Spenser's reply could be read as an explicit call for better opportunities. “Don't ... unless you plan to do something about it."

She was surprised by his instructions. She stopped short of sliding her hand into his pants and reaching for what she wanted. What she fully intended to have.

They played their little game on the dance floor, and she continued to tease him until she saw Becky. Roxanne gave her a wink and rolled her neck back in slow motion. Within seconds they had Captain Jack sandwiched. Becky was behind him, careful to let her body only brush past him while her girlfriend wasted no time grinding against him. When Roxanne felt the bulge in his pants harden to her satisfaction, she winked again at her submissive accomplice and Becky disappeared.

They'd done this before. He probably knew as much. Roxanne wanted her men to know that when she bedded them, there wasn't anything she wasn't willing to try and she certainly didn't want to be mistaken as an amateur.

* * * *

The song had ended by the time Roxanne led her pirate across the lawn and into the house. They went through the front entrance. He sighed out loud as he watched her take her hat off. He mindlessly climbed the stairs behind her, watching as she allowed her golden hair to fall down around her shoulders.

"Roxanne, great party.” She smiled at a passing couple as they complimented her.

Spenser watched as she stopped a couple from making out at the top of the steps. “Care to share?” The busty woman dressed in a flapper costume laughed and moved out of the way. Roxanne kissed his neck and whispered in his ear, “Make this a good ten-second show, and I'll owe you."

He cupped her face and began to ravish her lips. Spenser stood by and watched again as another man indulged in what he wanted all to himself. He backed up against the wall as the flapper tried to make small talk with him. Roxanne's eyes never left her ultimate prey, her pirate for the night. When he couldn't take it anymore, he took the young woman in front of him and wrapped her up in his arms. He began to trace his tongue up and down her neck.

Roxanne looked on. True sexual hunger drove her away from the mouth tempting her.

Just when he was ready to taste another's moistened lips, Roxanne eased in beside them. “Thanks for sharing, but this one is all mine.” She took his hand and led him to her bedroom.

Once inside, she locked the door and began to shut the curtains. She looked below and caught Becky's eyes right before she pulled the drapes together.

"You're something else, aren't you?” He moved slowly toward her as she waited by the window. “You like to see how far you can push. You like a man to watch you, wanting you with every inch you give him. How much do you pay those men to come to your parties? Hmm?” He moved close to her with a whisper into her neck. Then a kiss along the trail leading to her chest. “I bet you pay them a hefty sum to tantalize the men you plan to fuck."

Her eyes sparkled mischief, hinting at better possibilities looming.

He knew she was turned on by his approach with her. He could almost read her devious little mind, and he could only hope it was as dirty as it was tortuous. She'd proven how twisted she could be. He only hoped she would be as erratic when he dipped in for a closer inspection of her inner gravitation.

"Tell me something, Ms. Blake. How were you so sure you could turn me on with that show? How were you completely convinced that you were doing something I would find irresistible?” His throaty call was charming enough, but when his arms pulled her securely against his body, there wasn't anything she wouldn't do for him in that moment. He could sense it.

He continued with verbal hints of a more intimate solicitation. “How could you be sure I would want to end up right here with you?” His body knew it even if the evidence of his excitement didn't show off enough on its own.

She reached down between his legs and felt his hard cock through the material of the Jack Sparrow costume. “I'm sure now. Oh, baby, you know I'm sure.” He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head. He tried again, and she resisted him once more.

"You want me to just look at you? Is that what you want? Okay then, let me look. Let me watch you."

She licked her lips before hissing against his and kissed down to his stomach and back up again, teasing him with promises of things to come when material barriers weren't an obstacle. She told him to lie down on the bed, but he resisted the urge to follow her request and instead instructed her to sit down on the edge of it. Her mouth was warm and moist as she watched him unzip his pants. He bent down to kiss her neck, and she stroked his length, feeling the heat of his cock rising into her palm's light caressing.

He stood back up after another kiss attempt was turned away, leaving his erect cock directly in front of a perfectly luscious mouth. She locked eyes with him and began to lick the tip of his dick.

"You know, I love it when a man can see what I'm capable of doing. When he watches me suck in his best.” She licked all around his dick, taking in the size before the whole of it. The obvious empowerment of it all driving her forward, fueling desires.

She sucked the head of it into her mouth for a brief minute and then released it for a once-over from a most willing tongue. He was excited by what she had in store for him, but his body was saying it couldn't handle much more of her undivided attention. He grew harder as she slid her wet lips around his prized possession.

She sucked him all the way into the depths of her mouth and then released him again. She continued circling the head with soft moaning before capturing it again and again for a deep-throat signaling.

She moved back slightly onto the bed. “Do you want a taste?” She offered herself to him like she was serving up the most delicious treat he would ever devour. Her legs fell open to the sides, and she chewed her lower lip, inviting him to indulge. He knelt down next to her and wasted no time pulling her ass to the end of the mattress, pushing her wrinkled skirt further out of the way to find her bare and ready.

Inserting two fingers into her wet center, he watched her head as she tossed her hair back over her shoulders. “Mmmm ... if your dick can do what your fingers can do, we may have to keep you around for awhile.” He looked around, half-expecting someone to join them. She laughed, realizing she had had a Freudian slip. He'd caught the “we” after all.

Enjoying the intense feeling of her walls beginning to move in rhythm with his fingers fucking harder and harder with her approaching orgasm, he left his fingers locked into her dance and began sucking hard on her clit. His teeth tempted her with a nibble, but his tongue did the work.

She twirled his hair in her hands. “I'm not going to come until you fuck me.” Matter of fact, she stated what he probably should know up-front.

He looked up at her and most likely saw the determination in her eyes. His fingers plunged into her faster. “You are going to come, with my mouth tasting every drop of you.” Her head drew back, so he couldn't see her face. “Baby, that feels so good, but I'm waiting for your cock to grind inside of me.” He kissed her inner thighs, with his tongue leading him back into the moist center of her sex.

He licked hungrily as she moved toward the other side of the bed, drawing him onto the mattress with her. Fast hands moved to feel her breasts while his tongue darted again and again inside of her. Nipples hardened beneath the material, and she unzipped her costume for him just in time for him to slide his hand in for a closer touch. The shock of his hands on her breasts caused her to cry out loud as he squeezed gently. She moaned at the touch as he pushed forward for a deeper taste; his swallowing and biting was urging her forward.

She tried to get away from him by moving toward the side one last time. His hands moved swiftly to secure her ass tightly against the bed, and he ate greedily as she came uncontrollably. After her body trembled its last quake, he returned his fingers to prepare her for what lay ahead. He worked her over like a man should, massaging the clit he'd all but abused while she lay lifelessly sprawled out on the bed enjoying the moment.

* * * *

When he couldn't contain his need for one more minute, Spenser moved over her with the force suggesting as much. He mounted her quickly while a hungry mouth ravaged her full breasts. His cock probed its way into her warmth, and he lingered over her for a second or two, staring at what he'd only just defeated. She has such damn white-hot eyes—he almost said it out loud—but she didn't need a bigger ego, so he resisted the urge to tell her.

He fucked her with strides meant to meet an end but with a hope that there wouldn't be a barrier he couldn't break through. He watched her lids open and shut, her eyes bugging during one thrust after another. He bit down on the nipple then moved his mouth and cheek against it. A heartfelt pain caught in her throat as his dick punished her beauty and her sassy little personality. The only time he stopped fucking was when he bit playfully on one nipple or the other.

When he gave her the best fuck she'd had in a long time, he finished with a quickening beat that left thrust after thrust driving into her and moan after moan escaping swollen lips. His and hers were both dry and cracked, the moisture long gone. She moaned out loud. He smirked before finding the force that would seep through them both. She screamed his name, meeting the ripples ravaging their bodies.

A few seconds later, she complimented him. “Not bad. Not bad at all. In fact, that was pretty fucking good.” She seemed to be unashamed and a little interested in judging their performance together before jumping up to gather her clothes.

He watched her as she moved toward the door and laughed out loud for no apparent purpose.

"What's so funny?” She looked at him with a piercing glare.

He laughed harder. “When you called out my name ... you called out Captain Jack."

Chapter Two

Roxanne returned to the party without a moment to spare as the band called for her and Becky to join them on the stage. Roxanne had cleaned up quite well after her quick romp upstairs. She assumed Becky had joined Spenser soon after she left him because they were both pretty convinced he was the type of man with a healthy sexual appetite. She didn't appear, so the band's lead singer addressed Roxanne alone.

"Dire Need wanted to bring you up here tonight to see which one of you ladies would like to sing with us, and since your friend chickened out and doesn't seem to be around, it looks like it's going to be you. What can you sing?” His eyes settled on her perfect chest as she took the microphone, glad to be the center of attention again. “Baby, I can sing anything you want me to sing.” Little did he know, she was a vocal diva—at least in her own mind.

* * * *

He told her he had the perfect song for her and whispered his song choice quickly to the band. The drummer sounded off at one-two-three, and he began with George Michael's I Want Your Sex song. Roxanne knew the lyrics even though it was an older song. With the music beating and Colton eyeing her, she immediately fell into her moves.

The band's leader hunched down with the microphone and extended his leg. She straddled him, making sure he felt her warmth. There was no doubt in his mind. There wasn't anything on underneath her costume. His face, not to mention the more manly area that responded on contact, proved the success of her moves. He was turned on upon command. Just like Roxanne had planned.

His dick was hard, and his desire grew while she played it for all she was worth. She danced around him, shaking her hips in a fashion similar to the pop star Shakira, which allowed him to go right into one of their original numbers suitable for every sway and shake.

After the music ended, Roxanne moved in front of the microphone and announced to all of the ladies that she was going to get the first taste. She blind-sided him with an on-stage kiss, wrapping one leg behind his back as she did.

* * * *

He didn't resist her. Men seldom did. “Meet me on break,” his whisper followed her gyrating hips right off the stage.

As she hit the last step, Batman was there to catch her, and she immediately rubbed against him. “Hey, baby, where's my buddy?"

