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Saving Grace

By: Cherrysweetdeal



Unaware of the dangers ahead of her on this dark night she'd watched the sky grow darker and darker during work. The alleyways held no fear for her and she looked as if she was just a stray cat prowling, until they showed up she was safe. While she walked along the street light she was fine, as to the alleyways she seemed to avoid them, for the most part.

They had been watching her for months and they would look towards each other every time she passed. At work, school, inside of her home they came to know this woman down to every inch of her soul including her fears and desires. They knew what she wanted and as she walked along the streets they watched waiting and whispering, "Can we jump her yet boss?" The voice was harsh and it sounded as if someone had been driving down gravel roads all day. 

Damien stood watching her with a lust so deep that it would scare even his Henchman; His reply was a grunt as he snapped back to the reality around him, "Just watch her, she is protected and if we strike at the wrong time he'll be far to close." His eyes caressed every curve and dip in her body as she walked along in a pair of jeans and tank top. 

The he mentioned in this conversation of whispers was the man who yearned to take care of this woman and lusted after her for so long after meeting one day at the grocery store that he watched and waited, it only took a week to notice the men watching her day after day. This would be difficult and needed to be planned in order to get her in the position he wanted her in. Saving her from these thugs would be the only way to get her in his arms. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She walked slowly aware of the world around her and that odd feeling she had. Michelle could barely keep from running faster to her home, knowing that would not please him she kept on a deliberate slow path while her music turned up a notch to calm her nerves. It was only a half an hour walk and it was every bit as agonizing as a trip to the dentist. 

When she had seen him in the grocery store he had changed her life. The look in his eyes when he had bumped into her was exquisite. The smile was quaint and calming yet it held a sense of authority that demanded respect. After walking past and blushing she felt eyes on her ever since and knew that someone had been watching her. As long as it was the man with the dark green eyes she would put on a show in the hopes that he would be there.

Closer and closer to home, she felt him there and it put a smile on her face and calmed her nerves as she imagined his eyes on her. Without thinking she'd walked directly into the third party of the thugs waiting for her. A sudden jolt and she was down on the ground about to push herself up when there was a hand around her wrist pulling her up and against a strong chest holding her tight the smell of grease overwhelmed her and she didn't dare look up knowing this smell all to well the last month and a half from the neighbors yard. He had not been the only one watching her.

By the time her instincts kicked in Michelle's arms were behind her back and cuffed. The steel she could feel was rough and had been outside for far too long. Thug number three who was bigger and stronger (they called him the enforcer) easily dragged her into the alley and pushed her roughly against a wall while he wait for his boss and friend to arrive. The grip in her hair was tight and Michelle refused to whimper as he took a smell of her perfume. 

"Well aren't you a pretty lady, Michelle right? We've been watching you and you have been putting on a show for someone I think. Walking around in only a bra and jeans, we've seen you in bed as you slept and as you left for work. You are shameless inside and want to lose control don't you? I can just see it in your eyes, those pretty little eyes so filled with fear, wait until you meet the boss... Be nice to Damien or you'll be sorry you ever came here." 

The fight in her started to take control and she would wait for the most opportune time. For now all she could do was make some muffled threats as the big brute held his hand over her mouth, she could smell grease clearly now and it was making her a little sick. She would wait for Damien until she could get a clear kick at him. She hoped he would save her... whether or not he would was the question. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All the while after she left the club he had followed behind long enough so he could slip into the doorways. Her beauty astounded him and the simplicity of how she dressed made him wonder what she would look like in a corset with his collar around her neck. His name was Marcus but he went by Mark usually. His friends had been watching him lately and asked him who he had found. With the connections Mark had he could find out everything about her. The name of her pets, friends and where she worked. Free of any criminal acts he thought she'd be the perfect one; he could see it in her eyes and blush when he bumped into her. That odd little smile she gave him had included a quiet "I'm sorry, have a good day." After the incident at the store hhe knew that she was his and would not be able to forget the look in his eyes. 

In that moment of ignorance and forgetfulness he had closed his eyes in the doorway and when he looked out to see how far she had gone, Mark barely saw her get carried into the alley by the big man she had bumped into. When he saw Damien, whom he had met at one of his friend's parties, he knew he should be worried. Damien had his henchman with him and all four were gone by the time he ran to the alley she had been dragged into. 

His moment of ignorance may have cost him her life and his happiness. The only words he could think had come out now, "I can't lose her before I show her my world." With all the strength he had he walked back home and started phoning for information while she suffered in Damien's hands. 

Saving Grace



(This is an official entry into the 2008 Literotica Halloween story contest. I hope you will read all of this year's submissions, and please don't forget to vote and/or leave a comment.)

*****

Jessica leaned against the doorway of her daughter's room, watching the tiny form upon the shadowed bed. The sweet aroma of warm milk permeated the air, mingling with the fragrance of rose incense wafting from the living room. The dichotomy of the two scents reminded Jessica of her life before and after the arrival of Baby Grace.

A single mistake, a fumbling, drunken decision made in the heat of the moment, and her life had been changed forever. For the better, to be honest; Jessica was more than capable of handling the financial stress of being a single mother, and the joys of rediscovering the world through her year-old child's eyes was nothing less than magical.

But damn it if she didn't miss sex.

Not that she lacked for attention; fifteen months after giving birth, Jessica was able to wriggle back into the same party dress she had worn that fateful Halloween night. She had often joked to friends that being half Chinese meant she never had to worry about losing her slim, girlish figure. It seemed that not a day passed in which she did not enjoy a flirtatious man's approach. Having a child, however, changed her reactions -- and those of any would-be admirer -- dramatically. Most men, she had come to discover, were leery of involving themselves with a single mother. Especially when the child was so young.

Jessica was not about to compromise her daughter's safety or happiness. She became more choosy, more discerning. She accepted the fact that her life was different now. No more carefree evenings dancing and getting drunk, looking for the night's next available partner. Now, it was quiet evenings sitting at home, with the baby thankfully sleeping through the night as Jessica lived a vicarious life through cable television.

With a last loving smile upon her child, Jessica closed the door and padded around the end of the couch. The bottle of Corona sat open and waiting, pulp from the lime squeezed through the bottle's mouth floating upon the surface of the golden liquid. Making sure the baby monitor was turned on and attuned to the right frequency, Jessica curled her legs beneath her on the couch and flipped open her phone. She had missed a call while bathing the baby, and it turned out to have been from her best friend.

"Hi, Kelly," Jessica said when the other end was picked up. "You called?"

"Sure did, mama," Kelly responded with her typical rasp. Men always found her voice sexy. "What'cha doing on Halloween?"

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Sure, rub it in," she bemoaned. "I'm looking forward to another fun-filled night of passing out candy to a couple hundred junior Wolverines and having all the parents tell me how cute Grace looks in her bunny rabbit costume."

"You know, it still gets me sometimes."

"What does?"

"How you just named her Grace. It was like, you were all set to name her after your mom, and then poof! You put Grace on the birth certificate. Like it just popped out of nowhere."

Jessica shrugged. "It kind of did. But now I wonder how I ever thought of calling her something else. I guess babies sometimes just name themselves."

"Maybe," Kelly admitted. "Anyway, about Halloween. Trick-or-treating will be done by, what, eight o'clock?"

"Something like that. Why? I can't go anywhere, Kel."

"Not even if you had a babysitter?"

Jessica sighed, reaching for her beer. She settled back into the corner of the plush leather couch. "I already asked Devin, but she's got plans. Go figure. What nineteen-year-old is gonna give up Halloween night to babysit? I even offered to pay her double."

"Well . . . ."

Jessica frowned in suspicion. "What are you thinking?"

"What if I got you a babysitter?"

Jessica grumbled under her breath. "You know how I feel about that," she said. "Day care is one thing. But leaving Grace alone with someone else . . . I gotta be careful."

"Even if it's my mom?"

Jessica exhaled a heavy breath. "Your mom smokes," she said pointedly. "Besides, I don't want to take Grace out of her comfort zone."

"Yeah, I know. But I already talked to her about it. You know how my mom adores you. She said she'd come over to your place, and she won't smoke inside."

Jessica chewed her lip. "Maybe. I don't know. Besides, I don't wanna get drunk and then come home."

"So, I'll keep an eye on you, make sure you don't get wasted."

"Yeah, right!" Jessica sputtered in laughter.

"Hey, come on. When's the last time Pocahontas went on the prowl?"

Jessica chuckled. Her Pocahontas costume had been tucked away in a box for almost three years, now. It was a decidedly more adult version of the garment depicted in the Disney movie, with a scandalously tiny skirt and low-necked top. With her long black hair in twin braids, Jessica looked the part of a sexy, brazen Indian queen perfectly.

"That's not fair, Kelly."

Her best friend chuckled. "Come on. You might even hook up. My mom said she'd watch Ellie all night if it meant you might get some action."

"Yeah, and that would be it. I get laid for one night, and then the guy finds out I have a kid."

"You'll still get laid," Kelly insisted in her deadpan, matter-of-fact way.

Another sigh escaped Jessica's lips. "It might surprise you, but sex is not the most important thing in the world."

"Neither is chocolate, but you still gotta have it."

Jessica chuckled. "Oh, well now you're making sense."

"Of course I am. So that settles it. You're coming out on Halloween."

"Okay, fine," Jessica finally agreed with a reluctant smile. "But I'm gonna be more careful this time, and so are you."

"Pfft! Yeah, whatever."

The conversation wandered off on other tangents for a while before Jessica finally hung up. She had finished her first beer while talking, and rose to get another before the start of one of her favorite shows, a medical comedy-drama that starred one of the sexiest men in America, at least as far as Jessica was concerned. Squeezing a lime into her second Corona, she settled once more into the couch, pulling the hand-woven quilt bequeathed by her mother just before breast cancer had taken her.

"-- Hey! This thing still works!"

Jessica frowned at the sound of the static-shrouded feminine voice. That's not coming from the TV, she thought, glancing around.

"How do you know it's working?" It was a man's voice, smooth and strong, despite the interference.

"'Cause the little light's on. Duh."

Jessica rolled her eyes, sitting up to grab the baby monitor. Shit, that's all I need. Picking up someone else's conversation. They told me this might happen with the cheap models, but I paid sixty bucks for this!

"Why do you even have a baby monitor?" the man's voice asked. "You don't have a kid, do you?"

"No, I got it for a friend of mine couple years ago. But she already had one." A wondering laugh interrupted her words. "Might as well hang onto it, just in case, you know?"

"I hope that's not a warning."

The woman laughed again. "No, I'm on the pill, and I'm gonna stay that way for a few more years at least. Besides . . . I mean, it's only our fourth date. I still, uh, believe in protection."

"Of course."

With a huff, Jessica pushed up from the couch, intending to sneak into her daughter's room to change the frequency on the monitor beside Grace's bed. But as she did so, the muffled sound of her baby's sleepy voice intruded upon the eavesdropped conversation. Nonsensical murmurs accompanied by a long, droning moan. The typical sounds elicited by Grace's infantile dreams.

Still, I should switch frequencies, Jessica told herself, hand upon the knob to Grace's room. I can't just listen in on someone else's conver--

"-- Thinking maybe we would just stay in tonight," the man's voice sounded once more. "It's already after nine."

"I know. I'm sorry. Work kept me late and--" The woman's voice was muffled for a brief moment before being replaced by soft moans and the unmistakable wet smacking sounds of passionate kissing.

Jessica's brow arched in voyeuristic interest. Hmm. Okay, maybe it wouldn't hurt to listen for just a few minutes . . . .

She returned to the couch, her eyes falling to the monitor as if she could watch the scene. The TV flickered in the background, but she was no longer paying attention. Taking up her beer, she grinned like a mischievous teenager, listening to the passionate drama unfolding through the monitor.

". . . Mmm, Vic . . . God damn, you're a good kisser," the woman was saying.

"Only as good as my partner," the man named Vic responded. More heated kissing ensued. Vic's lover was obviously becoming aroused. The sound of fabric moving was just discernible beneath her heated sighs. After a few moments, the woman gasped aloud, then cooed appreciatively.

Must be doing something right, Vic, Jessica thought with a giggle. What's he doing? Kissing her neck? Her breasts? Or maybe he's one of those typically direct guys who goes right for the honey pot--

"Fuck, yes," moaned the woman. "Bite 'em, baby. Bite--" she hissed loudly. "--yeah, like that . . . ."

Jessica nibbled her lip, feeling the warmth of arousal in the pit of her stomach. She rubbed her thighs together, just little movements that stimulated the suddenly needy swelling of her clitoris.

"Lay back, baby, let me do something for you," Vic said. Even through the filter of the monitor, his voice sounded strong and confidant to Jessica. A real man's voice. She imagined him tall, well-built, with dark hair and chiseled features, like a modern Rock Hudson or Christopher Reeve, leaning over a swooning damsel more than ready to give in to his attentions.

"God damn, you're sexy," the woman sighed. The sound of a body moving atop leather -- like that of Jessica's own couch -- was unmistakable. Jessica could just picture the unnamed woman reclining back, wantonly spreading her legs and staring up into the eyes of her lover. She giggled suddenly amid a brief sound of movement. "You like, baby? I shaved it all off, just for you."

Jessica chuckled, rolling her eyes. Oh, he's one of those guys, she thought, suddenly conscious of the sparse but tangled hair above and around her long-neglected sex.

"Hmm. Looks good enough to eat," Vic answered.

"Prove it."

Jessica felt her own pussy swelling and becoming more than a little slick as, for the following quarter hour or so, she was treated to the sounds of a firm tongue and talented lips caressing the obviously wet, intimate center of the lucky young woman's being. There was little dialogue to tell Jessica exactly what was going on, but her fertile imagination constructed the scene in her mind: the woman, stretched out across the couch, her legs spread widely and supported by Vic's strong arms. Jessica imagined dainty feet -- not unlike her own -- settled upon the shoulders of a sun-bronzed, Adonis physique while the man busied his tongue between the folds of a smooth-shaved pussy.

By the time the woman announced her orgasm with a long series of caloric gasps and hoarse cries, Jessica's hand had wandered beneath the waistband of her house pants, fingers stroking slick lips and a greedy, demanding clitoris. The TV was forgotten, and the beer sat neglected upon the coffee table. The ripe aroma of her own arousal filled the air about her like a cloud.

"I guess you liked that," Vic said at last, adding a confidant chuckle at the end of his statement.

"Oh, fuck yes," the woman replied. There was more kissing, more sighs and giggles and moans.

"Your turn," the woman said at last.

Oh, good girl, Jessica thought, feeling a twitch in her pussy. Returning the favor . . . .

"Don't do it just to please me," Vic said as the sounds of movement indicated, at least as far as Jessica was able to deduce, a reversal of the couple's positions on the couch.