He rolled his eyes, and Roxanne guessed he probably already knew where her best friend had disappeared. He then put his cape up and used it to disappear into the crowd. As he flew off in one direction, Becky appeared from another with a huge smile.

"I gotta tell you, that date of yours is a freak!” Roxanne stared after the disappearing act of Batman.

Becky's grin widened, “Yeah, but let me tell you, he's got your man beat in the sack. He makes Spenser's tongue feel like sponge cake.” The two girls laughed and began sexy moves and dancing in front of the stage.

Batman finally joined them. “Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you!” His voice was accusing.

Roxanne knew his tone wouldn't fly with her friend, so she retreated by grabbing the arm of a passing guest to chit-chat—but not before she overheard Becky's raised voice. “Don't fuck around with me, man. I've only known you long enough to sleep with you, but not long enough to have you watching my every move."

That's my girl. Roxanne turned to see her storm off and the look coming out from Batman's eyes was one she was ready to act on. Revenge.

Becky shouldn't have told her about the skills of her boyfriend. Roxanne had to have him. If the daggers that he shot toward Becky were any indication, he'd be ripe for a spite-fuck, and the two girls would laugh about it later.

"Ahem...” She cleared her throat and, even with the crowd, knew it was loud enough to get the attention that she wanted. She looked up at her room and tilted her head slightly. “Ready for a little vindication?"

Becky's hurt fellow had piercing eyes that followed hers, and he nodded. They understood one another perfectly, and both made their way to the house. After all, her friend had told her his tongue could do things Spenser's couldn't, so why not try out his dick and be sure it was functional, too?

She went to the top of the stairs and looked in on Spenser. He was sleeping face down on the bed, so she left him alone since the covers over him indicated he'd settled in for awhile. She turned in time to be swooped under Batman's cape.

"Down the hall,” she whispered.

* * * *

They entered the master bath, and Roxanne quickly started a bath, pouring a mountain of bubble liquid into the whirlpool tub. She grinned in a come-here-and-get-me fashion.

"I don't want a bath. I just want a fuck,” he told her.

Prick, she thought to herself, but proceeded to look him up and down without offering to touch him. “I want a bath, and you can watch me take it. After all, you do like to watch, don't you?” She was picking up some of Spenser's words. I like to watch, so everyone else must, she thought.

"What's wrong, baby? So, you didn't know, did you? I saw you watching. I saw you when Spenser was fucking me."

She paused and gave him what she knew he'd mistake for a condescending look before continuing, “You were there in the closet watching it all. Spenser saw you, too. He knew you watched us. I could tell when his cock started pounding me harder that he knew you were there. It excited us both because we knew we were turning you on.” Her voice was low. “Let me ask you something, big boy, where were your hands? Did you have your palm around yourself tugging out the tempo with the squeaks of the bed?"

Batman needed his Batmobile because Roxanne wasn't going to let him flee too easily. She enjoyed every twitch she saw her words bring.

Roxanne reached for him. He stepped back. She continued to lure him with her own driven perversion. “Have you ever watched someone when they didn't know you were there?"

She continued talking to him as she undressed. “Have you ever sat back in a closet or an adjoining room and just gnawed at your lower lip as you watched someone else get hammered? Have you heard their screams?” She laughed wickedly and rolled the words off her tongue, drinking in the imagery she'd created.

Tossing her clothes out of the way, she rubbed her palms over her body. “Have you seen their bodies shake?” She stood before him completely nude and dipped her toes in to test the water before sinking down into the bubbles. She laid her head back and took in the warmth surrounding her. “Tell me, baby. Tell me all about your dirty little secrets."

Roxanne was good at bringing a man to his wobbly knees, and she knew it. She lay in the tub soaking, thinking about every little thing that had to be rolling through the perv's head. Not to mention her own.

"This is what I like about the parties Becky and I have. We start them early, and they go on for hours. It allows us to really enjoy the little things in life, you know—like playing with all the men at the party. We do like to play. I guess you know that already, don't you? Spenser told me you warned him."

She moved her back against the fiberglass tub and pushed her pelvic area up. Soon her breasts cascaded the water and capped the bubbles. They begged for admiration and attention. She let out a knowing sigh when she saw what she was doing to her future fuck.

Batman was horny, and he was definitely rising to the occasion.

She threw a foot over the side of the tub. “Sit down on the side of the tub and finger me.” She ordered him around like a trained dog, but he was very much in control and acted like he had no intention of doing what she told him to do. He probably just wanted to get off and go back down to the party to find Becky.

She caught the look of contempt in his eyes and knew it wasn't what he had in mind. She rose up out of the tub and stood there, striking a pose just waiting for him to get a good look. She moistened her lips as her eyes darkened. “Well, what do you think?” She turned around with her elbows flat against her ribs and her palms upward toward the ceiling. “All for you this time, baby.” She taunted him with the reminder of his previous Peeping Tom escapades. “All for you."

He held his hand out to her, and she stepped out onto the plush white rug.

When Roxanne started to touch his face, he quickly caught her hand. Fumbling to unzip his pants, he twisted her over the side of the tub, holding her firm with one hand.

"Mmmm, you don't want to play gently, do you? I saw it in your eyes downstairs; you want to get even don't you? You know Becky banged Spenser. In fact, I bet you watched him fuck her, too, didn't you?” She laughed out loud and raised her hips. “Why don't you fuck me to get back at her?” He fondled himself for a moment and then thrust into her.

"Mmm ... baby, you don't waste time, do you?” She giggled, realizing she was not only a fuck for retribution but one he'd later be sick about, for Roxanne could see the dislike he had for her.

After a stroke and one grunt, he plunged with two repeats and one loud “Oh, shit!” That was it. He was done. He simply zipped his pants again and left the room.

Roxanne laughed and slid back into the tub. It would have to be the guy's tongue because his dick wasn't anything to talk about.

Soon after her man left the master bath, Becky came in with a twisted little grin. “What the hell are you doing in the tub?” Her costume was snug against her body, and she put her hands on shapely hips, waiting for an answer. She looked like a cheerleader, only the little rah-rah girl seemed to have lost her pom-poms.

Roxanne smirked, “Why, do you want to join me and make all our dreams come true?” They both laughed, and Becky lit a jack-o'-lantern candle next to the bathroom sink.

Becky took a deep breath and shot her friend a daring question. “What if we tried a threesome tonight?” Her face showed some level of seriousness, the playfulness washed completely away with the question she dared to ask.

Roxanne was quiet. “I'll think about it and let you know."

Roxanne placed her forefinger on her cheek and closed her eyes. “Okay, I've thought about it. Want to join me now?"

"Not interested in you, babe, but I know someone who might be!” Becky opened the door and pulled the lead singer of the band into the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she called out, “You two have fun in there!"

Colton Sheridan in all of his rock-star glory stood there for a second looking like he didn't quite know what to do. “Hmm ... well, I ... I'm sort of at a loss for words. She told me to meet you here, but I didn't know I ... well, how about all of this? Hmm ... This is something that's never happened to me before.” Rock star or not, he was entertaining the hell out of Roxanne with his boy-like embarrassment.

Roxanne laughed out loud and leaned her breasts up against the tub, knowing that when she finally pulled away from the side, the effect she wanted would be obvious. Her nipples would be ripe for viewing.

"Darling, let me tell you a little something-something about Becky and myself. Most of our guests in attendance know that Becky and I have the tendency to be promiscuous, but I won't fault you for being unaware of our bad-girl reputations.” She winked, and while she waited for him to speak, thought of something else to reassure him. “Besides, since you didn't know, I won't even give you the first strike. After all, I only bat for home runs and I'd hate to see you strike out."

He stammered for a moment more but peered into the water to catch glimpses of her skin. “I don't know when I've been at such a loss for words."

Roxanne saw his confession as her shot. She stood up and watched as his chin dropped at the sight of her hardened nipples and slender body. “Maybe this will snap you back into reality.” She pointed to her body and moved her own hands down the sides of wet hips.

"What's your pleasure?” She wasted no time in getting him ready, seducing him into an erection. “I know you have a preference. Everyone does. Do you like it on top or on bottom? Up against a wall or seated in a chair? What gets you going, Mr. Lead Singer?"

He swallowed hard before running a nervous hand through his hair. “It's Colton."

Her giggles turned into a whisper as she moved close to his ear. “I'm well aware of who we hired for this gig, Mr. Sheridan. In fact, just so you know, your band was hand-selected based on your good looks."

She began humming the original song that they had opened with earlier in the evening. She now stood behind him and swayed from side to side, rubbing her body over every inch of him as she ground her crotch into his fully clothed ass. “We could take all night, but why waste the time? Come on, baby. Let's just get down to it.” She whispered the lyrics into his ear as her hands slid into his tight leather pants.

"Oh, my go—” he couldn't finish his sentence because she cut him off with a swift tug meant to show her aggressive sexual nature.

She moved to sit down on the edge of the bathtub, then spread her legs wide open. “You have basically three choices here. Since we hired your band to perform out there and not in here,” she pointed to the door before continuing, “my friend will be upset with me if I detain you very long. We don't have all night to do this right now, but would you like a sample of the things I have in store for you?” She knew he would. Men were so damn predictable, and they always thought they had their own special wow-you-before-I-plow-you factor. Roxanne found few who had it. This one could be different, though. One could always hope.

He licked his full lips and rubbed his cock, moving in her direction. The rock star was coming out in him, and he was no longer timid about playing along. She had proven herself capable of bringing out the sexual creature all men possess, and he was going to be hers for the taking.

"They can wait, baby,” he began. “This kind of gig doesn't happen every day.” He bent down to take a bite of her lower lip and moved his knee into her crotch. He rotated his leg into her pussy while his hands played with full breasts.

"So, Mr. Lead Man, what's it going to be? You want to fuck, or do you want me to wrap my lips around you in a way you'll never forget?” It didn't take him long to decide. He dropped his pants, indicating he hoped like hell she was going to make good on her promise.

Roxanne had just tight-lipped his cock when Becky flung the door open and announced it was show-time again.

"Holy shit! Don't you girls ever knock?” He tried to back away, but Roxanne had better ideas. She continued to play havoc on the hard cock in front of her, with the full intent of finishing what had already been started.