"Baby," the girl said along to the sounds of thick coarse fabric -- denim, Jessica realized -- being dragged along skin. "I almost never get off from a guy going down on me. Trust me, you deserve what I'm gonna do for you. Just, um . . . you know, let me know when you're gonna get off, okay?"

"You don't want me to come in your mouth," the man observed.

"It's just . . . it's not the taste or anything, it's just . . . I don't know. Maybe, okay? But tell me first before you come."

Jessica clucked her tongue. She must be young, she thought. Probably had a bad experience giving head.

"I promise," Vic said. There was more crinkling of leather, then a long, drawn-out sigh from him. Jessica licked her lips, grinning, imagining a wet tongue sliding along what would have to be an impressive, swollen shaft. She wondered if Vic was circumcised or not. Personally, she had always preferred at least some foreskin on a man's cock. She was fascinated by the way it moved, sliding back and forth like a velvet sheath.

As when Vic pleasured his lover, there were few words to help Jessica construct the scene in her head as the woman gorged herself on Vic's manhood. Given the wet slurping sounds, the many gasps and moans and occasional hisses of pleasure, the accompanying muffled giggles and cooing sounds from the woman's cock-filled mouth, Jessica had no problem imagining the impressively-built Vic sitting like a king upon his throne, legs parted for the woman who knelt between them, her head bobbing furiously, lips becoming wet and frothy, one hand stroking the thick shaft while the other caressed swollen testicles ready to burst.

"Casey . . . Casey, baby, I'm gonna come." The desperation was telling in Vic's voice. He was on the verge of exploding, Jessica could tell. Bet he's hoping she'll take it in her mouth . . . .

But Vic's lover, Casey, gasped loudly with a wet popping and slurping sound which indicated the vacation of her mouth by Vic's cock. Loud wet smacking sounds filtered through the crackling monitor. "Come on, baby!" she urged hotly. "Do it for me! Come on!"

Jessica's fingers delved between the lips of her sex, into moist heat beyond, clutching tightly as she witnessed the arousing sounds of Vic's orgasm. She could imagine his impressive cock spasming in Casey's tight grip, spraying thick ribbons of semen in the air that would splash onto his lover's arm and pumping hand, upon his abdomen and perhaps even getting a little on the young woman's face. And she imagined his somewhat mild disappointment.

Grace's crying interrupted the affectionate giggles of sexual aftermath, compelling Jessica to withdraw her hand from within her pants and rise from the couch. As she headed to the bedroom door, she thought smugly, I would've let him come in my mouth.

*****

"That's wild!" Kelly exclaimed after Jessica had briefly related the story of the previous evening. The two women were shopping, as was their typical Tuesday afternoon activity when Jessica had a short day at the office and there were a couple of hours to kill before she had to pick up Grace from daycare.

"It was pretty surrealistic," Jessica admitted, looking over a selection of Donna Karan blouses on the discount rack. While she enjoyed a fairly impressive salary, Jessica had always been a frugal shopper. It was a habit learned during her years as a penny-pinching grad student.

"You know who they are?"

Jessica shook her head. "No, but I got the impression it was her apartment they were in."

"Well, she's gotta live close," Kelly commented, tossing back her wispy red hair. "Those monitors don't have a real great range."

"She doesn't live in my building, I'm sure of that. They're all families. But the next building over is all one-bedroom units. She's probably in one of those. I figure she's kind'a young. Maybe a college student."

"What about the guy?"

Jessica shrugged. "Only thing I'm sure of about him is that he's older. Maybe my age, maybe over thirty. But he's definitely not some dumb college frat guy."

Kelly chuckled impishly. "Bet you'd love to have a guy like that waiting in the wings when you need some," she remarked cattily.

Jessica groaned. "Sure. Some hot hunk to fuck when I can't stand being horny anymore, then send him on his way with a kiss on the cheek. Give him twenty bucks for cab fare."

Kelly grimaced. "Well, look who's gotten so cynical."

Jessica sighed, flipping through an endless rack of identical white cotton tops, not one of which was below a size eight. "You know, everything really does change when you have a baby," she said with more than a little frustration. "Most of it's good, like watching her grow, and watching her walk and learn and talk. But some of it really sucks ass, you know? Like not having a social life anymore. Don't get me wrong; I love Grace. Nothing on this planet will ever be more important to me than her. And that's why I feel so guilty about doing anything without her."

"Well, hey, I'd suggest bringing her out on Halloween, but I don't think the bars would let her in."

Jessica shot her friend a look. "Hey, I'm being serious here."

"Yeah, and so am I," Kelly insisted, turning to face her best friend squarely. "Look, I get it. You're a single mom. Ellie's the center of your life. That's the way it should be. I'd be that way, too. But damn it, Jessica! There's nothing wrong with the occasional bout of hedonism once in a while. You wanna be a martyr all your life?"

Jessica gritted her teeth. "I know what you're saying. And I know you're right. But that's not gonna stop me from thinking about every action I take, because everything I do is gonna affect Grace, too."

Kelly smiled supportively, taking Jessica by the shoulders. "You know when we were kids, and I'd come over? You remember how your mom was? All those lectures about doing the right thing and putting family first?"

Jessica nodded. "I believe in all that."

Kelly's smile was unwavering, but it was mitigated by the firm sense of maturity in her eyes. "I do, too, hon. But there's a lot to be said for sanity. You gotta cut loose once in a while, otherwise it's all gonna build up. And then it's gonna explode."

"You afraid I'm gonna explode?"

Kelly's face became serious. "I've seen it happen," she said. "Like, after you found out you were pregnant."

Jessica groaned. "Okay, look. I admit I freaked out. But that wasn't because I was pregnant, it was because of that deadbeat asshole who--"

"Jess! Jess!" Kelly exclaimed, fixing her best friend with a steadying look. "You forgetting I've been here all this time? I know it's not easy for you. And that's exactly why I need you to come out and let your hair down. You need this, Jess. You know you do. Otherwise you're gonna end up drinking yourself six feet under."

Jessica nodded reluctantly. "Like my mom, you mean."

Kelly gave her friend an apologetic look. "You know you don't wanna be a human sacrifice all your life."

Jessica's shoulders fell. "You always were my big sister."

Kelly beamed knowingly. "Yep."

*****

With the toys cleared up and the TV channel changed from kids' cartoons to something a little more adult-minded, Jessica kissed her daughter good night, tucking the flower-print blanket around Grace's neck and making sure the bottle filled with Pedialyte lay within reach. Closing the door to the bedroom, Jessica headed for the shower, sighing with relief as the city was washed away from her skin. She didn't bother with anything other than a loose cotton shirt after she dried off, and returned to the living room, eying the baby monitor speculatively.

But after a couple hours of somewhat entertaining programming, the monitor remained silent other than the occasional moan or murmur from Grace. Twice, Jessica checked in on her daughter, disentangling the infant from her blanket and retrieving the stuffed orange bear that had been tossed over the edge of the playpen turned crib.




Saving Grace



Eventually, she switched off the TV and the lights, and took up the monitor on her way to the bedroom. It was after eleven, and while the Jessica Chan of three years before would have considered such a time to be the beginning of a night, the new Jessica was different.

The air was cool as it washed over her naked body when she emerged from the bathroom. Teeth brushed and hair down, Jessica slid beneath the covers of her four-poster oak bed, briefly thinking how ridiculous it was that she slept alone upon such a large mattress. She checked the monitor one last time, then snuggled herself around a large body pillow beneath the covers, enjoying, at the least, that simple comfort. The insistent approach of sleep was close at hand when she closed her eyes.

Faintly, through the monitor, came the creaking sound of a door being opened. "Come on, baby," echoed the familiar voice of Casey.

"Right behind you."

A coquettish giggle. "Ooo. I like the sound of that."

Jessica perked in her sleep, though her eyes remained closed. She listened peripherally to impassioned kissing, imagining the scene once more. Her fantasy image of Vic had him clothed in a dark silk shirt and tailored slacks, a glittering watch around his wrist and leather loafers on his feet. She imagined him with deep blue eyes. Maybe a small gold cross on a chain around his neck, which would sway enticingly during sex.

More crackling of leather beneath skin. Jessica eventually realized that Casey had gotten on her knees on her couch, and she imagined the young woman naked, back arched, gripping the back of the sofa as she pushed her hips out. Vic knelt behind her, licking her sex to get her ready, then stood, naked as well -- with the body of a god, Jessica was certain -- and pushed his cock inside her.

Jessica listened in amazement for over an hour, rolling onto her back and allowing fingers to dance madly between her thighs as Vic drew out one orgasm after another from the young and eager Casey. She wailed like a banshee with each tumultuous sexual explosion. Jessica figured the couple switched positions two or three times, but her impression was that Casey liked it from behind.

Finally, Vic announced his orgasm, accompanied by a gasp from Casey and the tell-tale snapping of a latex condom. Listening to the woman's giggling squeals as her body was undoubtedly pelted with dollops of spurting semen, Jessica convulsed in her own orgasm, imagining herself in Casey's place. She could almost feel the warm, heavy drops of fluid falling onto her back and buttocks, dripping slowly down her outer thighs.

Licking her fingers, listening to the ghostly voices of lovers who lay sated and cuddling, Jessica returned to the land of slumber, the heady cloud of her own pleasure mitigated by the knowledge that she was still alone.

*****

She pulled the silver SUV into a spot before the apartment complex' clubhouse, adjacent to which lay the mailboxes for the community. Jerking her key free of the ignition, and giving little Grace a smile and tickle to the infant's chin, Jessica stepped quickly from her car and marched toward the row of mailboxes. She hated leaving her daughter for even such a brief time, considering all the urban horror stories she had heard about carjackings and infants being tossed out the windows of stolen cars. But, within the community in which she lived, and being just a minute or so . . . .

She turned the key, opened the box. Two bills and a letter with the addresses hand-written. Jessica sighed inwardly upon reading her former lover's return address on the latter. Part of her hoped she would never hear from him again.

"Asshole," she muttered aloud.

"You too, huh?"

Jessica frowned, looking up from her mail. A pretty young blonde girl in a striped halter and boy shorts stood a few feet away, retrieving her own daily dose of bad news from her own mailbox. Before Jessica could respond, the girl continued.

"Guys can be pieces of shit sometimes, can't they?"

Jessica worked her jaw, regarding the letter in her hand. "Sometimes. But you can't say it's not our fault for getting involved with them."

The girl laughed. "True that," she said. "Like, why do we fall for the bad boy type to begin with?"

Jessica finally turned to face the younger woman. She wore an expression that was both parental and sympathetic. "A couple hundred psychologists have already tried to figure that out," she said. "They didn't have an answer, either."

The blonde rolled her eyes. "So we're screwed?"

Jessica rolled her shoulders. "If we're lucky. And then, if we're not."

The girl laughed loudly. "No shit, right?"

Jessica laughed as well. Feeling a moment's worth of good faith, she offered her hand. "I'm Jessica. Building seven."

"Really?" the girl asked, gracing her fingers over Jessica's own. "I live in building eight, right next door. My name's Casey."

A tiny knot twisted in Jessica's gut as she realized she was speaking with the lucky recipient of the one and only Vic's amorous attentions. Still, she managed to maintain her friendly smile. "Nice to meet you."

"So what's your bad news?"

Jessica made a sound, glancing to Jason's letter. She waved it briefly. "Deadbeat dad. You?"

Casey flashed her own correspondence. "Ex-boyfriend. Trying to win me back. Loser."

Jessica couldn't help herself. "You got someone better?" she asked.

Casey's eyes darkened for a moment before they dipped. "You ever meet Mr. Right?"

"If I did, I wouldn't be a single mother."

Casey lolled her head back and forth. "True," she muttered, then took a deep breath while radiating a lovestruck smile. "Well, I think I have. This guy's fucking amazing. He brought roses on the first date, took me someplace nice, and didn't even try anything. 'Course, that just made me want to jump him on the second date."

Jessica laughed. "Maybe that's what he wanted."

"Maybe," Casey agreed. "Whatever. It worked. He's not like most guys. He opens doors for me and everything. And he's got a cool job. He's the whole package, you know?"

Jessica allowed herself to smile. "Sounds like you found The One."

The blonde grinned and winked. "Could be," she said. "Well, it was nice to meet you. Gotta go."

Jessica watched the buoyant girl prance away, the warmth draining from her face. She looked back to the letter in her hand, while simultaneously anticipating yet another pathetic evening of cable television and perhaps another round of aural voyeurism. The jealous pang she felt regarding Casey's happiness only made matters worse.

Resignedly, she bowed her head and made her way back to the car.

*****

"My Dear Jessica,

I wish I could really explain myself to you and why I can't be there the way I probably should be. But it's not easy for me. I've got so much going on with grad school and work. I never thought I'd have to worry about being a father too.

I really want to be part of Grace's life. She's so important to me. I hope that eventually I can be active in her life, but like I said, I've got so much going on. It wouldn't be fair to her, or to you. I'd just end up hurting all of us. Plus, to be honest, I have a girlfriend now. She's very important to me too. I think I'm going to ask her to marry me.

As bad as I feel about all this, at least it's not like you're hurting for money. You can take care of Grace a lot better than I ever could. That's good. I figure she needs her mother a lot more than her father anyway. Still, I want to be involved in her life. Well, you know, as much as I can be. I hope you understand that if Julie and I get married and have a family, I have to think of them first and--"

Jessica crumpled the letter in her hand without reading the rest of it. With a sour taste in her mouth and the beginnings of yet another tension headache forming above her eyes, she cast the letter into the trash before joining her daughter on the floor before the TV. She sang along with Jack's Big Music Show, laughing and grinning the way a good parent would whenever her child made the effort to mimic what she heard.

"Even if it's just you and me, sweetheart," she said as she cradled her daughter in her arms. "You're gonna be the happiest baby ever."

*****

"Ma! Ma! MA!"

Jessica shot up from bed, her daughter's tortured screams tearing through the monitor on her bedside table acting like a dagger of anguish stabbing through her skull. Although befuddled from sleep, she jerked open the bedroom door, stumbling past the kitchen and through the living room before reaching Grace's door. Shoving it open, she found her precious little girl sitting up, pale little face glowing and glistening with tears. Jessica raced to the side of the pen and scooped her baby up, holding her close. The shuddering of Grace's fear vibrated between them.

"It's okay, baby, mommy's here. Mommy's here."

"M-ma . . . ."

Jessica held the trembling baby against her, squeezing her eyes against her own tears. The scene was one that had been occurring far too frequently in recent days. Whatever the source of Grace's onset of nightmares, Jessica prayed it would pass. Not for her own sanity, but for her daughter's.

As she rocked back and forth, feeling her heartbeat slow to normal, Jessica clutched baby Grace against her bosom, whispering reassuringly in the infant's ear, stroking and patting her back. Finally, she felt Grace sag, little hands sliding down along her arms. Grace was asleep once more, reassured of safety by her mother's presence. Carefully, Jessica set the baby back in the pen, covered her with the fleece blanket once more.