Becky grinned. “Let me guess: By the look on your face, I know I'm right. I get my turn first."

Roxanne squinted in her direction. “No way."

"Our guests are asking for the band.” Becky held a smug look that told Roxanne that she'd planned it all along. She wanted Colton first, but she wanted her best friend to know she almost had him first.

The weird games we play, Roxanne congratulated her friend silently.

Roxanne had Colton's dick in her hand massaging it, refusing to let it go back to hide under the modesty of clothing. “Can you take over from here? I'll go stall the crowd since I'm better at it." She watched for a response from the man she held in her hands.

Becky grinned at her. “I caught that, baby."

Roxanne scooted her naked body by Becky, with her costume in tow, grabbing a towel before leaving. She left her friend to take the first grind at Colton. She silently wished she hadn't been so generous. She was still putting her costume on in the dressing area when she heard the acts of passion coming from behind the closed door. Shrugging to herself, she thought maybe she was losing her touch. After all, she remembered a time when they would pull this stunt and the guy would refuse to go along with it. They always wanted Roxanne and generally only agreed to fuck Becky if they couldn't have Roxanne again.

Just as she had started to look away from the mirror one last time, Roxanne heard a toe-curling scream coming from her bedroom. Ignoring the muffled, agonizing sounds of passion she was leaving behind her in the closed bathroom, she sprinted down the hall. There, she found the buxom flapper she'd met in the hallway earlier in the evening. She was standing over Spenser Scott's lifeless body.

"What's going on here?” She scooted by the woman and screamed when she saw a tourniquet wrapped securely around Captain Jack's throat. “Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no. Help! Somebody help! Her screams echoed through the house, and people soon began to pour into the room.

Chapter Three

Spenser's sister was one of the first to arrive. She looked shocked and couldn't seem to keep her balance. Choking on tears and breath alone, she pulled a sheet over his obviously spent body and sat down beside him to cradle his neck in her lap. She wept silently.

As people came in the room to look over them, Spenser's sister looked up at Roxanne with immediate accusations. “Why? Why would you do this to him?"

"I ... I ... didn't!” Fighting her own emotions, Roxanne turned and ran out of the room, bumping into the man who had been with the flapper earlier. “Call the police! Hurry! Call the police!” She ran past several people and straight back into the bathroom to find Becky. Instead, she found her lead singer.

He was sprawled out on the floor with his face down into the rug. He, too, had a tourniquet around his neck, but he also seemed to be gasping for a last sip of air. She quickly turned him over and worked at getting the knots out of it, while screaming for help. “Somebody please help me! I need help in here! This man is dying! Help me please!” She screamed at the empty room and kept working to pull his neck free from the force of the tourniquet. “Hang in there ... help! Help me! Fear overwhelmed her.

Spider-Man came rushing in to save the day, but it was too late. Colton was gone. She tried mouth-to-mouth, but nothing worked. He was dead. She sat on the floor and looked at the singer, bewildered. “Get everyone inside! Lock down the house! No one leaves here until the police arrive! There are enough of you guys to do this! Now, go!"

Spider-Man took off his mask, as had several others who rushed in when Roxanne's screams first rang out. It helped because she was beginning to believe it was all a really bad dream.

The ugly appearance of murder had placed everyone on alert.

Suddenly, Roxanne looked around. “Oh, fuck, where's Becky?” She looked around in a panic. “Someone help me find Becky and see if you can find that crazy lunatic Batman."

A male voice asked her for a better description, but she didn't have one. What should she say? The man with a dick that sickens the one it enters? She was suddenly sick, alright, with just this thought. The nut had used her and Becky to go on a killing spree. Roxanne knew he was a psycho, and what did she do? She provoked him. What kind of fucked-up woman entices a demented brain to act out? Her mind churned as she walked toward the landing overlooking the foyer.

The police were arriving in numbers, and she knew they were gushing in, considering the sirens flooding the streets outside the home. It didn't take them long at all since she lived about a block from the station. She saw them pouring into the house, and, for a moment, she felt as if she were in another world watching a Halloween Horror picture show. She grabbed onto the wall, tracing it with her palm before peering back in at Spenser's lifeless body.

What a waste! He was so nice. He seemed like he would have been a good addition to our growing circle of friends.

She wanted to cry, but the cries would be stifled—so, what point would they really serve?

Roxanne stood in the doorway for a moment and felt like the wooden frame was the only thing holding her up. People scurried by her, oblivious to the fact she was the homeowner. She heard another scream. This time, it was coming from the basement. She ran down the stairs to see Batman swinging from his cape. Below him, a chair was tilted over. He had apparently hanged himself.

Roxanne slumped down onto the floor and buried her face in her hands. What was going on here? Why was all of this happening? She stood up and tried to walk. She fell back down the minute she tried to stand, deciding she was too dizzy to climb the steps anyway.

"Somebody please find Becky!"

A police officer approached her. “Ma'am, is this your home?"

She looked at him blankly.

"Ma'am, we are going to have to ask you some questions."

She looked past him at the man swinging from her basement ceiling. “My best friend was seeing that creep. Find her, please. Please!"

An old family friend finally encouraged her to return upstairs. “Roxanne, you are going to have to calm down.” She lowered her voice and whispered softly, “Spenser Scott's sister is upstairs giving a statement to the police, and they believe you were the last person to see him alive. They also believe you were the last person to see the lead singer.” She put a finger to Roxanne's mouth. “Don't say anything until you have an attorney.” The woman with sensible advice patted her arm and then moved away from her. While she wanted to offer helpful words, staying around for the interrogation was probably out of the question. Roxanne couldn't say that she blamed her or any of the party guests. She wanted to leave, too.

Roxanne sat trembling as detectives ran in and out of her house. She couldn't believe what was happening. It was a dizzy commotion of people and talk and screaming and...

"Ma'am, how many guests did you invite to this Halloween party?” Roxanne heard a gruff voice.

She blankly looked at the man behind the question. “Sir, if you would please help me find my friend, she knows. I don't. She handled the invitations. See, she handles everything. Everything.” That sudden realization shook Roxanne from the inside out.

The officer patted her arm dismissively and told her they would. “I'll be right back, and we'll see if we can find her."

Time clicked away, and one by one, all of the guests were questioned. No one was permitted to leave until he or she went through preliminary questioning. “Ma'am, can you tell me who would've had a motive for killing these three people?"

She heard someone ask a stupid question and turned to point an accusing finger. “I guess it's the freak swinging from the beams downstairs.” She dismissed the cop, then thought better of it, and reached for his arm, “Sir, would you please tell me what you know about my friend? My best friend, Becky, co-hosted the party tonight, and no one has seen her since bodies began turning up all over the place."

"Ma'am, sit tight. We're trying to talk to everyone here right now, and then we'll take you to your friend's house. We don't think she's in any danger. Someone said she left before all of this started."

Roxanne resisted the urge to tell him that wasn't possible because she had left her in the bathroom with Colton when she heard the first scream. Colton. The thought entered her mind, and then she pushed it aside. No way! There was no way Becky did this! She couldn't have done this to these people.

Roxanne watched as her guests were questioned, with scrutiny following all of them. The members of the band marched up the steps to identify Colton Sheridan's body. She saw the contempt in their faces as they walked slowly back downstairs and outside to give their statements.

Finally, she heard Spenser's sister. She was screaming and yelling that she knew who killed him. When Roxanne finally saw Spenser's sister, she wasn't surprised when she pointed to her and shrieked: “She killed him! She did it!"

* * * *

After the initial investigation was over, Roxanne spent the entire night out by the pool waiting for her. Roxanne knew Becky well enough to know that she wouldn't be able to stay away. She walked along the pool and watched for the light to come on in the guest house.

It was something they used to do as kids when Becky would sneak out at night. Roxanne would tell her that whenever she needed a place to go, whenever her life was too tough at home, to go to the guest house. When she did, she would turn on the light so Roxanne would know she was over there.

Roxanne's parents had been very good to Becky and helped her out after her parents were killed in a house fire. They even bought and paid for Becky's first car so she could get a job and drive to school and work. Roxanne couldn't imagine where she was now. She was beginning to worry herself sick. They needed to be together right now. They needed to sort this thing through and figure out the next step.

She walked back into the house and checked all of the doors, noting the police officers sitting in front of her home. One of the detectives thought it might be a good idea to have someone with Roxanne after the crime. Plus, Roxanne thought they really believed she had something to do with the whole scene. If not, they believed they knew who did it—without much room for reasonable doubt.

Jack-o'-lanterns still lit up the neighborhood, and she wished her parents were there to help her through the ugly ordeal. They were in Paris, and she didn't want to call them until she could come to terms with what had happened. They would rush right home, and it wasn't something she needed yet. It would be difficult to let them know that the house they'd given her had become a hunting ground for a sick and wicked mind.

Roxanne walked back into the kitchen and looked out over the lawn. She took a second look and looked away again. She thought she saw a flicker of light but was mistaken. Becky wasn't going to show. She poured herself a scotch and went one last time to take another look. At the back of the house, she saw movement. She stood still, watching as Becky's tiny frame moved into the cottage.

Suddenly, she feared for her. She knew she had to be heart-broken over her boyfriend. Even though they weren't serious, Becky grew attached to everyone in her life. And he'd been around longer than most. His cape still hung from the rafters in her basement, and Becky would want confirmation. Roxanne couldn't let her see the remains of his clothing there.

She'd want to go to him or see what happened, but she wouldn't understand. No, Becky didn't have the capacity to understand. She had always been so fragile. She depended on Roxanne for everything, and Roxanne relied on her more than she knew. Still, it was her turn to take care of things; she knew she had no other choice but to go take care of Becky completely.

She mixed another drink and made her way toward the cottage. She barely had a chance to walk inside when Becky flew into her arms. “I was so scared.” She was shaking and cold.

"I know, baby, I know.” Roxanne hugged her friend tight. She looked at her with love in her eyes. In that moment, though, she felt pity for her more than anything else.

"They had to die. You knew they'd have to die, too. You could have stopped it. You could have stopped it if you'd only tried. You knew I couldn't take seeing you with someone else."

Roxanne rocked her back and forth. “I know, baby, I know. It won't happen again.” Roxanne's hand moved down her friend's back, calming her with her touch.

Becky moved her hand to touch Roxanne's face, and when she did, she realized her face was damp.

"You've been crying?” Becky cupped her face in her hands. “I've made you cry?"

For the first time in their lives, Roxanne saw the look of lunacy in her friend's face and realized she was about to commit the ultimate act of betrayal that would tear her friend's life apart. She'd left her with no other choice. If they'd talked about things, then maybe it could've worked out differently, played out more appropriately.

"You know I did this for you, don't you?” Becky sobbed and asked her again as her head leaned against Roxanne's chest in search of comfort. “All of them, all of them have been for you. Since high school, whenever we picked up those guys in strange towns, I would go back for them. I couldn't stand to think one of them would take you away from me.” Becky's speech indicated she was nervous. She was scared.

Roxanne sensed it. What was taking them so damn long?

"Do you understand?” Her sobs stopped abruptly, and she glared at her friend as anger consumed her. “You'd watch me and want the guy. I'd watch you and want to be with you."

Roxanne understood that now. She didn't know it before, but she now knew, without a shadow of doubt, Becky had killed for her.

Becky turned her back to her and asked slowly, “Have I done all of this for nothing? Are you ever going to see me as your life-partner? Are you ever going to love me?"

Roxanne turned toward her again, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Becky, I do love you. My heart is breaking for you. You're my best friend, but I don't love you in a sexual way. I didn't know you had feelings for me. I would've never had you watch me with someone in bed if I'd only known.” She offered her a half-smile, but it was dimmed by the truth, by the reality their sins had created for them.

Becky glared up at her, yelling, “You did know! You did know!"

Roxanne was beginning to think the wire didn't work. They weren't coming in for her, and she would do what it took to save her own life even if it meant playing things Becky's way. She was fragile now, and Roxanne didn't know what she was capable of doing.

"I know now. Okay? I do understand. Okay. We'll deal with this. Okay?” She put on her most sincere face and ran her fingertips up and down Becky's cheekbone. “Let's get you out of these clothes and into bed. Come on.” She took her hand and pulled her toward the door.

Becky didn't budge. “Make love to me here. Now! Right now!” Roxanne stood at the door and put her back against the windowpane.

"We've had a long night, Becky, and I want to go inside the house and curl up with you in my arms and talk about this. I don't want to be hasty on this when we have such a history together. Don't you think we need to talk about this? Three men lost their lives tonight, and we need to talk about that before we can talk about having a future together as a couple."

Roxanne tugged at her again, and Becky resisted as she tried harder to get her point across. “I want to love you and want to feel you loving me. Can't you just let me feel your skin pressed up against mine? Can't you do that for me?” She moved close to stroke Roxanne's hair. Her finger trailed down her neckline and into the opening of her costume. “I've dreamed of this moment, Roxanne.” Her breathing quickened, and the pulsating in her throat proved she fully anticipated a joining of bodies.

"I was tired of killing for you when all I really wanted was to have my hands all over you and your body.” As she spoke, she moved very close to Roxanne's neck so that every word she said was clearly defined on tape.

They had what they needed to move in. Roxanne knew it. They'll be here now, she thought.

Becky moved closer to her and told her how she had longed for her hands to stroke her. She cupped her breast and whispered into her ear. “I guess that's not going to happen, though, is it?"

Roxanne looked alarmed as Becky stripped the wire from her bra.

"Ironic, isn't it? You can sleep with dozens of men. Dozens ... but when it comes to sleeping with me, you ... you are repulsed by the idea. Is that why you're wearing a wire?"

Roxanne couldn't look at her friend. She was deeply saddened by the turn of events. As the police officers entered the room with their guns drawn, Becky's tears stained her cheeks. “Well, I guess you finally gave me the ride of my life, didn't you?” She spat the words through tears and anger. “You finally fucked me. After all this time, I can finally say I was fucked by the best! That's what they all said about you, but you know that already, don't you?"

Becky sobbed uncontrollably as the officers cuffed her. Before she left, Becky turned one last time to look around the guesthouse and then looked down at her feet before managing to lock stares with Roxanne one final time. “Yes,” she began with the same statement again, “I can finally say my best friend did fuck me! I hope it was as good for you as it was for me."

"Get this piece of work out of here,” the detective they called Fritz gave another officer directions as he looked at the murderous blonde in her Halloween cheerleading outfit and moved toward Roxanne. “Ma'am, is there someone I can call for you?” He spoke with compassionate authority.

She shook her head. “No, I guess not. The only person in the world I would've called is going to be taking a ride in your cruiser tonight."

He nodded and forced a smile. “We'll take care of her."

* * * *

Roxanne sat in silence and wished everything could have been very, very different. She was forced to watch as the police officers handcuffed the woman she'd known most of her life. Her heart was aching for her, and after she had spoken to her with such passion in her voice, she knew she had lost the only true companion she'd ever had in her life. Had she realized it just one moment too late?

Her friend had always been there for her. They'd shared very intimate snapshots of their lives. Becky had watched as men brought Roxanne pleasure. Now she knew. Silently, Becky had stood by and wished it could've been her entwined in her arms and locked snugly between her legs. She had waited patiently for a turn, acting as if they were locked in a triangle of fun and games, but, in truth, she'd only wanted to please Roxanne. Becky did it because she knew being allowed to stand in the shadows and watch turned her friend on, and it had been a sexual tool Roxanne used for her own twisted pleasures.

She re-entered the darkness outside, and it brought her to realize a new appetite stirring from within, and she hoped she would one day be able to taste it. Yes, as sad as it would be to lose Becky, she had to find a way to move on with a replacement. She would find someone who lusted after her in much the same way, and together they would enjoy the sexual ride of a lifetime. After all, it's what Becky would want.

She would want her friend to find pleasure again, and the only way to do it would be through fantasy and role-playing. She'd find another woman willing to wait in the closets of dark rooms, and then she would write to Becky in prison to tell her everything she'd missed. She would feel like she'd been there all over again, waiting in the shadows—except this time, she would have to wait in the shadows of a dark and cold jail cell with only her imagination to comfort her.

Next time, she wouldn't be there to see it. Next time, Roxanne would have to punish her with the explicit details of every intimate pleasure she'd missed because of her own selfish mistake. She would drive her crazy, and then when she least expected it, she would tell her the truth because the truth would set her free. The truth would let her know she had always been there watching, too, as she disposed of everyone who ever touched her in the way she now realized she'd wanted only Becky to do.

She sat down on the patio and stared at her room high above the oak tree and for a moment, saw her best friend standing there. Deep down inside, she knew why. The phone rang moments later, and on the other end she heard: “This is Detective Fritz. There's been an accident, and we thought you should know..."

Part Two

Madness Marches On

Chapter Four

It had been a long and difficult five months for Roxanne. She'd been separated from Becky for far too long. An evil twist of fate played havoc on their lives, and they were both left alone. Roxanne was lonely. Not only had many of their old friends dismissed her, but many in their community shunned her altogether. The harrowing tales of the Halloween party had gone from a sex fest to a mindfully planned killing spree, one that many believed Roxanne had orchestrated from the beginning.

Roxanne sat with her psychologist over drinks. The man had it bad for her, but the truth was in plain sight. If she fucked him, he would never be able to help her later—and Roxanne knew she would someday need him. Perhaps she would need him in the middle of the night where a jealous wife could complicate things or perhaps she would someday need him on the witness stand. Either way, their relationship would remain as it was intended to be: strictly platonic.

"Roxanne, tell me what you're thinking.” McKay Devereaux was a handsome man. He had salt-and-pepper hair and an unforgettable smile. He had quickly stepped in for Roxanne's father to offer the young woman support after the ill-fated Halloween party. Her father trusted him, but he didn't have the slightest idea what his daughter was capable of doing. From the very beginning, Devereaux had been attracted to Roxanne, and she'd been tempted more than once to tear his world apart with a night of purely adulterated sexual bliss.

Smiling, Roxanne moved her straw up and down in her frosty, frozen Mud Slide. “You'd love for me to tell you, wouldn't you?” She held his adoring stare for as long as he would allow it. And before she realized it, she was moving the straw up and down and up and down through the chocolate syrup and whipped cream. When some of it splashed over the rim of the glass, her wide grin offered more. “Thinking? What would you just love for me to think about, McKay?"

He touched her hand, playing the part of the professional, concerned psychologist. “I want you to tell me what is on your mind."

Roxanne squinted. I bet you do. She could feel her lids move farther down over her eyes, and her vision blurred with his distorted expression. You're actually afraid of what I might say, she thought to herself, ridiculing the man in front of her.

McKay pressed on. He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I brought you here to the Dart Room so you could relax and let your hair down. I want you to talk to me about the night your friends died. I want you to talk openly to me, Roxanne, because until you do, there's no way to escape this pain."

Roxanne's bemusement settled only with her cry for attention. It was something she longed to have again. A connection with someone—anyone—who would be willing to open up and see her for the person she intended to be and the one she had already decided to become.

The young woman moved over her drink with her hands clasped together forming a tent over the glass below. “McKay,” she cooed as she said his name, “do you really want to know what happened at our party?” Her head dropped slightly, as did her jaw. She taunted him with the possibility of telling all.

He nodded. He'd asked frequently, and Roxanne knew that the more interested he became in her, the more terrified he became in knowing the truth. Still, a man who has a hard dick guiding his better senses will always ask the wrong questions again and again until he is slapped with the hand he wants around his better judgment.

Roxanne didn't know what came over her, but she decided it was fine to finally talk about it—and there wasn't anyone she'd rather talk to than McKay Devereaux. She wanted to see the expressions of sorrow on his face, if she could provoke them, as she told him of other men. She wanted to wear him down with the jealousy she knew would present itself when she calmly delivered the details of uninhibited fucking and sexual gratification.

Roxanne smiled as sweetly as she could manage. She patted his hand this time. “What started out as an innocent Halloween party finally tore Becky and me apart, at least temporarily. After a night of gratifying sex, hard-core fucking, really, with strangers, we met our separation, and I can't say that I never saw this coming.” She smiled again, removed her hand from his, and sat back to wait for a reply.