"I'll always be here, baby," Jessica whispered as she retreated toward the door. "Mommy's always gonna take care of you."

*****

Even just a few days before Halloween, the afternoons were still warm enough in the Southwest to enjoy getting a little sun by the pool. The water may have been too chilly, but Jessica had no intention of taking a swim. Especially since she had to keep an eye on baby Grace.

She thought it amusing, pushing the stroller along the polished and stained wooden planks that surrounded the apartment complex' Olympic-sized pool, how men ogled her in her black bikini, yet shied away from approaching her because of the baby's presence. She could see the way they made comments amongst themselves, then shook their heads forlornly. As if saying, "Damn she's hot. Too bad she's got a kid, or I'd be all over that."

In a way, Jessica was thankful for the mitigating presence of her daughter. Grace was like a brilliant, glowing, flashing "stop" sign that kept lecherous men at bay. Better than any cold look for discouraging unwanted attention. Still, a powerful part of Jessica's libido wouldn't have minded the attentions of some of the toned young studs that lingered by the pool in loose trunks, their six-pack abs proudly displayed.

Alas, she thought wistfully, making sure the shade on the stroller covered her sleeping child. She lathered up with tanning oil and wiped her hands before reclining back on one of the lounges with a dogeared copy of a Laurel K. Hamilton novel. Jessica wasn't so much interested in vampire fiction, but she enjoyed the sexual aspects.

Gently rocking the stroller with her foot, peripherally listening to some of the kids playing in the water, Jessica didn't notice at first the approach of the woman beside her until she heard her name called.

"Hey, Jessica. Mind of I sit by you?"

Jessica glanced up with a slight start, looking through the dark haze of her sunglasses at the lithe blonde in the tiny blue bikini. Casey dropped her towel on the lounge beside Jessica's. Her lightly-tanned skin glistened already with a film of coconut-scented oil. "Sure," Jessica said with a smile.

"Safety in numbers," The younger woman said with a conspiratorial nod which indicated the various young men about the pool.

Jessica grinned and laughed softly. "I'll protect you."

Casey laughed as well, kicking off her flip-flops and easing back onto the lounge. She sipped from a bottle of Aquafina. "Your baby's adorable," she commented. "How old is she?"

"Fifteen months," Jessica stated proudly.

The young blonde bit her lip longingly, staring into the stroller. "Sometimes I think I wanna have a baby so bad," she said. "But I'm not even out of college. 'Course, half my friends got knocked up in high school. It's almost like it's expected nowadays."

Jessica shrugged. "Well, I can't say I'm the best authority on precaution," she said with a meaningful look. "Grace wasn't exactly planned. But I wouldn't give her up for the world."

Casey smiled broadly. "See, that's the difference. Most of my friends who've got kids, they act like it's this big drain on their social life. All they do is bitch about how much fun they're not having."

Jessica inhaled deeply. "Yeah, it's a big change, but really, when it comes down to it, nothing's more incredible than watching a tiny little person growing up. It changes everything, and yeah, it's not always roses, but it really is worth it."

"Is her dad around?" Casey asked casually, then recanted with an apologetic look. "Oh, shit. That's right. Deadbeat."

Jessica shrugged sagely. "Like I said, she wasn't planned, and it was obviously too much to expect her father to step up. Guess some of it's my fault for fooling around with a guy too young for me."

The blonde frowned with a funny smile stretching her lips. "What's too young for you? I thought you were, like, my age."

Jessica laughed. "Let's just say I'm getting dangerously close to thirty."

"No way! I totally thought you were, like, maybe a year or two older than me!"

"Hopefully I can keep that up for another decade."

"Wow. Hey, good for you. Seriously."

Jessica blushed. "Thanks," she said, shifting with a bit of discomfort. She had never taken flattery well, even when it was honest. "So, um, how's your Mr. Right?"

Casey grinned, pale blue eyes flashing. "Mmm. Gets better every day. Fuck, I think I'm in love. I never thought any guy would make me feel the way Vic does."

No kidding, Jessica thought, reflecting on the evening before, when she had once more played the part of the clairaudial voyeur. He had you screaming for almost an hour last night. "That's his name?" she asked innocently. "Vic?"

"Yeah, that's him," Casey said dreamily. "Vic. Vic Pisano. God! Can you even imagine a sexier name?"

Jessica chuckled. "Oh, you got it bad, girl," she remarked.

Casey laughed, biting her lip, undoubtedly reminiscing about her lover. "Yeah, I guess I do. Never felt this way about any guy I ever dated. But Vic's really different. He's older than me, and way more mature than anyone I've ever been with."

"That definitely helps," Jessica agreed.

"So, what about you? You got a guy?"

Jessica's smile evaporated. "Guess you could say I'm still waiting."

Casey looked uncomfortable. "Damn. Almost makes me feel guilty for being happy."

The older woman shook her head with a disarming laugh. "Hey, don't feel sorry for me. My baby's way more important than any man. I figure, maybe I'll meet someone, maybe I won't. But it won't really matter either way as long as I can raise my daughter right."

Casey gave Jessica an inscrutable look. "You know, that's the coolest fuckin' thing I've ever heard."

Jessica rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses, but her smile remained. "Fountain of wisdom, that's me."

The blonde laughed. "Know what? I wish we'd met sooner. Specially since I'm moving out next week."

Jessica frowned. "Why are you moving out?"

Casey chewed her lip thoughtfully, looking uncomfortable. "Well, it's kind'a freaky. Like, freaky scary."

The furrow on Jessica's brow deepened. "What, you got a stalker or something?"

"No, nothing like that," the younger girl said, then sat up, swinging her legs to the polished wood planks below them. "Look, I don't wanna weird you out or anything."

Jessica suddenly glanced to her baby, asleep in blissful ignorance. She glanced back to Casey with alarm evident on her face. "Hey, if something's going on around here--"

"It's not a big deal," Casey insisted. "Well, not to you. It's just that . . . okay, I got this friend. She's a serious geek girl. Spends way too much time online. See, she found out that a girl got killed in my apartment a couple years ago. Two years ago on Halloween, to be exact."

Jessica's heart flipped in her chest and she sat bolt upright. "Jesus!" she exclaimed. "They ever find who did it?"

Casey squirmed, fidgeting with her hands. "Um . . . no. That's what kind'a freaks me out. Like, I don't think I'm in any real danger, but still . . . ever since I found out, I'm almost afraid to be alone in my own place. Good thing Vic's been staying over almost every night."

"No shit. I'd be afraid, too."

"It's a real shame, too," the blonde continued. "When I first checked out the apartment, it was perfect. Everything I wanted. Like, it felt like home. But now . . . I can't stay there anymore. I don't know if I believe in ghosts or anything, but ever since I found out, it's almost like I'm not the only one living there."

Jessica swallowed dryly. "Guess I can't really blame you for wanting to move out."

"Yeah," Casey said, then made the effort to brighten. "But, hey, I didn't wanna freak you out. Not like it happened in your building or anything."

Jessica nodded slowly. "Yeah. Right."

*****

"Oh! Look at you! You're scary!"

The young boy, maybe six or seven, grinned beneath the oversized goblin half-face mask he wore and expectantly held out the black nylon bag engraved with "Trick or Treat." Jessica dutifully dropped a couple of dum-dums into the bag, then smiled up at the boy's mother standing a few paces behind him on the landing.

"Say 'thank you,' Jeremy," the mother instructed.

The boy looked sheepish as he turned away. "Thank you," he muttered shyly. His mother rolled her eyes, then followed her son down the steps.

Jessica watched them depart. The sun was just setting, casting the sky in deep orange and crimson hues. A cool wind blew, carrying the scents of pumpkin pie and incense. Can't wait until I can take Grace trick-or-treating, she thought. She looked back, watching her daughter trying to dance in the cumbersome bunny costume while watching a DVD episode of The Wiggles. She laughed, fawning over the sight. Nothing could be cuter, she thought, than a clumsy baby in rabbit ears and a fuzzy cotton suit.

The sound of a car pulling into one of the spaces before her building brought Jessica's attention back outside. The doors of a champagne-colored Cadillac popped open, disgorging its passengers. Jessica groaned inwardly, yet with a smile, as a busty Elvira stepped from the passenger side, replete in a black gown with an NC-17 neckline that revealed the swell of her impressive breasts. The driver was an older woman who shared much of Kelly's Irish heritage, but was more conservatively dressed.

"Happy Halloween!" called Kelly as she advanced up the stairs toward Jessica's apartment.

Jessica laughed, meeting her best friend with a kiss on the cheek. "Wow. You look--"

"Like a complete slut," barked Kelly's mother from behind the busty redhead. "Since when did Halloween become an excuse to dress like a tramp?"

Kelly rolled her eyes, allowing her mother to pass into Jessica's apartment. "Times change, mom."

The older woman grumbled something under her breath, but her demeanor changed once she caught sight of baby Grace. "Ooo! Look at the cute bunny-girl!"

Grace squealed happily, jumping up and down before allowing Kelly's mother to pick her up. Jessica watched from the doorway, a relieved smile crossing her face. Beside her, Kelly settled a hand to Jessica's shoulder.




Saving Grace



"See? Told ya. Everything's gonna be fine. Now, let's get Pocahontas out of the closet and go find some available vampires to hook up with."

Jessica laughed, feeling both a release of tension and a swell of excitement. She missed the days of carefree hedonism more than she thought she had. "Sure," she agreed with a firm nod. "Just give me a minute."

*****

Grace's absorption in an On Demand episode of Backyardigans made it easier for Jessica to slip through the door. She knew from experience that to say good-night to her daughter would only result in a bout of crying which Kelly's mother would then have to deal with. Grace was not yet at the age that separation anxiety would come into play on its own. Better to step out quietly and let her child be distracted by the wonders of instructional TV and the doting attentions of a woman whom Jessica could almost consider a mother figure herself.

Heading down to the car, Jessica felt more than a little revealed in the skimpy mini-dress of beige, taupe, and ecru that was the foundation of her Pocahontas costume. Even with the leather frill hanging from the crotch-level skirt, Jessica felt exposed. Her hair in twin braids hanging down over her breasts, face made up to look young and "sluttishly innocent" as Kelly had put it, Jessica was beginning to feel if a night of adult Halloween revelry was such a good idea.

"God damn you look hot!" Kelly exclaimed, stepping back to drink in her best friend's appearance. "Shit, girl, you almost make me wish I was lesbo!"

Jessica blushed, rolling her eyes. "I don't wanna stay out late," she insisted.

Kelly sighed, the very movement nearly exposing her breasts from beneath the black fabric of her costume. "Look, relax, okay? Mom's gonna take care of Ellie, I promise. The only thing you gotta worry about is the one that might be pushing up between your legs, got it?"

Jessica frowned. "What, is this only about getting me laid?"

Kelly stepped close and let her eyes smolder into her best friend's. "Got a problem with that?"

A weary laugh escaped Jessica's throat. "Don't take pity on me, okay?"

Kelly scoffed. "Pity? Fuck that. Just call me your fairy fuckmother."

Jessica arched a dubious brow. "'Fairy fuckmother?'"

"Yep. Okay, time for inspection. Breath mints?"

Jessica sighed, then tapped the little leather clutch she carried. "Check."

"Keys?"

"Check."

"Cell-phone?"

An inner groan. "Check."

Kelly smiled cattily. "Condoms?"

Jessica huffed, fixing her friend with a stare. "Check. Can we go now?"

The redhead only laughed, then grasped her friend's hand. "Sounds like you're ready to get your frontier plundered, Poke-a-hontas."

"After you, Whore-vira," Jessica shot back.

Kelly narrowed her eyes. "Ooo. Good one."

*****

The music started pummeling the two ladies as they made their way from the parking lot of the club to the front entrance. Gaudy glowing signs advertised drink specials and a Halloween prize for "sexiest male and female costume" above the marquee of the nightclub. Dozens of costumed patrons waited in line for their chance to get in as Kelly led Jessica by the hand, blatantly bypassing the line to head straight for the front. The bouncer at the door was a huge, burly man with a black shirt stretched across his thick chest and belly, beneath a bald head sporting a braided blonde beard.

"Hey, Tim," Kelly spoke in a flirtatious tone, sidling close to the bouncer. "I'm on the list. Elvira and friend."

Tim's thin brow arched for a moment as his eyes roamed over Kelly's impressive features. "There's a special cover charge," he said.

Kelly licked her lips seductively. "I'll pay you later, promise," she said.

Tim chuckled, shaking his head. "Go on, you horny bitch," he growled, giving Kelly's ass a smack with his meaty hand. He briefly glanced over Jessica, his eyes betraying interest. Soon, both women were through the doors and heading down a dark-painted hall toward the club proper. Behind them, the jealous protests of patrons waiting to be let in died away.

"What the hell was that all about?" Jessica yelled to her friend above the pounding bass shuddering in the air.

Kelly rolled her shoulders casually. "Nothing. Just a blowjob between friends," she said with a wink "Now, come on! Let's get loose! First round's on me, and if we do it right, we won't have to pay for another drink all night!"

Jessica took a breath as her best friend cast aside the dark curtain that revealed the chaotic, multicolored pandemonium of the nightclub beyond. A techno version of "Monster Mash" resounded in the air above a writhing mass of bodies upon the dance floor. Taking a breath to steel her nerves, Jessica stepped through the curtain.

*****

She was surprised to find that it only took a a couple of shots of Bacardi and a single Corona before Jessica gave into hedonistic impulses which had lain dormant for two years. Sashaying out to the dance floor, she no longer cared about the brazenness of her costume and instead gave in to the intoxicating music and the aroma of sweaty, aroused bodies. She danced with no one in particular and with everyone in general. Her movements were fluid but reckless, sensual but chaotic. The primal nature of her dancing was both inspiring and intimidating to others.

Kelly was lost in the crowd in short order. Jessica briefly noticed her carefree friend leaving the main floor, following the burly bouncer toward a dark door. She grinned ruefully, imagining a large-breasted Elvira on her knees servicing the bulky doorman. Bet he won't even last five minutes, Jessica thought. But her cynicism faded swiftly, replaced by sheer base enjoyment of the moment. She realized quickly that Kelly had been right: I do need this, Jessica thought.

Men approached, but she ignored them. Jessica was enraptured by the music, by the simple unadulterated hedonism of being watched and desired. Like a goddess come to Earth, she was aloof and uncaring, reveling in the basic pleasure of dance.

"Hey, sexy, looks like you had too much to drink!"

She barely heard the loud voice above the constant din, and turned to see a pudgy man clad in a black bodysuit, over which he wore a square white carapace emblazoned with the legend "Breathalyzer" and a pair of colorful painted-on dials. Over his crotch was a short length of white pipe. Jessica gave the man a dubious look.

"Get it? I'm a human breathalyzer!" cried the man, laughing. "Go on, blow me."

Jessica's eyes flickered down. "Well, if the pipe was bigger, I might consider it," she said, just loud enough that he could hear, then turned and strutted away. She was grinning as she left the rejected man behind, luxuriating in her cocktease status.

"Hey, Pocahontas! How 'bout a pow-wow?" called another man, this one clad in a Hellboy get-up.

She laughed. "At least you got the name right!"

Heady from all the attention and loosened from the alcohol, Jessica headed for the nearest bar, glowing like the flame within a Jack-O-Lantern. Even if she didn't deign to take up some lucky man on his libidinous offer, the attention was enough to inflate her ego.

"Corona," she announced when the biker-dressed bartender gave her an expectant look. "Dressed." She held out a five when the bottle was handed to her.

"My treat," came a voice, just before a strong, tanned arm came into view, the hand at the end of which covering hers which held the bill. Jessica glanced to her right, momentarily annoyed, but the sight of the arm's owner made her pause. He looked boyish but charming, handsome but not overly so. Clad in a short toga with a laurel rest upon dark curls, he looked like a Roman senator on holiday. His soft green eyes reflected the lights of the club, looking alert and disarming. He smiled upon Jessica, meeting her gaze. "I insist."

Jessica shrugged. "Sure," she agreed, slipping the five back into her tiny clutch. "But I'm not promising anything."

His smile was unwavering. "Neither am I," he retorted, then called to the bartender. "Skyy on the rocks with a twist." He set a twenty on the bar and leaned against the polished brass rail, facing Jessica.

"Let me guess," she said, admiring him briefly. He was well-built, but not obsessively so. The part of his torso which lay exposed revealed a chest just hairy enough to be attractive, but not so much as to invoke comparisons to Austin Powers. She smirked in amusement upon spying the sandals complete with leg straps. "Julius Caesar?"

He narrowed his eyes in bemusement. "Well, ol' Gaius wasn't exactly known as a lover, was he? I was going for Marc Anthony."

"Hmm. Didn't he commit suicide?"

"He died for love," the man said with a wink.

Jessica laughed softly, finding herself warming up to the man. "There are worse reasons, I guess."

The man mocked a frown. "Ouch. Cynical much?"

Jessica tittered. "Maybe," she admitted.

"So, do you just want me to call you Pocahontas all night?" he asked baitingly.

She blushed and offered her hand. "Jessica."

His fingers were strong yet delicate against hers. "Raymond," he introduced, holding her hand just a touch longer than would be considered casual. "Are you here with anyone?"

Jessica glanced around briefly, not really expecting to see Jessica in the sea of more than two thousand partiers. "Came here with a friend," she said. "God knows who she's doing now."

Raymond chuckled, taking his drink from the bartender and leaving a few dollars for a tip. As if it was natural, the two of them moved away from the bar to allow others to crowd in, and found a small table nearby. "Let me guess: she's the wild child, and you're the quiet, mousy librarian type."

Jessica sighed with a smile. "Used to be the other way around," she said wistfully.

He cocked his head in interest. "So, what happened? Or is that too personal a question for a first date?"

She arched a speculative brow. "First date?" she asked.

Raymond's eyes darted down. "Sorry. Getting ahead of myself. Must be my overly optimistic nature."

Jessica tilted back her bottle, regarding Raymond with a wary, yet appraising, eye. "Must be," she said guardedly. "We don't even know each other yet."

He smiled cattily. "'Yet,'" he repeated over the rim of his glass. "Key word."

Now it was Jessica who blushed. "Oh, so you want to get to know me," she said, unconsciously moving closer to Raymond along the edge of the small elevated table. "Or do you just want to see what's under my dress?"

He fixed her with a level look. "Yes."

She laughed, rolling her eyes and looking away, if only to hide her rapidly-growing attraction to Raymond. "You're pretty smooth, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "Not for me to decide," he said simple, then sipped his drink again. "See, one of three things happens when I meet a beautiful woman. One, she remains nothing more than a sex object. Two, she opens her mouth and says entirely the wrong thing and suddenly, she's not so hot anymore. Or three . . . ." His eyes sparkled briefly beneath the flashing strobes of the club. "I follow her to a table in the middle of a crowded bar and forget about the rest of the world."

Jessica bit her lip, betraying at least a hint of the arousal that was beginning to make her tiny beige thong darken with moisture. "So, am I just a sex object, or have you forgotten about the rest of the world?"

He blinked for effect. "The rest of the what?"

Her cheeks darkened even more, and she cast her eyes down, feeling a warmth spreading out from her lower abdomen, making her nipples stiffen beneath the flimsy fabric of the dress. "Okay, you're being just a little too smooth."

He smiled and leaned back slightly. "I could always switch to crude locker room jokes," he said. "I'd hate for you to think I'm perfect."

Jessica said nothing for a long moment, content to study her suitor's face and admire his soft and exceedingly kissable lips.

"So, you didn't answer my question," he prompted after a moment.

"Which was?"

"Why you aren't the wild child anymore."

Jessica's enjoyment faded, if only just. "Life changes," she said. "Good job, more responsibility, got a little older, had a baby. You know. Life changes."

Raymond's eyes didn't lose their lustre as he read her face. "Boy or girl?" he asked at last.

She smiled with parental fondness. "A girl. She's a little over a year old now."

"And . . . the father?" Raymond asked probingly.

Jessica sighed. "Elsewhere," she said.

He nodded with dark sageness. "Seems to be the case more and more these days."

She shrugged with a hint of discomfort, but she also felt an almost cathartic need to share her feelings with this man. "Yeah. Funny. Never thought I'd be one of those girls."

"And what girls are they?"

She met his eyes with a momentarily harsh look. "Accidental single mothers."

He nodded, regarding his drink thoughtfully. "Not a person on this planet who hasn't made a life-changing mistake," he said. "But I've always found that chance favors the outcome."

"Meaning what?"

He looked up again, eyes piercing into hers. "Meaning," he said pointedly. "That some accidents aren't accidents at all. They're events that are supposed to happen, leading to outcomes that, overall, are for the better."

Jessica's fingers fidgeted along her bottle. "This is an awfully serious discussion for a first date," she said.

Raymond smiled broadly. "So let's dance."

*****

There was something about him that drew out a maelstrom of reactions from Jessica, from pure arousal to guarded wariness. Raymond was the sort of man she had longed to meet, not just since the arrival of her daughter into the world, but since Jessica had been a teenager pining for Mr. Right. Raymond was an intelligent man, of that there was no doubt, and intelligent men, in Jessica's experience, came in one of two varieties: arrogant and manipulative, or, rarely, understanding and patient. She wondered from which mold her seductive beau had been cast.

The instinctual decision had been made in Jessica's mind by the second song on the dance floor; whatever the events of the evening yet to unfold, she wanted it to end naked and sweaty in bed with Raymond. Near-desperate yearning, aggravated by her aural voyeurism of Casey and Vic's sex life, buffeted like a battering ram against an increasingly quelled inner scream that urged restraint.

By the third song, Raymond had drawn her close, swaying against her to the slow but primal beat of some industrial house music. His breath was warm and sensuous in her ear, just before she felt his lips and talented tongue trail slowly down the side of her neck. She did not protest when his arms encircled her, one hand sliding up along her belly toward the sensitive undersides of her breasts, the other slipping between her thighs. A gasp flew from her lips, lost in the hazy air when his fingers pressed up against her sex, massaging with gentle surety. The single layer of fabric was sticky with moisture, a sure sign of her arousal which Raymond had no trouble reading.

Abruptly, however, Jessica spun around, facing her imminent lover, face slack and flushed. "I wanna go," she said, voice hot and needy.

His eyes searched hers for a moment. He nodded in understanding. "It's late. Baby girl needs you."

Jessica smiled, smoldering with her urgent sexuality. "Baby girl's asleep," she said, her voice audible only to him. "And my bedroom's on the other side of the apartment."

It took him a moment to understand. "Oh," he said, then smiled. "Should, um, should I follow you?"

She cupped his face, then leaned in, brushing her damp lips against his. The kiss was brief but sensuous. "Yes, you should," she whispered.

*****

Finding Kelly was surprisingly easy, Jessica discovered, once she realized that the reason a crowd had gathered around one of the dance floors was because everyone was watching Elvira "getting down." Jessica rolled her eyes once she broke through the crowd, witnessing the stripper moves of her best friend upon the floor. The Elvira costume did little to conceal her rolling breasts as the redhead moved about, and contrasted with the flashes of intimate pink flesh which Kelly displayed.

The crowd applauded Kelly's efforts once she was finished, and the busty woman bowed effusively, face and cleavage flushed. Upon seeing Jessica, she squealed loudly and assaulted her best friend with a tight hug and numerous kisses.

"Hey, pokey-girl, where ya' been?" she asked drunkenly.

Jessica sputtered against the outpouring of toxic fumes from Kelly's lips. "You're trashed," she commented with more than a hint of annoyance.

"Bet'cher ass," Kelly drawled, then laughed again. She noticed Raymond standing patiently in wait, and murmured approvingly. "Ooo. Hey there, stud."

"Uh-uh," Jessica said, supporting her best friend. "He's with me."

Kelly breathed out. "Fucky luckin' you," she bumbled. "Gotta friend?"

"I'm thinking more about getting you home," Jessica said, worried.

"Fu' that," she sputtered. "Ain' goin' home. Wanna party."

Jessica huffed in annoyance. Leave it to Kel to ruin my night, she thought, glancing toward Raymond with an apologetic look. He seemed to understand, for he nodded and raised spread hands, as if to ask, "what can you do?"

"Coming through!"

The commanding voice compelled those still in control of their senses to part before the bulky bouncer as he waded through the sea of bodies. Others were shoved aside. Tim looked upon Kelly with a tired but knowing look, then shifted his attention to Jessica.

"Let me take her home," he suggested, then read Jessica's protective expression. "Look. I've known Kelly for a couple years. You can trust me. I ain't gonna do nothing but get her some coffee and hold her hair back when she decides to sing to the porcelain microphone, okay?"

Jessica struggled with an internal dilemma for a moment, glancing from Kelly to Tim to Raymond. For over an hour, she had been anticipating being alone with her new admirer. But now, she faced the dilemma of taking care of her friend -- as she had done many times before when Kelly was in such a state -- or remanding her over to a man who was as much a stranger as Raymond . . . but from whom she felt similarly trusting vibes.

"My number's in her phone," Jessica said at last, guiding Kelly into Tim's strong arms. He lifted her with ease, curling the drunken, now incoherent girl against him as easily as lifting an infant. "Call me if anything happens, okay?"

Tim smiled and nodded. "I don't take advantage of women," he said matter-of-factly. "Don't worry about her. Go on, enjoy yourself. Let me worry about Kelly."

Jessica smiled reluctantly and nodded. She pushed up on her toes to plant a kiss on Tim's cheek. "Thanks."

*****

It surprised Jessica how swiftly she let go of her worry for her best friend, but something told her Kelly was going to be fine. For whatever reason, she trusted Tim the bouncer to watch over her friend. With that decision firmly in place, she looked forward to time alone with Raymond, feeling both a sense of wonderment and incredulity at the the idea that, of all places, she might have met the sort of man she had been searching for at a nightclub on Halloween night.

Stranger things have happened, she thought as she drove home, feeling only a pleasant buzz from the alcohol she had consumed. She had given Raymond her address and phone number, just in case he lost her on the way.

She pulled into her assigned space before the apartment building and ambled up the stairs. Kelly's mother was awake, seated on the couch, watching vintage reruns on TV Land. She gave Jessica a crooked smile.

"I'm gonna bet Kelly ain't with you."

Jessica shook her head sadly. "No, but she's in good hands."




Saving Grace



The older woman pushed up from her seat. "Let me guess: big guy, bald head, braided beard?"

"Yeah," Jessica confirmed with a worried frown.

Kelly's mother laughed darkly. "I like Tim. Okay, I feel better." She rubbed her hands together, facing Jessica. "I put Ellie down around nine-thirty. She fussed a little bit, but she's been sound asleep since ten. Ain't heard a peep through this thing." She held up the baby monitor.

Jessica took the device, turning it over in her hands for a moment before setting it on the breakfast bar between the kitchen and tiny dining area of the apartment. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "Really."

The middle-aged woman took Jessica's hands. "Honey, I love you like a daughter," she said. "Always have. Things are gonna turn out right for you some day. Trust me."

Jessica smiled sheepishly. "I almost feel bad for paying you to babysit."

"Well, you better not!" the woman exclaimed, then she laughed. "Oh, one more thing. Some girl named Casey came by after you left. Had a little gift for you."

Jessica turned, noticing the basket on the kitchen counter. It was a harvest basket, filled with various summer sausages and cheese. Jessica smiled.

"Guess she figured you might be in the mood for some meat tonight or something."

Jessica echoed the laugh and took out the three folded twenties from her purse. "Thanks again."

The older woman winked. "Any time. Just take care of yourself, and that little one in there. Ain't nothing more important than the next generation. 'Cause, some day, they're gonna be looking out for us."

Jessica nodded in agreement and watched the doughty woman leave, gently closing the front door behind her. With Kelly's mother gone, Jessica raced quickly through the apartment, tidying up a bit here and there. She dabbed on some fresh deodorant and used the toilet, taking care to keep herself clean between her legs. Experimentally, she slipped a finger between still-wet folds and tasted her own nectar.

God, I hope he shows up--

The knock at the front door was soft and subdued, just as Jessica had specified so as not to wake the baby. She felt a jolt of excitement as she headed through the spacious apartment to the front door. A quick glance through the peep-hole made her giggle at the sight of Raymond still with the laurel on his head. Smoothing her hands down her tight dress, she turned the knob.

"Hi."

His eyes drank her in, making no effort to conceal his interest. "You know, I have to admit I was a little worried."

"About?"

"About this being your address. Like, maybe you'd changed your mind or something."

She gave him a seductive look. "Something you'll learn about me," she said, pushing the door open wider. "Once I make up my mind, I'm not about to change it."

He matched her look. "Neither am I," he said, stepping past her and glancing around briefly within the apartment. "Wow. Nice place. Never really liked the looks of these apartments from the outside, but I like what you've done here."

Jessica barely heard Raymond's words, fixated as she was upon the implied promise of intimate coupling. Without a word, she stepped around him and pressed her body against his, settling her arms upon Raymond's shoulders. "You mind if a girl's a little direct?" she asked.

Raymond's chest swelled as he breathed in. "Not at all."

She smiled sexily, then leaned in for a kiss the had them both moaning softly. Hands roamed across bare and barely-covered skin. Finally, Jessica pulled back. "Good," she said breathily. "Because I wanna fuck you."

Raymond made the effort to control himself as Jessica pivoted away. He watched her from behind, his eyes predatory. "Talk about coincidence," he said. "I've been thinking about tasting you all night."