She saw the first bead of sweat form on McKay's forehead. It was no secret that Roxanne and McKay had some kind of chemistry. They both seemed to fight it. McKay probably didn't know why, but Roxanne had purposefully ignored his sexual advances. They were limited, but they existed nonetheless.

The young woman had thought about leading her married psychologist astray more than once when she'd caught him adjusting his cock behind khaki slacks or running shorts. She knew without a doubt that if they ever fucked, he'd wear her down like no other man could. He'd been forced to endure a perpetual hard-on whenever they were around one another, and more than one or two people had casually glanced downward when they'd seen them together, noting the obvious.

Roxanne said, “McKay, I don't want to hurt you because I know you're my friend and I just couldn't bear to...” Her theatrics allowed tears to flow down her cheeks, and he quickly dabbed them, just like she knew he would, with a napkin.

"Roxanne, you've started this now. Let's finish it. Go ahead and tell me everything."

She snubbed back tears and nodded, the whole time aware of what the truth would do to her friend and psychologist. “McKay, it was like the whole party was an enticing playground of foreplay with all of us involved in one way or another.” Roxanne looked up at him with provocation.

He nodded, urging her on.

Roxanne choked out the rest in a tearful explanation. “The problem is, the hours of fucking and foreplay did nothing but lead to a trail of death, Becky's arrest, and her shocking confession. It was a telling revelation, and one that destroyed us all.” She dabbed her eyes, fighting for every inch of stage that McKay would allow her.

Jealousy swam over his face.

Bingo, love. I knew you'd bite.

Roxanne fought the urge to be too forward. Seeing the uneasiness in her psychologist's face made her reach out for him. “I wish you could've been there.” She nodded until his head was joining in the unison of agreement, the power of suggestion and persuasion working like a charm. If she'd ever had any doubt, she was sure now. McKay was in her hip pocket. The jealousy of a man could be used to control him. Roxanne stroked her own ego before stroking his.

Reaching her hand under the tablecloth, she patted McKay on the knee before moving it around to stroke and caress the underside of it, her fingers stroking with extraordinary confidence. His cheeks turned a brighter red with each touch.

"Do you mind if I continue?” Roxanne purred the words, realizing he could be under the impression that she was asking for permission to move a little farther up his leg.

He nodded. “I think you should."

For playful insinuation, she moved her hand up to his middle inner thigh. “Okay,” her lone word innocent, she continued. “Three murders took place, but even the killings paled in comparison to the reality of how many had actually died in totality. Becky admitted to me, only moments before her arrest, that every man I ever touched later died at her hand. It was the only way she could be sure that the men I took to bed would never come between us. See, she wouldn't allow it. She couldn't allow it.” She watched closer this time after the confession she offered.

Devereaux's eyes were dark, and Roxanne's hand moved again, slightly farther in a direction any man would want an experienced and willing hand to take. She felt him squirm underneath her touch. “Do you have any idea what that feels like? Do you?” She moved to his crotch and stroked him under his pants, feeling every rigid detail in his cock.

Despite the words caught in his throat, he attempted to speak. “Ahem ... Roxanne, I can.” Those were the only words she needed to hear, and the only words she'd later need for confirmation. Yes, she knew it all along, but being certain was always better than overestimating the power to mesmerize with sex appeal.

Roxanne continued to stroke. No one in the dingy little college pub noticed them in their dark corner. She pressed down with her palm, continuing a half-assed hand-job. She fingered the material and each suggestive vein she could feel through his pants while pressing forward with her words and movements. “Becky loved me. We shared an unconditional love, I guess, but I never wanted to act on girlish desires, you know?” She grinned mockingly as her hand delivered a tight claw-type squeeze, unable to find solace in a full wrap around the cock below. “I had, um ... other interests."

McKay chuckled. “I imagine you did."

Roxanne nodded. “Even as the cloak and dagger came down on us that warm Halloween evening, Becky had only one desire. She didn't care if she escaped or if she was charged with the murders. She just wanted me. She wanted to fuck me, McKay.” After this enunciation of what she hoped McKay would translate as a later invitation, she bit down on her lip. It would be only an invite, and, yet, he had no way of knowing in that moment that she wouldn't be attending the party.

As Roxanne moved her chair closer to her prey, he was unaware of her tactics, of how she worked. Her hand never left his dick. She had stopped moving her hand, but his cock pleaded for more attention, more action.

"Becky pleaded with me for sex—even as she professed an undying love and lustful cravings for me,” Roxanne's eyes darkened and her lips parted to show her tempting tongue scraping over her teeth, tempting the man listening to it all.

"Ahem ... I'm sorry, I was preoccupied with...” She stopped again for effect and began moving her hand under the band of her psychologist's pants.

"Do you want me to quit?” With her hand proceeding farther into the warmth of his pants, she didn't have any intention of stopping. Not yet, anyway.

Roxanne grabbed a good hold around McKay's cock. His eyes darkened quicker than she thought. “You like this, baby?"

He nodded. “You know it."

"How good does it feel?” she coaxed him along.

"Roxanne ... we're in a...” he sat up further in his chair, probably trying to find some sense of his whereabouts and unable to regain composure. Her hand quickened.

"I like having a hard dick in my mouth, McKay.” She moved closer to him. One hand was underneath the table, with the other going to his head to finger the hair back over his ear. “Are you interested in having an affair with me?"

He nodded.

Good. She removed her hand from his pants, took a sip of water, and continued. “You want to know what happened to Becky, so I'm going to tell you. Then, I'm going to walk away."

He looks confused. Don't give him a chance to ask. Roxanne kept the conversation flowing. “The cops arrested Becky quickly. I wore the wire, and they came in and quickly cuffed her and then literally pushed her into the backseat of a squad car before she knew what had happened, but, McKay, Becky's a smart girl. Her lifelong desire to fuck me couldn't be fulfilled if she didn't think fast on her feet. It's hard to fuck behind bars, you know?"

Roxanne smiled and put a finger to his lips when he started to speak. “The officers had turned down a deserted road; Becky had faked a seizure; and when they pulled over to check on her, she attacked them with venom in her veins and my name on her lips. She later drove them to a cliff, then got out and watched as the car tumbled to the bottom, engulfed in flames."

"Roxanne, do you know where Becky is now?” McKay must've thought she was stupid like his delusional wife.

"No. I wish I did.” She smiled, but then the pain in her heart brought in the element of truth.

I really don't know where she is, Roxanne thought to herself.

The young woman had been consumed with guilt as she sat alone after Becky's arrest. She seemed to be waiting for her return. She thought about their years in high school and turned back the hand of time where she, too, realized strong feelings existed for Becky—only she had enjoyed her in another way.

She liked her companionship. She needed her for her own sick and twisted pleasures. Yes, she'd known her partner in crime had killed for her. She had known all along that when she chose to sleep with a man, he was a man marked for murder and one she specifically hand-picked to die at the hands of the madness. It was a crazed game only Becky could create using the players Roxanne hand-selected.

It was something Roxanne rarely thought about, because, if she didn't think about it in terms of murder, she wasn't an accomplice, at least not in her eyes. She enjoyed the sick realization that she would be the last woman the poor guy would fuck. She liked the control.

The power.

The mind games the girls played with one another were as deranged as the games they played with the men who unknowingly entered their beds of deception. Each young woman had her own agenda. Separately, each found her own demented pleasures.

Even as the police cruiser pulled away from the driveway, Roxanne had decided to take the next step. In her mind's eye, she had already selected who would take Becky's place. There would be a replacement, after all. She would want someone waiting for her as her best friend had waited. She wanted someone in the darkness ready to strike when she was through capturing her pleasure. She would need someone else to play the part of a psychopath ready to kill on command, but she wouldn't have to fantasize long. Becky was coming back for her.

Few people had the trained hand for violence, and even fewer would enjoy the orchestrated recklessness of it all. They were a team, and, even now, as Roxanne sat with her psychologist, she knew she was ready to leave town and Becky was prepared to follow her.

She sensed it.

McKay must've regained some pathetic measure of self-control because he seemed to be ready to hear and understand more. “Tell me more about Becky. Your father told me that you thought she came back for you after the car accident. Even though everyone who saw the wreckage felt that there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that the girl or either officer survived. You talk about this now like you really believe Becky is alive, so tell me why you are certain of it.” His hand went to his pants again, and Roxanne smiled.

"Come on, McKay, are you sure you want to know the truth? You haven't been listening to me, or you would've already put everything together.” Roxanne patted his leg. “I know you had other things on your mind. It was one of the reasons that the two officers were easily distracted by Becky: They were thinking with their cocks and not their heads. All they saw when Becky pulled her seizure stunt was boobs bouncing and a shirt ripping enough to show great tit-action. I'm here to tell you, she has a beautiful set of tits."

McKay's tongue swiped his upper lip, and he stared at the ones right in front of him.

"That night, after the wreck, I walked slowly, cautiously, timidly up the steps toward my room, not knowing what to expect, but certain Becky was there. Relief had washed over me. I knew she was alive, and most of all, I knew she was free. Earlier in the evening, I was scared. My house became the house of horrors—a crime scene. At first, I felt a little of the same when I saw the image in the window. A flood of excitement washed over me, but then a quick reality check occurred. I was scared by the wicked truth of possibilities. Becky could've been angry with me, and, if so, how would she act on it?"

"Roxanne, you really believe she's alive."

Was it a question or a statement? She took it as a question.

She nodded, then patted his hand. “I know what you're thinking.” She lowered her voice when she spoke again.

"She could be watching us right now."

Without thinking, McKay ran a trembling hand over his throat. He knew that the victims were decorated with a bandana around their throats. “I see. You think she's not only alive, but that she watches your every move."

Roxanne nodded. “See, the night I saw her in my window, I wasn't sure if it was Becky in a spirit form, such as a ghost or something, or if she had, in fact, escaped. Either way, she had been there, but it wasn't meant for me to see her then. I did find a note with these words scribbled on it: ‘Someday, I'll find you. Until then, live well but remain untouched and alone or everything will remain the same,’ and I shook as I read it."