Jessica allowed herself a small smile, enjoying the act of drawing out the pleasure she would soon be enjoying. She headed to the kitchen, glancing to the baby monitor on the breakfast bar briefly before eying the bundle Casey had left. "Care for a snack?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Depends," Raymond responded. "Is it hot, wet, and juicy?"

Jessica smirked, opening her silverware drawer and taking out a long, sharp knife. "Well, I could heat it up, I guess, But I usually prefer my meat raw."

Raymond chuckled in a low tone behind her. "Me, too."

Jessica's smile remained, becoming sultry as she reached into the gift basket. She took down a cutting board from the wall above the sink and pulled out a summer sausage from the gift basket. Behind her on the breakfast bar, she heard the faint moaning of her daughter through the monitor.

"Mind if I ask you something, Raymond?" she asked, passing the razor edge of the knife easily through the sausage.

"Go ahead."

"Does it bother you at all that I have a daughter?"

His voice seemed closer when he responded, but Jessica didn't turn around. She heard Grace moaning again through the monitor, but it was a faint sound, such as the baby often made while sleeping.

"Why should it?" Raymond asked rhetorically.

Jessica shrugged. "It's just that, most guys I meet seem to be a little put off when they find out I have a baby girl."

"I'm not like most men."

She grinned, feeling that familiar swelling in both her chest and between her thighs. "I know. And I hope you don't take it the wrong way when I say that kind of scares me--"

"MA! MA!"

The sudden loud and insistent scream of her daughter through the monitor made Jessica whirl around instinctively with the intention of bolting toward Grace's bedroom door. But she gasped as she found herself staring abruptly into the face of Raymond, who had apparently approached silently behind her. The expression on his face was one of shock and barely-registered pain. His right arm was raised high above his head, fist clenched tightly about the hilt of a folding knife with a wickedly serrated edge.

For a long moment, Jessica stared into Raymond's face, and he into hers. Eventually, their eyes drifted downward, falling upon Jessica's hand, still clutching the long sharp knife which was now buried deep into the center of Raymond's chest. Blood had already begun to soak into the toga, turning pale white into deepest crimson.

"Oh, Jesus," muttered Jessica, letting go of the grip of the knife. Raymond stumbled, mouth working as if to speak, but no words issued forth, only blood which bubbled over his teeth and dripped out from between useless lips.

It took Jessica a moment to understand what had happened. She watched as Raymond toppled back, futilely clutching at the knife in his chest. But he was already dead before his brain registered the fact; nothing he could do would save his life. The kitchen knife had sliced through his heart, while the blade in his own hand fell to the floor, unsatisfied.

With an anguished cry, Jessica stumbled over Raymond's still-twitching body toward Grace's room, throwing open the door. In a matter of moments, she had her daughter in her arms, holding the crying infant close, feeling delicate little arms clutching her neck.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay," Jessica cooed, patting Baby Grace's back. "Mommy's here. Mommy's always here."

"M-ma . . . ."

*****

By the time the various men and women in their uniformed coveralls had left, removing the body and taking whatever evidence they needed, Jessica felt dramatically sober. She sat staring at the TV, holding her daughter against her bosom. Grace had fallen asleep in short order, and had not awakened no matter the activity in the apartment.

Detective Davidge thanked the crime scene investigators as they left, standing in the doorway of the apartment. The information he had been given already had him feeling as if something more had happened than that which the evidence showed. Typical Halloween night, he thought cynically. 

Carefully, he stepped around the edge of the couch and stood before Jessica, watching the alluring woman in her sexy little Pocahontas costume as she rocked gently back and forth. "You okay?"

Jessica glanced up, dark eyes swollen and red. "Should I be?"

Davidge shrugged, then pulled the coffee table further from the couch and sat down upon it. "Guess that depends on your point of view," he said.

"H-he was gonna kill me," Jessica stammered.

The detective nodded. "Looks that way."

Her anguished mind could not resist the question. "Why?"

He sighed. "Well, it's probably too early for speculation, but the knife your attacker had on him looks like the same knife that was most likely used to kill a young lady in this same complex, exactly two years ago. Could be that this Raymond Atwood guy was a serial killer."

Jessica stared at the detective in wonder. "I got the idea he'd been here before. Something he said," she mused, thinking about the bizarre consequences of the night. She shivered, thinking how lucky she had been to have been holding the knife just when Grace had screamed, and how she wouldn't have even had the knife out if not for Casey's gift basket, whom she would not have met if not for the baby monitor, the same monitor through which Grace had screamed, saving her mother's life . . . .

"Miss Chan?"

Jessica gave the detective a weak smile. "Just thinking about all the coincidences," she said.

He smiled back. "Someone once told me there's no such thing as coincidence. Just plans other people make and don't tell you about."

Jessica nodded numbly. "Chance favors the outcome," she muttered, repeating Raymond's strangely philosophical words.

"Well, fortune was definitely on your side tonight," Davidge agreed.

She managed a small laugh. "I should just be happy that Grace and I are safe."

The detective frowned in a wondering way. "Grace?"

Jessica nodded. "My daughter's name. Why?"

Davidge chuckled dryly. "Like you said, coincidences. Grace Mathews was the name of the woman who was killed two years ago tonight."

Jessica stared blankly at the detective for a long moment, then looked down upon her daughter. Baby Grace was awake, with wide dark eyes staring up at her mother, little mouth stretched by a knowing smile that seemed far too mature for a child.

No such thing as coincidence, Jessica thought in amazement, then kissed Grace's forehead.

-finis-

(Thanks for reading. Please don't forget to vote and/or leave a comment below, and make sure to read all the other contest entries as well. Happy Halloween!)



Saving Grace



If you want something 'hot' from the outset this is probably not for you. This is essentially a 'romance'. The basis of this story is the notion that we can be redeemed through love. I was motivated to use a shorter form after reading the story 'Home is Where the Heart Is' by lovecraft68, which I'd recommend. My use of 'Jamie' as the protagonist is a nod in that direction – although my Jamie isn't nearly so nice.


'Love; it is as a chain to a felon or as water to a seed. Some it binds, to remain only what they are. Others it frees, to become only what they are.'



My name's Jamie. Jamie Jensen. Not James, JJ or anything else...just Jamie. This is my story. 

I was born with a bit missing. No, not that you dumbasses! Empathy - the ability to really relate to others. That's supposed to make me a psychopath. You know, a Jonathon Lecter - Silence of the Lambs, Dexter kind of person.

Well it didn't. Not completely anyway. According to the literature, especially DSM – IV TR, the diagnostic bible of mental disorders, I have an antisocial personality disorder but not too bad. I'm a socialised psychopath. That's good, I suppose. I was always precocious – or so I was told, physically, mentally, socially but certainly not emotionally. I always felt different; that's the way it's seemed to me. People always puzzled me and seemed a bit like big, incomprehensible insects but I could play their games.

If you want to experience for a while what I've felt about other people all my life, you can do this. Get on a bus or a train, preferably with only a few people on it, on a warm afternoon. Relax and close your eyes for a while and let the movement lull you for ten minutes or more. Then slowly open your eyes and look at the people around you. Seem unreal, like aliens do they? Does the world seem remote somehow? Do you feel oddly calm, emotionless, like an automaton? Derealisation and depersonalisation – my constant companions.

And no, no history of trauma or abuse. No terrible soul scarring experiences. I am an only child from an upper-middle class family with two normal parents, both of whom still seem to love each other and me. Pretty much I was a happy sociopath if there is such a thing. 

As background, I'm 188cm tall, (6 foot 2 in the old money) and relatively slim and fit without having to do a lot of exercise, thanks Dad. Women have told me that my best features are my dark brown, (sometimes black), eyes and my body. Oh - I so yearn to be appreciated for my fine mind and the sensibility of my soul!

I was twenty four years old doing my half-time final placement to register as a clinical psychologist. Yeah, I know - the irony. And yet, it really suited me. I couldn't understand humans at a natural, experiential level so I was doing it academically and clinically and it seemed to be working. I was good at it and it gave me a bit of camouflage. After all, psychologists are right up there with psychiatrists; regarded as a bit strange.

Here's the weird thing. My clinical supervisor, Madeleine, who operated a private service for abused and traumatised people, was just like me. We'd had long professional and not so professional discussions and gradually discovered this about each other. Originally we just went out for drinks after work which became dinners and even the odd dinner with my family where she impressed my parents mightily. Finally it became bed. Although she was twelve years older than me we'd become 'lovers' – or whatever it should have been called since neither of us believed we could love.

Madeleine had taught and coached me in some things that weren't part of any academic curriculum. She had also arranged for me to seduce some of her friends for her own purposes – always with strict instructions for me about how, where, when and what but never 'why'. She always had her agenda and her own way of deciding who deserved what. She seemed to revel in manipulating and controlling those things known as people around her without them being aware of it. I suppose, to an extent, I was one of those things, although a willing one. A frequent comment from her was, "No punishments or rewards in life, only behaviour and consequences."

***

FRIDAY

We were having dinner at Madeleine's place, which I'd cooked of course since she refused to do anything so mundane, when she raised the topic over dessert. 

"I've got a friend you should meet. Maybe take her out to dinner. I've told her about you – a bit anyway. Her name's Grace. She's a librarian at the university. She's about my age."

"What, another real old bitch to seduce then? Owww!" I gasped as she punched me hard in the chest. "Why do you always hit me?"

"I don't 'always' hit you, only when you deserve it," was her retort.

I pursed my lips and furrowed my brow as I tried to think of an appropriate response. Eventually, "As a psychologist I thought you'd be intellectually evolved enough not to be violent."

She had her often smug look as she said, "Violence works. Study your history. People bang on a lot about achieving things through non-violent means but research clearly demonstrates that in recorded history, groups using violence achieved their goals more often."

I shook my head. "You awe me. You can rationalise anything. Anyway, a librarian needing my special charms – how clichéd. I suppose she wears horn-rimmed glasses, tweed, thick stockings, clunky shoes and always has her hair up?"

Madeleine snorted and indicated with an inclination of her head. "That's a photo of her there, from when we were at university."

I walked over to the sideboard and picked it up. I'd never really paid attention to it before. It was quite large with an obviously expensive, solid silver frame. The black and white photo it contained showed two women, a younger Madeleine looking at the camera with her trademark seductive smile and a slightly taller, slimmer young woman seeming to gaze off into the distance distractedly. She was dressed in pants and a blouse, unlike Maddie's more casual jeans and t-shirt and she had an altogether more 'formal' look. She was certainly not unattractive with a handsome, rather than beautiful face, high cheekbones, sharp features and an unsmiling mouth a trifle too wide for complete symmetry but suggesting a passionate bent. Her hair was cut relatively short in a bob which didn't really seem to suit her somehow. 

I could imagine her fifteen years older, especially as a librarian and my joking comment when I'd said 'tweed...clunky shoes...always has her hair up,' could well prove to be true now.

Madeleine came up behind me, took the photo and placed it carefully back on the sideboard. "Listen to me. You're not to get her enamoured of you and then split, okay? Grace is a good friend and I'd like her to feel a little more confident about herself, that's all. Just dinner and dancing somewhere – she was always a great dancer, I envied her that. And she's smart, genuinely smart, so no condescension, she'll detect it." Maddie stroked my cheek – very unusual. "Here's her work and mobile number," she said, looking very serious and handing me a slip of paper. "She's expecting your call. I think she'll impress you actually."

"Don't call me Ashley," I said, trying to lighten the mood. This wasn't how Madeleine usually gave me my 'missions' and I wondered just how many ulterior motives she had. It made me apprehensive.

* * *

Later that afternoon I was feeling a little nervous as I dialled the number, probably because Madeleine had acted differently about this woman. The call was answered immediately by a pleasant but professional sounding female voice, "Good morning, Art History Collection, Grace Duffield. How may I help you?"

I put on my most affable tone, "Hi Grace. It's Jamie. Madeleine gave me your number. I was hoping we could meet for coffee or better yet, a meal."

There was an extended pause. "Oh...yes...Madeleine said something about ...Jamie...yes..." Then another long interlude of silence. God! This was painful!

I continued undaunted, (well, truly a little daunted), "Is there somewhere you could suggest Grace?" (Seduction Rule 3 - let her choose the initial meeting place so she'll feel more comfortable).

Again, silence on the line for what seemed like ages. I struggled not to fill it and held myself back. "Well I went to a nice place for a staff thing with the women from work a while back – near the University. It's called the 'Dinner Club'. The food was good...and they have a dance floor."

"Okay, that sounds perfect Grace. I'll book if you like. Will seven tomorrow night be okay?"

"Mmmm...yes...that's fine," she said in a tone that indicated it wasn't really fine at all. 

"Shall I pick you up?"

"No. I'll stay back and walk from work. It's not far."

I used my most pleasant and enthusiastic voice. "Great! I'm looking forward to it, (you liar Jamie). The name'll be Jensen. See you about seven, Grace." 

We finished with me mouthing pleasantries and I hung up shaking my head. I hoped Madeleine would appreciate the effort I'd put in.

***

SATURDAY

I was a bit unsure if the young-looking, attractive woman being escorted to my table was Grace until she was very close. She looked a little bewildered as they arrived and started to say to the hostess, "No. I think there's some..."

I stood and interrupted her before she said something that she'd feel embarrassed about later. "Grace? Hi, I'm Jamie." She looked like a doe caught in car headlights. 

The hostess left behind a Grace that seemed almost shocked, not just surprised and I think that's probably why she spoke truthfully if not all that tactfully, "Jamie? Hi...I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting... it's just that you're so much younger than I thought you'd be. Sorry, I didn't mean..." Well, couldn't save her from that one.

I thought I should try and rescue her though. "Well, I could say the same about you. The photograph Madeleine showed me of you two certainly didn't do you justice," I said and it was absolutely true. I know it's overused – 'she took my breath away' but it was hard to believe this beautiful, feminine creature was the same woman in the photo, yet around fifteen years older. The planes of her face were softer; more appealing in some way and the black and white photo had failed to convey that her large eyes, green and shining, really were breathtaking. Her slightly tousled titian tresses tumbled over her shoulders attractively and her simple A – line dress of silver and blue, not too short or tight but elegant on her tall, not quite so slim frame, hinted at some voluptuous treasures within. I shook my head and took a deep breath to settle myself.

Grace's hesitant smile was sweet as I pulled out her chair. "Please, sit Grace. What would you like to drink?" She sat and I resumed my seat. God! It almost looked like she was trembling.

The waitress was approaching and Grace seemed at a loss, "Ummm..." she managed twice.

"Here, have a sip of this and see if you like it." (Seduction Rule 11 - establish a bond). It was a first foray, a suggestion of intimacy without being threatening - unless she was a germ freak. 

Grace almost dropped the glass. She was trembling! She bravely took a small sip, obviously prepared for something unpleasant. The smile she had after she swallowed it made me feel kind of funny. Odd.

"Oh, that tastes lovely and so is the colour. I'll have that, what is it?" 

The waitress had by that time appeared and I said, "Two Vanilla Galliano and tonics with a little lime juice thanks."