The tears flowed. She didn't wipe them away, nor did she offer to lead one of them astray because she wanted the stains of an impression to remain on her face and embedded in McKay Devereaux's mind.

McKay studied Roxanne for a moment before he responded. “Where does this leave us?"

Just like a man. He's still thinking about my mouth around his precious dick, so he can't possibly be a professional at this point. My hands have touched him, guided him on, and he never knew what hit him. Roxanne proudly congratulated herself again, mentally checking off the people she needed in her corner should her future bring with it the need for alibis.

Roxanne stood up and kissed him on the cheek. “I'll be in touch, McKay, but I've stayed too long. As long as Becky never thinks we've fucked, you're safe."

She scooted by the chair and walked toward the door. When she reached it, she turned around and blew him a kiss. The expression on his face told tall tales. He was in her hip pocket. She'd only have to offer him something in return if she ever called in a favor. After touching what he had to offer, it wouldn't be hard to negotiate the terms.

Chapter Five

It was March when Becky finally showed herself. There had been notes left over the past few months as Roxanne led Becky across country. She knew she was following her; she felt her presence. Before she decided to leave town, Roxanne had been questioned by the police countless times. The rumor mill in town had allowed information to scare the community. The wreckage over the mountain didn't prove to hold the remains of a young female charged with the murder of three men and suspected in countless crimes.

Roxanne's parents had encouraged her to leave town for awhile to try and come to terms with what had happened. With wealthy parents backing her trip, Roxanne took to the road, the air, and even the sea. In March, she found her way to Las Vegas. She'd visited there the year before the Halloween party murders. Of course, Becky had been with her then. Becky loved to go to Las Vegas during March Madness because she was a die-hard basketball fan. Secretly, Roxanne always wanted to find a basketball player to lead around by the nose and perhaps even keep on the side, but she never found one who was interested.

The year before, the girls had booked a suite at The New Frontier because of the expansive pool area and smaller casino setting. The party crowd wasn't a mainstay at the older resort, but the girls found they enjoyed their accommodations poolside. The location was perfect for them. It was close to shopping, the downtown area, and many Las Vegas favorites.

Roxanne checked into the same poolside suite she had shared with Becky previously and quickly showered and changed for dinner. She went to Margarita's Cantina, where she slurped down a few margaritas as quickly as she would have water. She ordered fajitas for two as she sat reminiscing about other trips now worlds away from her present-day reality.

As she ate alone, the truth hit her. It had been five months. If Becky had followed her throughout her travels, she had stopped. If she wanted something from her or wanted payback, she'd decided not to pursue it. She wasn't going to show. Not now—and probably not ever.

Roxanne began to drink heavily as she half-attempted to enjoy what she considered her part of the fajita meal. What was she thinking, coming to Vegas? It was a terrible city to visit alone. What had she hoped to find? She seemed to be sinking further and further into depression. Calling it a night, she asked for her check.

As she left the restaurant, she stumbled right into a handsome man, as luck would have it. She was practically nose-to-nose with a very sophisticated individual in an Armani suit, and he seemed to scream sex-appeal, which wasn't something she typically noticed in men old enough to be her father. McKay Devereaux had been the one and only exception. Of course, age never mattered much to Roxanne when she was in fuck mode. The alcohol had swiftly moved her in an orgasmic direction.

"Well, hello there.” He smiled easily, and even though Roxanne guessed him to be somewhere in his 50s, he was very handsome with salt-and-pepper hair, as well as a body that wouldn't quit, proving he'd spent a great deal of time in a gym.

"Right back atcha, sexy man.” She began to flirt instinctively. It had been far too long. She hadn't even thought about sleeping with another man after the murders. She was just uninterested because she knew there wouldn't be much of a point.

Part of her sexual thrill had been in knowing that someone was watching. Without anyone to watch, it wouldn't be nearly as much fun. She didn't think a man alone could satisfy her sexual needs. For her, it was important to know someone was watching.

Someone was waiting.

Becky had helped her friend achieve an intimacy beyond any other because she was always there in the shadows, watching, wanting, and, yes, craving her. She was there to protect her and to ensure that the man who slept with her was never any later threat. After all, he would need to face his sins. He would need to pay for sleeping with a vulnerable woman he didn't even know. Becky always made sure the man paid his dues for taking what always belonged only to her.

"What's a girl who looks like you doing here, alone, in the middle of The Frontier?"

"Hmm ... I guess I'm just waiting on a man like you.” Her eyes batted and grin widened as he stepped in stride beside her slow pace throughout the casino.

"Can I buy you a drink?” His head tilted toward the bar located near the entrance of the casino and then back toward the restaurant's bar she'd only just left.

She hated small talk with a man she didn't know. She loathed trying to scramble through the right words, hunting for the appropriate sentences, and she detested married men playing her for a fool. They always thought they were one step ahead of the broad they wanted to bed.

The gentleman who stood before her didn't try to hide his gold band, so she immediately decided he probably wasn't such a bad guy but still wished he would just come out with it. She enjoyed a man who simply told a woman what he wanted to do to her.

"You could buy me a drink, but, really, it isn't necessary. I've had several already, and, you know,” she leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “drinks here are free when you're gambling."

He chuckled. “Well, then, I guess I need to take a different approach while I'm in Las Vegas, hmm?"

Roxanne's eyes glazed over. She could tell because they seemed to moisten at the edges but were dry in the center. She was going to fuck the man who stood before her, and he would be the first man she would screw who would actually live to tell about it.

She pressed her palm on his chest and stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear again, “You don't need another approach. I'm ready to just cut to the chase. I've been five months without a man. I've never done anything like this in my life, but I'd like to fuck you all night long. Are you interested?” She had become such a good liar when she and Becky had worked clubs in search of a new boy-toy. She knew how it was done.

The man thought better of it for a second. “Are you a working girl?” His eyes drifted over her body. He seemed to be contemplating whether or not he'd take her up on the offer regardless of whether or not she worked the streets of Las Vegas.

Roxanne laughed, “Sure, baby. If you want me to be a woman of the night, then I have absolutely no problem with it. If you want to tell your friends that you had a working girl in Vegas, call me what you want. Keep your money, though; I have plenty of my own."

She started to turn away from him mainly because she was drunk and just needed to sit down, but he caught her by the arm. Roxanne looked up into dark eyes as his grip tightened. “You're serious? You are just going to pick me up? Right here and knowing nothing about me?"

Suddenly, she realized she probably wasn't too believable. He would believe she'd done something very similar before. “On second thought, you're right. I'm drunk. I don't need to get laid. I need sleep."

He smiled half-heartedly. “Well, I'm Jack, by the way."

The name being spoken snapped her back to her Halloween costume party, where Captain Jack Sparrow had been her lust-interest of the evening. “Jack? I like that name. I'm Roxanne.” She extended her hand, and he shook it before she slowly turned. “Well, Jack, maybe I'll see ya around."

Her heart pounded harder as she revisited the past. She again craved the excitement that she felt with Captain Jack Sparrow, also known to others as Spenser Scott. He had been victim number one at the party she and Becky had hosted together. For lack of a better description, Spenser had been an easy target and a delicious piece of flesh. His ready dick had pumped into her mouth with a flavor all of its own.

The Las Vegas Jack wasn't anything like Spenser. He had kind, sensitive eyes that followed her past the sports book as she slowly walked toward the guest rooms. He probably decided she was a girl looking to be raped or robbed as she moved in her drunken stupor toward the pool area. He followed her at a distance just to make sure she made it to her room safely. He probably thought she never knew he was there.

That's right, baby; keep back a little bit farther. Oh, honey, you don't know it, but you already belong to me. Roxanne gripped the side of the wall as she stood at the glass door overlooking the pool. For a moment, she thought back to another time. She could almost see Becky sitting on a float in the middle of the pool. She blinked and took another look just to be sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. Unfortunately, they were. No one was by the pool, much less in the water. A sudden rain began to beat down, further indicating no one was there.

Roxanne let go of the thought. She turned the corner and counted rooms like a child. “One little room. Nope, not mine. Two little room. Nope, not mine! Three little...” The drunken act was out of control. Sure, she had a definite buzz, but her behavior would indicate something else entirely. A drunken idiot.

"Hey, there you are again!” His voice cut off her silly little charade.

"Oh, it's you. Aren't you the dumb ass that just turned me down for sex?” She almost deliberately slurred her speech.

He laughed. “I'm sure it appears that way to you now. However, I don't think I actually turned you down for sex.” He moved a tad bit closer. “In fact, I think we left it open-ended."

"Well, then, if you didn't turn me down, are you here to take me up on it?” She snickered as she stumbled back into the wall, and when she did, she faked a twisted ankle. It worked like a charm. Damn, men are so dumb when it came to a good-looking lady in heels and tight pants, Roxanne congratulated herself as she smiled as sweetly as possible. He immediately caught her under her arms to scoop her up before she landed.

His hands had brushed over her breasts, and she could see the color brighten his face. He apologized and stammered, “Are ... you ... I apologize for touching ... I didn't want you to fall all the way..."

Roxanne was alive with the simple skimming of masculinity that moved past her tits. She grinned, then laughed, “I've always been a bit clumsy, especially around handsome men."

"I don't buy that for a second.” He felt confident that he was going to score. In fact, he'd already slid his wedding ring off, and he saw her look at his hand. She probably knew she was getting lucky, too.

Roxanne removed a key from her purse and started to take a step toward her suite. She frowned when she put weight on her ankle, and he offered his arm, taking the key from her hand.

"Which room is yours?” His voice was slow and steady, and he was as good as hers. He was willing to bet she felt the same way. Their touches lingered, and he wanted nothing more in that second than to simply devour her. Their hands had touched for a brief moment, and the undeniable look of lust had swarmed across her face. It told him everything he wanted to know.

He waited for an invitation. She left the door open and went to the back sliding door and pushed it open. Pulling the drapes back to re-cover the glass, he could feel the breeze from where he was standing. He couldn't believe he was thinking about cheating with this woman, but there was something about her. He wanted to try her, taste her, fuck her, but he wanted an open proposition to do all of the above.

Roxanne was willing to bet he'd never cheated before in his life. She could tell. A woman can spot a cheater a mile away, and while the man was likely a competent lover, he had reservations. The apprehension was coming from the fact that he wasn't accustomed to going out on his wife and had nothing to do with Roxanne. He was in awe of Roxanne and wanted her. It was evident he did. In fact, his desire for her was growing very obvious.

Roxanne went straight to the wet bar to pour a drink. “Come on in and shut the door. I'm not going to bite. Besides, the back door is open now. Someone will hear you if you scream."

He laughed. “So, you have done this before!"

She handed him a drink as his other palm pressed against the door to ensure it was indeed shut. He still looked like a man not quite sure of his own intentions, but his body would defy all reasoning. Roxanne could have told him as much. It would have stopped the mental war wearing on his conscience.

"I've done a lot of things before. A man I just met minutes before bringing him back to my room isn't something I've done before, at least not that I can recall."

Jack moved into her. “But you've wanted to do something like this, haven't you?” His eyes darkened. She knew he wanted her to say yes. Oh, how he wanted her to say yes. He focused on her full mouth, and she knew he was anticipating what she would say.

There it was. The sign she wanted. It was her green light. The ego every woman loves to hate. The you-know-you-want-me-and-must-have-me kind of attitude. The male thing.

She shrugged. “I haven't been laid in five months. I find you attractive and sexy, but I will warn you, I'm not easily pleased. I want a man only if he is able to keep up with me. Otherwise, I can manage just fine on my own."

He tilted the rim of his glass toward her, “A toast then. To getting what we both want and more of it than either of us can stand."

She clinked her rim with his and took his glass before he could take a drink. She put the glasses on the nightstand and immediately pushed him down on the bed, straddling him for a moment, altogether turned on by the fact he didn't expect to find her on top of him quite so quickly.

"What's wrong? You didn't expect me to take you up on the offer?” She mimicked him slightly, but he didn't seem to mind. After all, she was already working her hips in a slow, grinding motion—giving new meaning to dry-humping. He was completely horny.

"I expected you to do exactly what you said you would do once the door closed behind us.” He didn't blink as she studied his face. To show her that he, too, meant to have her, he pushed his hips into the opening she created when she straddled him.

She used his chest to push herself back down the bed to stand again. She went over to turn on the iPod that she had gotten used to carrying with her on her travels. She turned on Hinder's Lips of an Angel as she began to remove her blouse, revealing skin that looked sugary white. She stepped out of her pants and then returned to the iPod home to turn up the volume. She hung around the dresser so he could lie waiting for her while examining every inch of what he would soon claim.

Roxanne loved games, but more than anything, she loved to be in control. He was waiting for her to come back to the bed, but, little did he know, he would take her on the dresser and he would have to watch in the mirror as he committed the biggest act of betrayal a married man could carry out.

She sat up on the dresser, with one leg hanging over, and motioned for him to join her. He patted the bed, but she shook her head and motioned him again with her index finger. His mind couldn't fight what his cock was driving him to try. Within seconds, he stood in front of her.

"Baby, it's been awhile. We'll play all night but waste no time in the beginning.” She giggled as she rubbed his strong arms and pulled him to her so lips could part lips. She bit gently while she tantalized him with a fascinated tongue that danced, tempted, tasted, and then devoured him.

He was obvious in his fight to skip over the foreplay. She had the same thought, but it disappeared quickly as she worked him over with a mouth full of surprises. After Roxanne had explored his lips, she moved to his neck, then down to his chest, and finally above his belt. He seemed to marvel at her body in the reflection as her lips traced right above where his belt rested.

Side to side, she licked exposed skin at the top of his pants with hands ready to relieve his dick of its privacy. With his hard cock revealed, he held his head back in anticipation of lips anxious to capture him, impatient to taste him, and prepared to pleasure him like no other woman would.

He pumped his cock into her mouth slowly at first. She wanted to be sure he watched, so she took it slow until she was sure he was no longer interested so much in looking down on her but had grown more excited to watch the entire show of images before him. Once she felt his spine straighten, she knew he was looking in the mirror at her apple-shaped ass as her head bobbed up and down on a very receptive cock.

She glanced up and saw the look she decided she loved. It was that look of shame. It was the full face of regret and one that could only be seen on the face of a married man. What a turn-on! Roxanne was immediately hooked by the emotions she saw stirring.

It was forbidden pleasure, unexplained pain, love lost, lust won, desire, hatred, and guilt. That's what she saw, and it was what drove her over the edge. She was ready to screw him. She had to have him while his actions were still raging through him out of his control. He was hers, completely hers. At that point, they both knew he faced consequences. He was in touch with it, yet he still would take her. He had to have her. He couldn't turn away from it.

Walking away? Out of the question.

Her mouth went down one last time and stayed a moment longer before she released him with a slow, lingering lick. She repositioned herself to face the mirror as well. She offered her ass up to him as he stood behind and nodded for him to go ahead—as if he had any doubts.

Her look was soulful. She wanted nothing from him but a good, long fuck. He knew it. She knew it.

His strides thrusted his hard-core guilt into her. She bent over to satisfy his drive, never taking her concentration off of the mind racing behind her. Turned on by the battle she saw him fight with himself, she decided she didn't have to have Becky for a turn-on when she could drive a man to madness all on her own. He placed his hands around her sides and fondled her breasts. He seemed angry, but his cock wouldn't deliver him from the growing resentment of the act itself. Of the pleasure it brought, the pain it could bring.

Roxanne couldn't resist provoking him further. “Think about your wife, baby. What would she think about you fucking someone young enough to be her daughter? That's it, sugar; it's our secret, and a man like you needs a woman to turn him on, not push him away. Fucking me makes you young again, doesn't it? If only she had this body. If only she possessed my dirty mind.” She taunted him. He could see she enjoyed it because she wanted him to see it and never doubt for a minute that it drove her. She was a twisted piece of work who lured him in, and he fell for it. She laughed out loud and almost told him as much. She wanted him to know.

He ignored her chatter but was furious with her for ruining it for him. He'd been on the brink. She could see what she'd done. He knew she felt him soften and experienced his sexual frustration. He slapped her ass, and she cried out, which almost drove him back into it easily. She moaned as he grabbed her hair and twisted it so tight her head fell back on his chest. For a moment, he stared at them both. He saw her for what she was. Cheap, promiscuous, and full of herself—yet, he wanted her still as her inner walls pulsated, enticing him to finish what he had started.

Holding her firmly to him, he plunged a rejuvenated dick into her center, which he noticed was finally moist. “You little bitch; you like it rough, don't you?” He, too, now used the reflecting glass to view what he was creating. He wanted to see her face show some sort of emotion. Nothing showed because nothing existed. He did see that much. Even though he didn't stop, he saw it and was frightened by it. He was pouring himself into a woman who could've been the devil's sister. She didn't have a soul or a heart. If she did, both were hardened.

* * * *

Minutes passed with nothing but the sound of slapping bodies. A moan or two shared here or there. She groaned out loud, almost in unison with familiar cries of passion, knowing he had found his place. As his pace took him over the edge with low moans of ecstasy, she closed her eyes as her head dropped and rolled back, enjoying the meeting of ripples. His, hers, his, hers ... theirs ... and then nothing but fluids were between them. He fell on her back without so much as a sigh. The only thing heard was her own labored breathing. It filled the room.

She lay there for a moment, enjoying the feel of a man inside of her. She closed her eyes tighter as she envisioned how she and Becky had used countless men to find their own pleasure together. While they had never been intimate, their familiarity with one another was profound. When the man named Jack didn't move, she knew why and was consumed by love.

A smile spread across her face as a hand stroked her back. The voice she heard was like music to her ears. Soft, sweet, and full of passion, the voice whispered its heated song into her ears: “You forgot, love; no one ever hears them scream."

A knife dripping in blood hung to Becky's side, and Roxanne watched as it poured from the man's neck. With so many unanswered questions, she started to ask why, but she knew without asking. She wanted to tell her she was sorry, but she couldn't find the right words. So, she just stopped her from leaving again, with promises only she could make.

March had brought with it the return of madness and the delicious taste of new beginnings. She couldn't wait for the adventure ahead. It was long overdue, and if Becky would stay with her, she would offer her the joys of a lifetime, the march of the continuing madness. It was what they both wanted, what they both needed. It was what they both craved. They'd come to the decision long ago. It was their decision to own—the decision to kill.

About the Author

Destiny Blaine is an author of erotica romance novels and short stories. She's a mother and wife first but loves to write stories with strong casino and sports elements because her recreational spirit belongs to both! Visit her website at www.destinyblaine.com or befriend her at www.myspace.com/destinyblaine.

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Forever

By J.L Foster

Miranda has a new prized possession—a doll purchased from a local antique store. The doll seems strikingly beautiful to Miranda and she believes it to hold the features of the handsome Italian Mark from the apartment above hers. Holding an unspoken crush on Mark, Miranda sees the doll as the next best thing, but very peculiar things begin happening with the doll's arrival, including blackouts of sexual proportions. When Mark invites the nervous and wondering Miranda to a Halloween party, things begin to heat up between the two, and Miranda begins to think she's in heaven. But could this heaven really be a supernatural hell?

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Velvet, Leather and Roses

By Dahlia Rose

Cooper Jasper looked around the dimly lit club. This was the third night in a row he showed up. It was not even his type of place. It was called Leather and Lace, and it was for an alternative kind of play. Themed rooms that had paddles and whips hanging from the walls, chairs and beds that you could be strapped into. He had come here with a friend to a bachelor's party, and that was when he saw her. Now with the music pumping in his ears, he looked around the room for the familiar face. He sat at the bar with a glass in his hands. The scene around him fascinated him—a man in a mask being led around on a leash, a woman sitting on a leather sofa while her submissive licked the heel of her boot. He had to find out who she was. He declined the various sexual offers from the ladies that passed and saw him sitting there alone. He was here for one reason only, and that was to see her and maybe talk to her.