She sat with her eyes downcast and I felt that one sudden move from me and she'd bolt for the door. I thought I'd better do something before she came up with some reason to leave. I gently placed my hands on hers and thankfully, she didn't jerk them away as I softly said, "Grace, please relax. We're going to have dinner and that's it."

She exhaled a long breath. Obviously she was pretty stressed and probably ambivalent about our meeting. I continued, my voice as low and unthreatening as possible, "I'll drive you home, walk you to your door and if I'm lucky I'll get a kiss. Okay? No expectations, no pressure – tonight's what you want it to be."

She looked genuinely relieved. "Thank you. I wasn't sure what Madeleine had said about me. I'm sorry if you thought..."

"It's OK, Grace. Dinner and a dance if you can cope with my two left feet, alright? You don't have to do anything. We're both just here to have a nice evening and get to know each other."

Grace looked relieved and actually looked directly at me as she smiled, "Thank you. That would be nice." 

"Good, can we start again?"

She was able to laugh, even if it was a little shaky and her, "Yes, I'd like that," sounded a little more relaxed.

We made small talk – well I asked questions and she answered. Although getting her to talk felt a bit like pulling teeth. I asked her advice about the food and we settled on our entrees and mains, deciding to leave dessert for later. (Seduction Rule 17: Don't order anything that requires fingers to eat or is sloppy and definitely no salads – you'll always end up with something green in your teeth).

"Would you like some wine, Grace?" Hoping she'd say yes and maybe relax a little under its influence.

"Yes that would be nice. Would you pick? I haven't had wine for ages." (Thank the Gods).

"Of course Grace. Maybe a young New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc?"

She smiled and nodded. "That sounds lovely Jamie."

I made small talk amidst the silences until our first courses arrived.

After our entrees Grace nodded enthusiastically and smiled broadly when I asked her to dance and I couldn't help enquiring, "What's that big smile for?"

The smile didn't diminish as she said "I love to dance and it's been so long. Thank you Jamie."

As we walked toward the small wooden dance floor Grace suddenly looked stricken. "Oh God! I don't believe it. There's my boss with her cronies," she said with an inclination of her head, to a nearby table where three women sat.

"Grace? Grace is that you?" came loudly from a plump woman with makeup trowelled on and a very low-cut dress - 'mutton dressed up as lamb,' my mother would have said. Their table was covered with empty glasses rather than plates and they obviously hadn't come here for the food.

"Oh. Hi," Grace said without enthusiasm and introduced me seemingly reluctantly, "Dianne, Jennifer, Susan, this is Jamie."

"Hi!" I put on my bright and friendly mask. "I can see Grace only associates with other beautiful women," I said. Yeah, I was laying it on thick but what the hell; it didn't cost me anything to flatter her boss and workmates.

Dianne, the mutton dressed as lamb, was obviously holding court and took the lead in an interrogation. "So, is this your boyfriend then?" she demanded with a nasty smile.

"Uh, no, not my boyfriend," Grace said hesitantly. I looked at her. She seemed to have withdrawn into herself in front of this Alpha bitch, almost cringing.

With a triumphant look at the other women Dianne said, "I thought not. A relative then?"

Grace looked lost and my anger blossomed at the way she was being treated. Time to let the sociopath out, I thought. I laughed, "Oh no, not a relative." I put my arm around Grace, pulled her into me, which felt really good by the way, and with a wry grin said, "As my pretty girl knows, I'd give anything to be her boyfriend but sadly...she's just using me for sex. Oh well, I can hope."

I almost burst out laughing at the sudden, stunned silence, broken only, in my head anyway, by three jaws simultaneously hitting the floor; four if you counted Grace's.

"Nice to meet you, ladies," I said and couldn't resist adding in a voice that carried to the three crones as I pulled Grace toward the dance floor, "Come on beautiful, let's do some vertical dancing for a change." As we reached the floor and I gently placed my hand on her back and started to move in time with the music, Grace looked caught between shock and anger.

Staring at me intently she spluttered, "My God! How could you say that? What will they think? How can I go into work on Monday?"

I stopped dancing. I placed my hands on her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes which had a very attractive fire in them I hadn't seen before. "Do you really care what those harpies think Grace?" I said forcefully. "And as for work on Monday, just stand tall, with your head back and put on a secret smile – like you know something they don't." I lowered my voice a little and we resumed our dance. "Actually, I think you'll be surprised. They might show you a bit more respect, especially that prime bitch Dianne."

Suddenly she laughed. It was a full yet throaty sound and kind of sexy. "I can't believe you said that." 

I laughed a little too. "Sorry, I really couldn't help myself and you must admit, it did shut them up."

"I thought Dianne was going to pee her pants. You're wicked," she said smacking me lightly on the shoulder. Women just seem to want to hit me.

Dancing with Grace was a delight. She was as excellent a dancer as Maddie had said, so light in my arms and on her feet. We just seemed to fit and the occasional touch of her hip against me was very arousing. She smelt awfully good too – Guerlain, Mitsuko, if I wasn't mistaken and I wasn't. As part of my education Madeleine had exposed me to a lot of very nice smells. Whoa! Calm down boy, I said to myself. I started counting by forty-threes so I wouldn't show my excited state too much. (Seduction Rule 19 – Do not rub an erection, full or partial up against a woman you've just met – unless you've paid for the privilege.)

After some time in my own little cosmos with Grace I heard a soft, "Mmmm," in my ear and Grace intoned, "We should probably go back to our table. It looks like our mains are there."

"Oh, Okay. I hadn't noticed," I said, a bit flustered. Normally it was something I would have been paying attention to and smoothly disengaged and led my partner to the table. I thought I heard a small giggle from Grace.

***

Grace seemed a little more relaxed as we ate our main courses and we almost had a conversation. I started with, "So, you went to uni with Madeleine?"

Grace gave me a condensed history of her time at uni and Madeleine's role in helping a sheltered, naive girl from a small town 'open up to the possibilities of life.' It was Madeleine who encouraged her to go on and do her Masters and although not saying so explicitly, she was also there when Grace had some 'personal problems.'

Finally she asked me about my taste in art and I had to admit, "I'm afraid my art appreciation ended with the Pre-Raphaelites, Grace."

Her eyes opened a little wider, "Truly? Then you're missing so much,"

"Well I'm not really a visual creature. What am I missing Grace?"

As she gave me a synopsis of the development of modern art she was voluble, passionate, articulate and once again, entrancing. She went on to describe her PhD in Art History topic and research. Although some of the language was a mystery to me, her excitement was infectious and I couldn't help but smile.

She finished by saying she had moved here only a couple of months ago as a Subject Librarian in the Visual Arts Department of the Uni Library so she could earn an income and do some more research for her PhD.

We danced again and I became a little more adventurous with my moves and Grace responded perfectly. Madeleine was right; she could really dance and seemed an altogether different person on the dance floor.

As the music ended I moved with Grace into a slight 'dip' and held her there for a few seconds, staring into her eyes and making sure we were in direct line of sight to her boss's table. As we lifted, Grace shook her hair, looked at me slyly and said, "Liar."

"What?" I asked, all innocence, as we walked back to our table hand in hand.




Saving Grace



"So much for 'two left feet,' you liar," she teased.

"Hey Grace, it's because of you, not me. You'd make anyone look good," I responded. For some reason I was pleased that she didn't feel the need to deny it.

***

As we had our dessert Grace actually took the initiative in the conversation. When reading the menu I'd explained to her what 'pot au feu' was and made reference to the Vietnamese 'pho,' one of my favourites which may have been related.

"So you can cook?" she asked, looking a little incredulous.

"Yes. Nothing too fancy. As a student, like most, I lived on fast food and alcohol so when I got my own place I took some cooking lessons, mainly Asian - good enough for me."

I could see Grace was trying hard to say something, then it finally came out, "Perhaps one day you could cook for me?" then she took a quick sip of her drink. Wow! It looked like it was so hard for her to say that. She really was timid but also obviously working mightily against it.

"That would be nice – perhaps breakfast. I'm really good at breakfasts, Grace," I said with a small smirk.

I could see her almost choke on her tokay and she visibly flushed, probably at the imagined circumstances in which we'd be having breakfast together.

I couldn't help but give a little snort at her reaction. "I'm sorry Grace. I'm only teasing. I can't help myself. You blush so prettily."

Although her face was downcast looking into her liqueur I could see a smile spreading. When she raised her eyes to me they had the same soft glow as the pearls at her throat and I felt a shiver go through me. Her mouth, generous and with that slight overbite, lips red and full of promise, captivated me. The rest came without conscious thought as I shook my head slightly. "You've got a beautiful smile too Grace. I think a man would do just about anything to see that smile." (Seduction Rule – Fuck the rules!). The strange thing was it wasn't a line; I meant every word and I think she knew it. 

Grace looked down again but her smile didn't falter. "Thank you," she almost whispered then raised her head and looked at me more directly and confidently. She didn't seem so timid or indecisive now. "I can't remember the last time I've had so many compliments. I think I like it."

I couldn't stop myself. "Well Grace, I'll tell you something that few men and even fewer women know, if you like?"

"Please," she said.

"Okay, but first a question. Who are the most beautiful women in the world?"

"Victoria's Secret lingerie models?" she said, with those amazing eyes looking amused.

I couldn't help but laugh. "That's what I'd expect most guys to say." I looked into those incredible orbs, lost for a moment and finally continued more slowly and seriously, "No, Grace. The most beautiful women in the world...are those who don't even know they are." There was no doubt for either of us that I meant her.

Grace held my eyes for a few long moments and bit her lip then shook her head slightly and breathed, "Phewww. I think I'll just go and freshen up. Won't be long."

What was going on here? Shit! I'd overdone it – I'd told the truth and probably scared her off. But I was enjoying myself and although I felt a powerful attraction to Grace I wasn't using my usual strategies to get a woman into bed. The words just came out by themselves. I was actually enjoying her company and felt, what? I don't know. A little relieved maybe that I didn't have to try and get her into bed and give a performance that would knock her socks off but nervous as hell at the same time. Take some deep breaths you idiot, you're never nervous around women.

I shook my head, hoping to clear it from this confusing whirl of thoughts and walked to the bar and quickly paid for our meal.

Grace returned and I held out my hand, "Ready to go?"

She looked a little surprised as she said, "What about the bill?"

"That's sorted," I said, "Let's go."

"I thought I...that is, I..." then she shook her head and smiled at me and took my hand.

What was going on? What did she think? Then it struck me – she thought she'd be paying for dinner. What had Madeleine told her? First, that, 'so young' comment and now this. Did she think she was buying a man for the night – the whole night? No, that didn't make sense; she was too timorous for that. Well then she probably thought she was paying for dinner for herself and her 'escort'. Madeleine was going to get a stern interrogation later.

We strolled hand in hand to my car and I must admit the night was beautiful. We both seemed content to just walk.

A Bach cantata was playing softly in the background as we drove. During my time with Madeleine she'd weaned me off grunge and old heavy metal and helped me appreciate some other styles, although I couldn't tolerate most opera.

Grace seemed much more relaxed, probably more than I was. I had this intense desire to lay my hand on her thigh and stroke the smooth sheen of her stockings and those beautiful legs, or just hold her hand again. Focus on the road and the conversation you idiot! She won't be too impressed if you smash into something.

Grace enquired, "So tell me Jamie, how do you know Madeleine?" with an inflection that didn't seem quite right somehow. Obviously Maddie hadn't told her too much about us and Grace's tone was questing in some way.

I thought I'd tell a half-truth – not really a lie, just an omission. "I'm finishing off my Clin Psych degree Grace. Madeleine's my supervisor for my last clinical placement and I'd like to think, a friend too."

I glanced sideways. Grace's face seemed to run through a gamut of emotions, settling finally on what looked like a self-satisfied smile. Obviously Madeleine hadn't told her about this.

"Oooh. That's really interesting. You look too..." Her voice trailed off and she blushed.

"It's alright Grace, I know. You look too young Jamie."

Grace giggled. "Oh well Jamie, I suppose I should admit, I only open my mouth to change feet."

I laughed then too. "Another of your endearing traits, Grace. Right up there with the blushing." Again, that earned me a smack, this time on the hand but it was a mild reproof and ended in a lingering touch which gave me shivers.

We discussed what we'd be doing for the rest of the weekend as Grace left her hand on mine and too soon we were pulling up at her place. I opened the door for her and we walked the few steps to the entry of her ground floor apartment holding hands.

As we turned toward each other, I said, probably with a 'goofy' smile if it reflected the way I felt, "Thank you Grace. I had a great night."

"Me too. It's been ages since I've been out and even longer since I've danced." Then with a wry smile she added, "Even if they'll think I'm a scarlet woman at work."

I was feeling a little remorseful for that. "I'm sorry Grace, I..."

Grace put her fingers on my lips to silence me and added, "Just teasing. As you said, maybe they'll think a bit more of me now".

That touch, such a small but intimate gesture, put me in turmoil and I was lost for words for a minute. This wasn't me! What was going on? Finally I was able to continue, "Speaking of that, I wonder...Umm...would it be alright for me to ring you Monday night. You know, after work...just to see if everyth..." God, you idiot. You sound like a retard!

"Yes," said Grace, "That would be nice. Do you need my number."

"No, Madeleine gave me your work and mobile," I said, feeling relieved that she'd said 'Yes' for some reason. I saw Grace take a deep breath and I thought how bold she'd become in such a short time when she said, "Well, how about that kiss you mentioned?"

I felt a little tentative almost as though our roles had been reversed. Eventually our lips met and for me it was like magic. Much like when we were dancing, we just seemed to fit. Our lips touched then fled then retouched in some sweet, unconscious dance. I was whirled away to a place beyond time and thought. 

It was delightful and I didn't want it to end. When it did, I stroked the line of her jaw with the back of my hand. Her fingers encircled my wrist and pressed my palm against her cheek for some time, eyes closed, before releasing it and seeking my eyes again. Shit, she was so sweet but so hot – and so was I. I needed to step back and take a deep breath. I remembered Madeleine's injunction, fortunately or unfortunately, "Just dinner and dancing..." and was able to spit out a, "Goodnight Grace" before I ravished her right there.

I backed away from her, unable to break our shared gaze and her soft, "Goodnight Jamie," was terminated by giggles as my back hit my car. Yes, it was official – I was a retard.

Driving back to Madeleine's which we'd agreed I'd do – probably to make sure I didn't stay the night with Grace, I tried to understand the chaos that seemed to be going on in my body. And my head.

I knew that if I'd said one word instead of 'Goodnight,' Grace would have invited me in and from there it would have been an easy conquest and probably pretty enjoyable but for some reason I felt good that I hadn't...confusing!

***

SATURDAY

Madeleine and I slept in late. As I wandered into the lounge with St. Saens echoing in the background, she was dressed in an old robe, towelling her hair when the phone rang.