His eyes caught a glimpse of a figure crossing the back end of the club. It's her! His excitement built as she came closer. Tonight, she was dressed in a short black body stocking with tiny roses all over it. The thigh-high stockings and stiletto heels made his mouth water. The creamy chocolate color of her skin was clearly visible beneath the mesh of black netting. Two roses covered her nipples, and he could imagine how they looked under those roses. They would be darker than her skin color, with big silver dollar areolas. She had her coppery bronze hair up in a ponytail this time, with a few tendrils escaping on the side. He knew her hair was colored, but it suited her magnificently. Cooper felt his cock thicken in response to his thoughts. Her eyes caught his, and she walked over to him, taking her time. Her movements reminded him of a sleek cat, every step making her hips sway suggestively.

"Hello,” she said.

Her voice was like honey, thick and syrupy with an accent that sent his temperature up a few notches.

"Hello,” Cooper said.

"I'm Velvet."

"I'm sure that was not the name your parents gave you,” he said, amused.

She smiled. “No it isn't, but that's what I'm called anyway. And you are?"

"I'm Cooper—well, Coop to my friends."

"Nice to meet you, Cooper. So, I've seen you in here a few nights, and you never take part in any of the activities. Why is that?"

"I have been waiting for you."

"I've been around. You could have asked for me."

"I wanted you to come to me,” Cooper replied.

"Buy me a rose,” Velvet said.

"What?"

She called over one of the girls walking around with a small basket of roses. “Buy me a rose, and then we'll go into a VIP room. I can't talk to you here for a long time."

Cooper nodded, and when the girl came with the roses, he paid her ten dollars for one. Velvet nodded to the bouncer in the corner, and she took his hand and led him to one of the VIP rooms in the back. He sat in the red leather chair and watched as she turned the little stereo onto a slow, seductive song.

"What's your pleasure, Cooper?” she asked softly. “Do you like to be spanked or domineered?"

"I prefer to do the spanking,” he said softly. He watched as her body moved to the beat of the music. She was raising his blood pressure with her seductive movements. “Uh, can you sit and talk?"

"If you want to talk, Cooper, you came to the wrong place. There are cameras in here. If I don't look like I am doing my job, my boss gets very unhappy. Tell you what—I'll dance, and we'll talk that way.” She crawled onto Cooper's lap and started to grind her hips, pressing into his groin. “Feels to me like you want to do more than talk."

Cooper could not deny it. He was hard as a rock. “Should I not want to fuck you? Because I do."

She arched her back, and her breasts invited him to taste. “We can't do that here. Have you ever been tied up, Cooper? Have you ever been made to beg for pleasure?"

Even though the invitation was appealing, her voice had gone flat. Cooper knew she was looking at him as just another man who wanted to use her body, but it was more than that. Something about her captivated him. He played along with the game, willing to see where it led. “No, I have not been tied up or made to beg. Usually it is the lady that does the begging.” Her body moving on his was driving him crazy. She smelled like exotic spices. With her lower body still pressed against his crotch, she leaned back and laid against the cool marble coffee table. She flipped her legs in the air so he could see her pussy. He almost lost his load right there.

"Really?” she said with an arched eyebrow when they were face to face once again. “Would you like me to tie you up so you can see what it's like?"

"I'm game. What am I being tied up with?"

"I'll do something special for you.” She slid off his lap, sat down on the table and lifted one long, slim leg. She ran her fingers down the smooth leg and slipped off her stiletto heeled shoes before taking off the stockings, one at a time. Velvet straddled him once more and lifted his arms in the air. She kept her gaze fixed on his eyes as she tied his hands with one stocking to a hook that was fixed to the wall.

"I didn't notice that there,” Cooper murmured. He was looking at her full mouth that was so close to his he could flick his tongue out and lick her lips. He wondered what she tasted like, what every part of her tasted like. “I guess I was too busy looking at other things."

Velvet gave him a small slap across the mouth. “Silence! You are now mine. You speak when spoken to. Understood?"

Cooper raised an eyebrow, smiled and nodded. That earned him another small swat from Velvet.

"I asked if you understood. I did not hear you say ‘yes, Mistress.’”

"Yes, Mistress,” he said.

She took the other stocking and rubbed it against his cheek. Cooper could smell her on the thin black material. She raised it to his face and tied it around his eyes. He closed his eyes automatically, his cock throbbing and pressing against the material of his slacks. He felt her body move and push against him. Her hands ran up and down his chest, and soon her fingers found his nipples and squeezed them. Cooper gasped at the sensation.

She leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “Did you like that? Do you want me to slip my hand under your shirt and play with them?"

He nodded and Velvet said, “I won't until you say it."

"Yes,” Cooper answered.

"Yes what, Cooper? Say it right or you will not receive pleasure."

"Yes, Mistress, play with my nipples."

"Good boy,” she whispered and slipped her hands under his shirt. Her fingers tangled into the mat of soft hair on his chest. Velvet licked and nipped at his neck while her fingers found the sensitive nubs. She grazed them lightly with her nails, and Cooper shuddered in response. He felt her smile against his neck, and then she pinched his nipples.

"I bet you wish I would go down your body and unzip your pants right now, don't you?"

"Yes, Mistress,” he whispered. The way her hands felt on him was more than he imagined. The way she ground her hips, pressing against the bulge in his pants was driving him crazy. Cooper wanted to tear his hands down from the sheer stocking that held them, free his cock and spread her wide to fuck her right there.

"You wish my mouth was wrapped around your cock, don't you, baby?” Velvet asked.

Her voice blended in with the other sensations cocooning him in a sensual haze. “Yes, Mistress."

"Yes, Mistress, what?” She took her hand from under his shirt and slapped him again. This time it stung. “You answer correctly or you will be punished."

"Yes, Mistress, I wish my cock was in your mouth.” Cooper groaned the words out. He could see those luscious lips wrapped around his thick flesh, sucking on him while he held her hand and moved his cock in and out of her mouth.

"Time's up!” The deep male voice ruined the mood and snapped Cooper out of his pleasure-filled haze.

Velvet slid off of him and untied his hands. He ripped the stocking from around his eyes and looked at the closing door in irritation. He sighed, knowing that this was not the place he wanted her, not in this setting. He wanted her in his bed, where they would not be interrupted.

"Have dinner with me?” Cooper asked.

"I don't date the club members. It makes for a sticky situation when the wives find out,” she said.

"I am not married, and I am not a member. I am using my friend's membership. Come on, Velvet. What will one dinner hurt?” he asked.

"Ask the last girl that dated someone from the club. She ended up in the hospital with a few broken ribs from where he smacked her around.” She bent over to slip her heels back on.

"I have never beaten a woman in my life. I could tell you where to meet me. It will be a public place. I want to know more about you,” Cooper coaxed.

Her eyes searched his as if looking for any bad intentions in his gaze. “That will be one hundred dollars for the dance. Fifty for me, fifty for the house. Tips are appreciated."

Cooper pulled out his wallet and took a hundred and fifty dollars out. He handed it to her and she turned to walk to the door. She looked back at him still sitting there. “Meet me tomorrow night at Jollies Bar on West Fourth and Houston Street, seven p.m. Oh, and my name is Billie—Billie Carlton.” The house music flooded the room when she opened the door and walked through it.

"Hey, you forgot your stockings,” Cooper called out.

"Keep them."

He saw her again, talking to another man as he left. He wanted to go over and pull her out with him, but it was not his place. The New York night was cool, and Cooper hailed a cab with Velvet on his mind and a throbbing cock. He would have his taste of her soon enough.

* * * *

In his apartment, Cooper lay in bed and looked at the TV without seeing any of the images that played across its screen. His thoughts were on Billie and the dance she gave him at the club. When she was spread open in front of him and he could smell the light musk of her pussy, he wanted to bury his face into the sweet mound and lick her until she came. He had slipped both of her thigh-high stockings into his pocket before he left, and now he lifted them to his nose, inhaling the exotic smell. Was it her lotion that made her smell so enticing, or was it just her? The thought alone made him groan, knowing that he would not be satisfied until he found out for himself.

He pressed his hand against his groin, hoping to ease the ache that had settled there. God, he wanted her. After watching her for days and then being so close to her, he wanted to bury his cock inside her and feel her body milk him dry. He started to stroke his hard cock, and his eyes closed as images of Billie dressed in a body stocking filled his head. She would offer her breasts to him, and he would bite and lick on her nipples. He could hear her sultry voice whispering dirty words and begging him to fuck her. Cooper could see himself laying her back and watching his cock slide into her body. It would be wet and glistening with her juices. Her pussy would wrap around him like a hot, silky glove.

A low moan escaped his lips as he stroked his cock faster. Damn, he wanted her. She had whispered in his ear about sucking his cock. She would do so much more than taking him into her mouth. He would make her squeeze his balls while she sucked him. Then she would lick them for him because it pleased him. Cooper felt his body tighten, and his hot seed spilled onto his hands. He lay there for a moment trying to catch his breath before he climbed out of bed to clean himself up. Under the covers once again, he knew he would have to have her soon. He had only dulled the ache in his body to a mild throb. He would not be pleased until he had Billie under him moaning in ecstasy. She may work as a dominatrix, but she would be his submissive when he took her.

* * * *

Back in the club, Billie was getting her things from her locker and getting ready to go home.

"Where do you think you are going, miss?"

Billie saw her boss's face in the mirror. It was a face she had learned to despise. Billie pasted a fake smile on her face. “I'm going home, Jade. I have a class in the morning, early. I told you about it last night."

"Plans change. I need you to work late tonight.” Jade took a drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke out slowly.

"But, Jade, can't I...” Billie began to protest.

"No. I need to you be hostess tonight. You complain, I might make you the girl in the middle instead."

Billie sighed and nodded, knowing she was getting off easy playing hostess. The other girl would not be so lucky.

"Who was that guy you were talking to tonight in the VIP?” Jade asked the question as Billie started past her.

"Nobody. Just another customer.” Billie gasped as Jade caught her around the hand and let her fingernails dig into her skin.

"He'd better be no one, Billie. Remember, you belong to me."

Billie knew as soon as she got her degree she would be gone, and she would go so far, no one would be able to find her.

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