"So what did you think?...Really?...I'm glad. And he said he'd ring Monday night. That's great Grace."                                                                                                                         

Madeleine looked over at me and put her finger to her lips. "Listen, I'm drying my hair, I'll put you on speakerphone. Hold on a sec." She moved to turn down the music then sat at the table and touched the phone, "How's that?"

Grace related our "date" at some length then made reference to me paying and how she'd been "confused" by it. She said, "I wasn't sure what was going on...I thought I was supposed to pay because...you know...you'd arranged him for me..." her voice trailed off uncertainly.

"Grace! You thought he was an escort I'd set up? That's priceless. Whatever gave you that idea?"

Grace sounded both embarrassed and petulant. "Well you said he was experienced and a professional and he looked so young. I just thought..." 

Madeleine laughed loudly. "Good God, woman! I meant his job Grace – he's finishing his Clinical Psychology supervision with me."

"I know that now."

"He'd be good for you Grace and I know he likes you."

"How do you know?" Grace sounded enthralled. 

"Well, I've already spoken to him," Madeleine said - not a lie at least, although a lot of our conversation had taken place in bed which she didn't mention.

"What did he say? Come on!" Grace sounded like a little girl imploring her mother for a treat.

Maddie looked over at me and smiled. "Alright, calm down. I don't think I'm breaking a confidence." I could see her looking upwards, trying to recall exactly what I'd said earlier. She continued, "He said, and I quote, 'Jeez Madeleine, what a stunner! Why isn't she with someone? Beautiful, intelligent and...' Hmmmm... I think I should end it there – the rest would be breaking a confidence." She turned toward me and stifled a giggle.

"Oh, Madeleine, you bitch. Come on, you can't leave me hanging like this."

Madeleine paused for a while, no doubt to increase Grace's tension, before she continued, "Well let's just say he was also physically enamoured of you, especially your eyes and your smile but also your other bits and expressed it in fairly basic terms."

"He said that? That he liked me, that he'd like to...you know, be with me like that? That he found me...?"

Looking at me shrewdly, Maddie cut Grace's meanderings short, "Yes Grace, from the way he was talking I'm sure he'd love to fuck your brains out."

I stifled a laugh. Typical Madeleine, a wide-bladed digging implement was always 'a fucking shovel.'

"Oh God, what should I do Madeleine?" came mournfully from Grace.

"I don't know. Do you want him to fuck your brains out?"

There was silence on the line for a while, then, "Yes," Grace finally said in a small voice.

"Yes what?" demanded Madeleine.

"I can't say that." I could hear the shock in Grace's voice.

"Okay, no problem, can't help you then," Maddie responded smugly.

I could almost hear Grace's mental struggles in the quiet that followed. Suddenly she blurted out, "Yes! Yes, I want him to fuck my brains out. There I've said it."

Madeleine had a self-satisfied smile as she said, "Wasn't so hard was it?"

"It's not just that Madeleine. He seemed so young when I first saw him but I've never met anyone like him. He makes me feel like, like...I don't know, he just makes me feel. Does that make any sense?"

"More than you know girl. Anyway don't be too eager. I'm sure he'll ring Monday night like you said and ask you out again." I nodded my head enthusiastically.

"But what if he doesn't?" was Grace's plaintive response.

"Grace, trust me on this, he will. So anyway, pretty hunky isn't he? Did he give you a 'wide on' and did the 'honey pot' get a stir when you got home?"

You could hear the mock outrage in Grace's voice. "Madeleine! You're disgusting! That's it, I'm hanging up." This was followed by a girlish giggle then, "Yes...and yes...twice," before the phone went dead.

Madeleine laughed, then looked at me suddenly serious. "Listen to me and I mean this. If I could really love anyone I'd love Grace. We've helped each other through bad times and I thought it would be good for her to have a bit of excitement in her life. She's so constricted but she has so much to give. I don't want her hurt anymore, promise me!"

I temporised, trying not to answer and reveal my real fears. "Hold on Maddie, I thought you said I was just supposed to have dinner and a dance – make her feel a bit more confident. Now it sounds like you're trying to get us in the sack together. What's going on?" I demanded, "And why is she like this? What happened?"

The questions seemed to distract Madeleine, fortunately. "She's only ever had two men in her life and neither of them...they were both bastards and neither of them treated her well. If Grace wants to tell you that's fine but I'm not saying anything more." She paused and looked down at the floor seeming to go somewhere else. After a time she continued, "Grace only moved back here a couple of months ago. The Grace you see isn't the same Grace I knew when we were at uni together. I'd like the old Grace back and I thought you'd be good for her. You've got a way of making a woman feel like she's the centre of the universe, due to my tutelage of course." Her head lifted and her eyes locked with mine. "Grace needs that. Maybe she needs some physical love as well and I know you're good at that. But if you hurt her I swear, I'll cut your fucking balls off and stuff them down your throat. Promise me!"

I tried to placate her and at the same time give voice to my discomfort and explain it to myself. "Look Maddie, I'm not sure how to say this. She's shaken me up. I know, I know, hard to believe with the super psychopath but...I don't know. I'm nervous around her, yet I want to be around her. A couple of times I was tongue-tied, at a loss. Other times I said stuff without even thinking about it –true stuff. I'm never like that with a woman. It was so hard for me to walk away from her last night but it felt so right after that sweet kiss."

Madeleine's face softened. More quietly she responded, "Do you think I don't know? You've spoken of almost nothing but Grace since you got here. If I was a normal woman I'd be jealous. I think maybe my super-psycho's a little smitten, no? Well, like I said, don't hurt her."

My brain was still racing as I fought to understand my disquiet and put it into words. "Maddie, you're one of the few people I respect, maybe the only one. If I was different, if you were different, maybe...anyway Maddie, I'm not sure I can keep that promise. I don't know why but I think someone's going to get hurt here. Strangely, I hope it's me. But that's not possible is it? Shit! This isn't coming out right."

Madeleine moved toward me then sat on my lap and put her arms around me. She clasped my chin and stared intently into my eyes. "Just shut up. Stop over-thinking things. You're as bad as Grace. Just promise me you'll do your best not to hurt her, that's all I'm asking. I know there's a risk, maybe for both of you but I think it's worth it, don't you?"

She was right. What the hell! I'd never felt like this before but something about it felt right and good. I nodded and said, "I promise Maddie." The kiss she gave me was almost tender and I held her and gently rocked her as she put her head on my shoulder. Softly I said, "Thank you Maddie. You're a pretty special woman."

"Yeah, well it's taken you long enough to tell me that and actually mean it," she said archly.

"I've got so many things to thank you for...Ow!" She'd punched me on the shoulder.

"Shut up!" she hissed. "You're not doing your rep as a psychopath any good and I hate wimps. Come on, let's fuck!" She paused and then with a mocking smile said, "I'll even let you call me Grace." 

I laughed as I lifted out of the chair and carried her to the bedroom. "Oooooo. Low blow woman! You're going to pay for that one." We were both back to our normal selves...weren't we?

***

MONDAY

"And...I don't know if I can say this but the little smile I put on, like you suggested, had its effect," said Grace.

"What happened?" I asked, cradling the phone with my shoulder as I lay back on my lounge.

"Jennifer showed up at my door with Susan and announced it was break time. Then Susan made me coffee – made ME coffee - I thought the world had gone mad. They pumped me about you but I deflected most of it."

"Wise", I said, "adds to the mystery and allure."

"I thought so. Then...I don't know if I can say it."

"Come on Grace, don't tease."

"Okay. Well," I could hear Grace take in a deep breath before she continued in a rush, "Jennifer said, 'Well Grace, you're a dark horse aren't you. I didn't know you had it in you.' And Susan added, she added...'From the look of that smile I think she's had it in her lots of times.' Oh God, I can't believe I got that out."

I laughed heartily. "That's priceless Grace. I hate to say I told you so but..."

"But that's not the best bit though." She seemed eager to go on.

"Tell me."

"Well... I still can't believe it...Dianne came in and asked me to do something – she ASKED me! Can you imagine that? She was hesitant, almost apologetic and I thought, 'Yes that's it. The world has gone mad.' Can you imagine Jamie?"

I couldn't help but chuckle a little. "I'm glad for you Grace. A small acknowledgement of what you truly deserve. The way you deserve to be treated."

"You really believe that don't you Jamie," she said quietly.

"Yes Grace." Oh God. I was doing it again, telling the truth without even thinking. Why was I like this with her? Why was I so nervous? This was ridiculous. I give great phone. To fill the void I started talking. "So...Grace...I was wondering if...that is..."

"Yes."

"I mean, I'm not trying to be pushy, just if you're free..."

"Yes!"

"I thought maybe..."

"God Jamie! Can't you take 'Yes' for an answer? I'd love to go out with you again."

"Oh. Okay. Great. I'm free Wednesday and Thursday this week if that's any good...unless you'd like to wait...you know..."

Thankfully Grace saved me from any more inanities, "Wednesday would be fine for me. I'm off then."

"What would you like to do Grace?"

"No, no fair. I picked the restaurant. Your turn."

"Well Grace, I've been thinking about what you said and I wondered...if you'd maybe give me a personally guided tour of the Museum of Modern Art? Educate me."




Saving Grace



"Really? You mean it?" Grace sounded like an excited little girl. It made me smile. "I'd love to. There are some really fine examples of modernist and post-modernist works." 

We arranged to meet mid-morning at the museum. I hung up feeling elated.

***

TUESDAY

I seemed to be thinking about Grace constantly and wishing it was Wednesday. I felt like a little kid the night before Christmas – it seemed to take forever.

***

WEDNESDAY

Grace led me through the gallery. We went from the impressionists to the minimalists with detours through the surrealists and pop art in their historical order. Grace expounded on each artist and their contribution, explaining the works. She was brilliant; voluble, entertaining and animated, describing and peppering each period and artist with revealing anecdotes. She was a different person when she was talking about something that obviously ignited her passion.

I couldn't help asking, "Have you ever thought of doing this with groups Grace? You're so good at it. Or lecturing?"

She looked a little "hunted" again as she said, "No. No lecturing."

"You'd be great at it I think," I said with enthusiasm.

"No, I couldn't talk in front of people. That's not me."

I couldn't help pointing out, "You have with me Grace."

"That's different!"

"Why?"

"Because it's just you."

"Thanks Grace," I said putting on a pout.

She responded with vehemence. "No! That's not what I meant. I mean, I feel comfortable with you and I...I like you. You make me feel that I can be myself...safe and..." 

"It's OK Grace."

Grace looked quite intense as she said, "No, no it's not Jamie. I had reservations, strong reservations about meeting you. Anyone. It was only because of Madeleine hounding me that I went out with you. "

Grace's eyes became unfocussed and she looked pensive, almost sad as she continued, "I haven't had any sort of relationship for a long time and I was alright with it. Well, I thought I was but...things have changed. I'm sorry Jamie, you probably think I'm strange. The weird old librarian. I'm sorry, I'm not usually like this...I know there can't be anything...this can't go anywhere...I mean our ages..."

I took both her hands in mine, led her to a reproduction baroque settee, sat us down and tried to make a start. It was hard for me to say what I felt. It was hard for me to know what I felt.

"Grace. I need to say this and it's not easy."

I saw Grace's face tighten as she closed her eyes and bit the inside of her lip. Did she think I was going to 'break up' with her; limit or define our relationship? 

"Grace, it might not show but I'm scared. Things between us seemed to have happened so fast but I don't want that to stop...it scares me but exhilarates me at the same time." I shook my head and stated a simple truth, "You're wonderful." Grace opened her eyes and a tentative smile started to form. "I know this might sound extreme and I don't want to scare you off, okay, but I haven't felt like this about anyone, ever. This is all new for me. Forgive me Grace, I'm not usually so...I don't know." And I didn't.

Grace's smile broadened and her face took on a certain 'softness,' a vulnerability, before she said, "I don't want it to stop either. It is scary but I'm willing to...take the risk...see what happens, if you are."

I just nodded then we briefly kissed. "Perhaps we should go somewhere, eat – I feel a little woozy. Don't know why," I said.

"Yes, I feel a bit the same. We've probably both got low blood sugar." We shared an amused look.

"I thought we could go down by the river. I packed a picnic basket with some stuff I cooked..."

She laughed. "You've cooked for me! Oh Jamie, that's lovely."

"And it's not even breakfast." 

The day was beautiful. Things looked brighter, crisper, more real somehow.

We walked hand in hand to the car. I didn't feel the need to say anything. I would have been happy to just keep walking forever. We found a quiet spot near the river and I put down the blanket. Grace was all 'Oooo's' and 'Ahhh's' as I opened the cooler bag and brought out the Vietnamese cold rolls, bun cha and braised bitter melon stuffed with pork I'd made and opened the sparkling burgundy. 

We fed each other titbits, kissing briefly between bites. 

"Jamie, can I ask you something?" she seemed tentative.

"Of course, Grace. Anything – truly."

"Doesn't my age put you off? I must be ten, fifteen years older than you."

"No. You're nothing like I thought you'd be. I couldn't believe it when I first saw you at the restaurant. You looked so young...and so beautiful...my pretty girl."

She laid her head against my shoulder and took my hands. "I love it when you call me your pretty girl. I feel like I am. The other night when you said it for the first time in front of Dianne and the others...I...I don't know. Something inside me seemed to...turn over and wake up. I think that's when things started to change for me."

We lay back and I cradled Grace's head on my shoulder. We were quiet for what seemed a long time but I could feel that Grace wanted to say something more.

"It's OK Grace. Say whatever you need to. If you're having second thoughts we can talk..."

She rolled over on top of me and looked deeply into my eyes. She smiled. For some reason I felt relieved. Then she laughed. "No. Nothing like that. I have to catch the train to Armidale at six tonight and see my supervisor tomorrow. About my PhD research. I thought perhaps we could meet for dinner tomorrow evening after I get back."

I started to respond but she continued, "Then I want you to come back to my place. I think it's time. Maybe I'll get breakfast?"

I couldn't help but laugh.

***

THURSDAY

I spent the day trying, (and failing), to concentrate on writing up casenotes and doing a bit of research. I'd start off okay then find that I'd been thinking about Grace and tonight and fifteen or twenty minutes had passed. I'd get annoyed at myself for being this 'stuck' about a woman and tell myself to concentrate but it was like my brain didn't seem to be my own. Pretty soon thoughts of Grace would fill my head and I'd feel both excited and nervous.

It was a relief when five-thirty came around and I could leave the University library and head toward the Dinner Club, 'our restaurant'. We'd agreed to meet at six and I'd left my car in the uni carpark so we could walk back together after our meal and no doubt some dancing.

It was a beautiful afternoon and I was imagining how sweet it would be to finally be with Grace completely.

I was brought out of my reverie by someone yelling, "Hey, Jamie. You stuck up or something?"

I looked behind me to where a heavily pregnant young woman was carefully negotiating the stairs from the University Hospital.

"I called out to you three times," she said, "You going deaf or what?"

"Sorry, I was miles away," I responded, gave her cheek a kiss and said, "Anyway, you're looking sexy as always." 

"Ha! Ha! You're a riot. I feel like a whale about to give birth to a watermelon." I took her arm and we walked a few paces to a cast iron bench under a plane tree where she sat with an "Ooofff..."

"So blossom, when's he or she due?" I asked, gently patting her belly.

"He, was due about two months ago from the feel of it. Actually in about a week. It looks like Dave will get back this Sunday."

"That's great news. We'll have to get together soon," I said.

A car beeped, did a u-turn and pulled up near us. "Aaaah! Great, that's Chloe. She's giving me a lift home."

As I went to kiss her goodbye I felt a hard rap on my shoulder and as I turned, what felt like a hammer-blow to my cheek brought tears to my eyes and sent me off balance and down to the pavement. By the time I'd got myself up off of the ground I could see Grace, short black dress flying and hair streaming behind her as she ran toward the hospital taxi rank.

I yelled but she didn't turn, just flung open the door of the front cab and seconds later she was gone.

After briefly and no doubt inadequately apologising to a non-plussed Carmen, I ran to my car and drove to Grace's. I knocked repeatedly on the door and windows with no response. I stood there at a loss for a while. All I could do was wait in my car and hope she'd show up at some stage. Then it struck me – Madeleine's. She'd go there.

I rang, praying that Madeleine would answer. After at least a dozen rings while I held my breath it was picked up. I started to say Madeleine's name and was cut off by yelling that almost blew out my eardrum. 

"You prick! You selfish prick! Do you know what you've done to her? Her first boyfriend was an abusive, philandering arsehole. Her husband almost destroyed her. Not wanting children he said, then leaving her for one of his students - his pregnant student! So you've got a pregnant girlfriend you..."

I interjected quickly, "Oh shit... Madeleine you've got to listen to me. Just let me say one word please, Then I'll shut up."

She was almost screaming. "There's nothing you could ever say that..."

"Carmen!" I yelled down the phone, "Carmen!"

Madeleine started to yell again then went quiet. I could almost hear her brain working.

After what seemed an eternity, "Oh, shit...the Carmen I met at your parent's place – your cousin Carmen? Blonde and tall and eyebrow-pierced Carmen?"

"Yes! Exactly! You remember Dave? He was going on deployment in Afghanistan. She's hoping he'll get back before the birth. She was in town for a scan. She's almost due..."

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" There was a long pause. "OK, listen. I'll talk to her. It may take a while. She's not in any state to listen at the moment. Go home. I'll text you when I take Grace back to her apartment and I'll meet you there.

***

Waiting for Madeleine's text was exquisite torture. Finally around 9pm it came.

I drove up, parked behind Madeleine's car on which she was leaning and joined her.

"I've explained it to her in my own inimitable way. She's calmed down now. Feeling desolate and guilty for doubting you and for hitting you. But she'll be okay... just go to her."

I was silent for a while thinking about how things were so simple before I met Madeleine. And Grace.

Madeleine interjected into the silence, "You're angry."

I exploded. "I don't know what I feel! Since you set me up with Grace it's like I'm going crazy sometimes. And you! You're like some inscrutable Greek goddess dispensing her idea of justice – all I see are punishments and rewards Madeleine, not behaviour and consequences. Can you blame me Maddie? Me, some tool for your purposes. A willing one before, I admit. But this...with Grace. Am I not supposed to feel a bit resentful, a bit used?"

Madeleine didn't answer for some time, seeming to mull my statements over. "That's what you think? Punishments and rewards. Really Jamie? Cast your mind back to the 'punishments and rewards'. Maybe you don't know everything. Maybe I shouldn't have kept some things from you."

She continued after a long pause. "Giving you instructions on what I wanted done with my so-called 'friends'. Sharon. Cyclically emotionally abused, feeling worthless and starting to covertly self-harm. Now... now feeling like she's loveable. Worthy of love, and in a relationship with someone who actually cares about her. Because all she really needed was for someone to treat her as desirable and worthwhile – which you did. And remember Lindy? Useless and hopeless, her own words to me. Confident enough to go back to study so she can start her own business now." 

There was silence for a while before she continued almost sadly. "Do you want me to go on? My real friends; Grace. Grace...and you."

She regarded me coolly. "Yes, feeling things can hurt. Like most guys though, you're not getting upset, you're getting angry. And you're lashing out at whoever's available – displacement, just like a normal person."

I couldn't respond. I was stunned. I hadn't even considered this. Madeleine whom I'd thought a sociopath just like me – intent only on doing good, on healing people? Were all my preconceptions, my beliefs awry?

Before I could clarify my thoughts she continued. "You can think I'm a manipulative bitch and even that I have delusions of omnipotence if you like." She kissed me gently on the cheek then left me in turmoil with her last questions, posed quietly before she walked away. "Just ask yourself this though Jamie. How damaged were you? And are you the same person you were before you met Grace, or are you different now?"

My brain was whirling but I had to put my thoughts aside. I had to see Grace. Now! 

***

Grace threw open the door seemingly before my descending knuckIes touched it. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her makeup smeared where tears had coursed through it – she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Before she could speak I gathered her face in my hands. "Oh Grace. My Grace. I thought I'd lost you." I kissed her eyelids, then her brow, then her perfect lips.

Our kisses gradually became more intense, more carnal. Grace amazed me. God, she had a sexy tongue and she really knew how to kiss. It went on and on. I backed her up against the wall where she had a little wooden footstool. We were really kissing deeply, both stroking each other all over. I slowly undid her blouse and she surprised me again when she started stroking my hardness through my pants. I pulled her blouse off her shoulders and put her arms behind her back. I'm sure she thought I was going to undo the buttons at her cuffs, if she was thinking anything, and take it right off. I pulled it down her arms then took the ends and tied them around her wrists. She pulled her head back a bit, seemed to come back from wherever she was and said "What are you doing?"

I must admit I may have smiled a bit leeringly but my voice would have been gentle when I said, "Whatever I want."

Her eyes went wide and she gave out a small "Ohhh..." but she didn't tell me to stop.

I went to my knees in front of her undid the button then the zip on her little black skirt and watched it slide down and pool at her feet. I pulled the g-string down her legs. She had pretty incredible legs, (especially in sheer black stockings and two inch heels), then pulled it off of her left leg and started twisting it around to make into a sort of short rope.

I slid it back up her right leg until it was behind her knee and said, "Lift honey. Spread those beautiful legs for me." She moaned as I looped the twisted "g" over the doorknob and placed her right foot on that little footstool. I stood back and looked at her. So good; arms tied behind her, thrusting her chest forward, right leg at an angle, the wonderful swoop of her belly to her sex, which looked swollen and red. Her breasts hung so beautifully with this gorgeous curve at the bottom - so ripe. Her nipples were large, hard and erect. I grabbed her chin and her eyes opened and she stared into mine.

"I am going to make you feel so good Grace, you'll never want me to stop and you'll never want me to let you go." I kissed her gently and ran the tip of my tongue around the corner of her mouth and began moving my eyelashes up and down, touching her cheeks like butterfly wings. 

She moaned and tried to press her forward, murmuring "Please, please...." I slid down her body blowing air gently between my pursed lips at one nipple then the other. 

She moaned some more and I said, "You beautiful thing. I bet you could come without me even touching you." I went lower and puffed air against her swollen, almost purple labia. She pushed herself forward toward my mouth her moans rising in intensity. I saw her engorged clit and started blowing rhythmically on it. 

Her moans rose again, louder and faster and I must admit she shocked me when she started pleading, "Oh please, please, chew my clit. Let me cum!"

I just kept blowing. I thought of stopping completely and wondered how much she'd beg to be allowed her release but I took pity on her and kept up the blowing. She began shaking her head from side to side and droplets of sweat were being flung from her hair. 

As I kept it up her cries got louder and louder. I paused briefly and looked at her – so beautiful, before I said, "Cum for me Grace. Cum for me, my pretty girl," and resumed her torture. After a few more minutes of this she suddenly went silent and started shaking, her whole body twitching like someone having a seizure. Her head jerked back hitting gently against the wall again and again as she quivered, not making any other sound. 

Finally her head drooped forward and she started to slump. I caught her with difficulty, unlooped the g-string from the doorknob and carried her to her bed where I lay down next to her and gently stroked and kissed her face and neck.

She was crying so quietly, like a little child and I felt something I hadn't felt before and had trouble putting a name to. Then I realised. I felt so much tenderness toward her it actually hurt. It was a sweet kind of pain though with no locus. I undid the blouse holding her wrists together then the buttons on the cuffs and took it off. I gathered her in my arms and rocked her as softly as I could; calling her "my beautiful" and "my gorgeous thing" and telling her it was alright. 

Eventually her tears stopped and she opened her eyes and looked at me. I swear I saw something in them I'd never seen before in my life, this wondering look that was part pleasure but mostly surprise and something else - love?

Hesitantly she started to speak, "I never...I've never...I didn't know..." then shook her head and went quiet again. I kept on gently stroking her face and after a minute she tried again. "Oh God, Jamie..... I've never felt anything like that before.... I've had plenty of orgasms but never anything like that. I feel like the most desirable woman in the world. How did you know? How could you know to do that?"

Her fingers touched my cheek gently, slid behind my neck and pulled me to her, giving me a brief, perfect kiss then she softly breathed, "Make love to me Jamie."

It was like there was a sudden incandescent explosion in my head. My Eureka! moment. Those five simple words. Not screw me, shag me, fuck me or a dozen other euphemisms but, "Make love to me Jamie." 

My breath hitched in my throat. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think. There was pounding in my chest and my head. This incredible creature wanted me to make love to her and now I knew I could. I wanted to so much. All I could do was nod.

Eventually I stood and undressed, constantly looking at my beautiful Grace. Finally naked, I saw her regard me openly, running her eyes up and down my body before she smiled and stretched out her open arms toward me.

As I joined her, looking down at her, her words echoed my only thought as she said, "I want you so much." I gently pushed into her warm, tight wetness. "Oh! Oh! Oh yes," she moaned as she arched her back and pushed herself further onto me. 

I think I moaned, I don't know. I was discontinuous with the world. There was only Grace and our need. I don't know how long we moved with each other, Grace's soft sounds counterpointed by mine. Shivers and jerks of electric bliss seemed to be going through both our bodies and I'm sure my smile matched Grace's own. Then slowly her expression changed to one that was almost fierce. She grabbed my hair and with surprising strength rolled us over until she was sitting astride me.

She moved up and down on me, occasionally grinding or flicking her hips. I lay back. The pleasure I felt was indescribable. I was spellbound watching this wild woman, an elemental in female guise, make love to me. Tears started to flow freely down the sides of my face, dampening the pillow and all I could do was hoarsely whisper her name, again and again. I was lost, floating, outside time and space.




Saving Grace



Her voice brought me back as she leaned down toward me still moving exquisitely, gazed deep into my eyes and between gasps said, "Cum for me Jamie. Cum for your pretty girl." I groaned as she threw her head back and jerked again and again. I was out of control. I felt like I was emptying my soul into her. Eventually she collapsed onto me and my arms went about her. The aftershocks of our love-making gradually calmed. She kissed me gently. Then, as she moved her head back, she took my bottom lip between her teeth and nipped quickly drawing blood. She had a triumphal look as she said, "You're mine now."

All I could do was nod wearily.

Her smile was like a sunrise. "Good boy. I'll treat you right." She stood, a little shakily and extended her hand. "Come with me. I'm going to clean us up with a quick shower and then we're going to sleep. We've had a long, fraught day."

I was still breathing like I'd run a marathon as I replied, "Jeez Grace... I don't think I can move."

She put on a stern face and said unsmilingly, "Well if you don't, I'll just have to keep fucking your brains out until you do as you're told." 

I couldn't help but laugh at my demure, almost straight-laced Grace, now so bold and swearing like a trooper. "Okay, Okay, I'm moving. God! I've unleashed a monster."

Our brief shower was punctuated by the gentle play of caresses and tickles and afterwards, as promised, we went naked to her bed. I lay my head against the hollow of her neck and didn't dare say a word. I was feeling so many things I'd never felt before. I realised that what I most felt was an incredible affection for, and gratitude to this special woman. I gently placed my hand on her right hip and moved my legs slowly so the whole length of her was against me.

She took my right hand, placed it on her left breast, snuggled in a little more against me, and with a soft, "Mmmmmmm.........." drifted straight off to sleep.

I lay there and took a deep breath through my nose, smelling her hair - the freshness and sweetness of her, feeling the warmth of her body against me. I don't know if there's a heaven but I thought this had to be damn close. I was incredibly wasted, physically and mentally, and yes, emotionally. I didn't want to sleep though - I wanted to spend the rest of my life just like this; pressed against this incredible female, melded with her and holding her like this forever. At some point I slept.

***

FRIDAY

I woke sprawled on my back, a woman wrapped around me with her head on my chest. God, she was gorgeous! I moved some of her hair away from her face and pushed it behind her left ear. She woke and looked at me blearily. "Good morning beautiful," I said, smiling at her.

She leaned forward and gave me a sweet kiss. "You need to see an optometrist. I'm sure I look a fright."

I had a little laugh, "Your hair is all over the place and you look like a little girl who's gotten into her mother's makeup. You are absolutely adorable Grace."

She smiled knowingly. "So you're still mine then I take it?"

I trapped her hands between mine and we gazed into each other's eyes. I needed her to know what she'd done to me. Most of all I needed to know what was going to come next. 

Yes, dammit! After last night, I, the self-contained and self-assured sociopath needed to hear her say she loved me and wanted to be with me. I tried to make a start. "Grace, I need you to know something..."

She placed her fingers gently on my lips - I loved it when she did that. "No. I need to say something first. Everything you need me to know is in your eyes. You love me and it's knocked you. I had a heart to heart with Madeleine when I thought...when I thought I couldn't be with you. You didn't think you could love at all, and never would. But you do Jamie." She gently stroked my cheek as she continued, "You've done so much for me in such a short time. I'm a different person because of you, better, braver, stronger."

"I know now that I deserve to be loved and treasured, because of you. And you; I know that you can love, deeply and truly – I felt it last night and I see it in your eyes now. Love me Jamie...I love you." And suddenly everything was alright.

***

So that's my story – a week in my life. From toying with women to one woman's toy, from atheist to acolyte, sociopath to slave. Then again, being a slave to love isn't so bad with the right mistress.

Grace is more beautiful than ever and although she'd deny it, Madeleine's excited at becoming a godmother. She punched me again, hard, when I said she'd soon be known as 'Aunty Maddie.'

Gotta go; my pretty girl's calling me to prayers. I worship at her shrine now. If I'm blessed, I'll spend the rest of my life gazing at that face and roaming in her mind and with her body – my saving Grace.