19 comments/ 23821 views/ 9 favorites Dangerous Ch. 02 By: bigmikey357 My name is Angel Hightower and I was the head personnel evaluator for a well-known pharmaceutical company. Although for legal reasons I cannot reveal the name of the company, I no longer wish to hide my own identity. The need for secrecy has passed. Basically I was done in by my own actions. As much as I'd like to I have no one else to blame for the events that follow in this account. I became a hypocrite, for I had always criticized other women for their behavior when it came to cheating in their relationships, yet I could not stop myself from doing the same damn thing. I let it come between me and my husband. I let it ruin my life. Six weeks. Six stinking weeks. That's how long it took for me to break my vow and fall back into the clutches of adultery. I thought I was strong enough to fight the temptation his eyes presented to me. I thought that my willpower was strong enough to withstand that perfect smile and sexy smirk. I was so wrong. My dreams betrayed me nightly as I imagined his powerful thrusts invading my sex, his chiseled, sweat-soaked body pressed against mine in a carnal embrace, his mesmerizing golden eyes claiming my very soul. I tried to be a dutiful wife, rededicate myself to my marriage, but the itch for my secret lover kept me feeling frustrated and snappish. He had broken me; from the moment I first gave in to my curiosity I was lost. Doomed to fail, I never had a chance. ____________ My week of debauchery had done major damage to my reputation around the office. My work did not suffer so my bosses didn't care; I was still bringing in talented staff and brilliant scientists with personalities that meshed well. Despite that I would still from time to time hear the whispers. Some of the people involved were just the jealous bitches trying to knock me off my pedestal for my previous holier-than-thou attitude toward office dalliances. Others involved the guys who thought that it was their turn to get some now that the Ice Queen had thawed. The rumors were irritating but I understood, took it as a penance for my wanton behavior. What brought me up short were the people questioning my competence. That I got to my present position not by keeping my nose to the grindstone but rather greasing up the poles of my superiors. When I started hearing that I had to bite my tongue to keep from losing all sense of reason. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out the source of that particular set of rumors. Evaline Matthews, little Miss Second-Place. I admit that she was good at her job, but her lack of people skills had always held her back. She was frequently placed on assignments where she could work alone. Though fairly attractive, her scalding wit and belittling attitude toward any project that she herself did not generate made people loathe working with her. When I was promoted department head instead of her she just knew that I had to be screwing the senior staff. In her eyes no one was more deserving of promotion and advancement. Most people paid her no attention, seeing the jealousy for what it was. My recent fall from grace had started to shift people's opinions to her way of thinking though. After all, I was no longer untouchable, pure, a bastion of virtue or whatever. It wouldn't be beneath me. I'm no stranger to office gossip, I knew in my heart I should have let it die down instead of adding fuel to the furnace. I should have let my work, my track record speak for itself. The people I put into place were key to company success, instrumental in the latest breakthroughs in drug-tech. I knew my own worth; no amount of chatty office gossip should have made a difference in how I conducted myself or handled my business. But it did. It hurt so badly. Hell it all hurt, all the rumors, the whispers. Looking back, I guess I was grasping at straws, trying to find something or someone to fight against instead of smoke and shadows. My target was Evaline. The first step in my downfall was the torrid if short lived love affair with Desmond. The next step was the confrontation with Eva. About 2 weeks after he was transferred to the IT department I had Eva come to my office. By that time the rumor mill was cranking at an all-time high, grinding my reputation to dust. My reasoning was admittedly flawed but at the time I figured that a little personnel readjustment would serve to change the climate. I was sitting at my desk, trying and failing to focus on the spreadsheet I was preparing when my secretary informed me of her arrival. "Send her in, James," I said into the intercom, my calm voice a contrast with the anger boiling just underneath the surface. Eva walked through the door as if she deserved to be sitting where I was. Her Mediterranean features, the olive skin, lush and luxurious raven's wing hair and warm brown eyes were wasted by her haughty scowl. She was beautiful, imposing, and confident. She also radiated bitch with every glance. I waited patiently as she glided to the open seat in front of my desk, sat and looked at me expectantly while crossing her legs. "Is there something I can help you with Ms. Hightower?" she said with a thinly-veiled sneer. "I am finishing the report on the recruiting trip to Tulane and I'd really like to put on the finishing touches before the staff meeting tomorrow morning." "Oh that won't be necessary, Ms. Matthews," I replied, keeping my voice level and professional. "Wayne can touch that up. Look, there is no easy way to put this so I'm just going to come right out and say it. I have spoken to management recommending your transfer out of Personnel and into Accounting effective immediately and that request has been approved. I will need you to clear out your desk and report to Mr. Bossley on the..." "I know very well where accounting is," she interrupted with outrage. "On what grounds are you moving me? My work is excellent!" "Frankly, it's your attitude. Your co-workers feel that you are not a team player and your belittling commentary and outright rudeness are creating a hostile work environment. You have excellent work ethic and the company would hate to lose you. We just felt that a change of scenery would do us both a world of good." Her eyes narrowed and an ugly smile crossed her features. "'We felt' this and 'we felt' that huh? My 'attitude'? I know exactly what this is. You're trying to get rid of me, huh? Little Angel, fallen from grace, turned slut where everyone can see and can't take it when people talk huh? You already stole my promotion, now you wanna fuck up my career track because you can't take the heat? Tell me, who else did you have to fuck to get me out of the way? You know what? I don't give a shit. Know that I won't stand for it though. I'm going to file a grievance and get you axed, you bitch! You are going to pay dearly for... "Shut the fuck up!" I interrupted her, punctuating my speech by slamming my fist on my desk. Matching her fire with my own, I began to speak into the silence. "You are an ungrateful, sniveling, despicable cunt and I don't give a fuck how angry you are, you aren't about to speak to me that way. Do you know what I could do to you? With the amount of red marks in your personnel file I could have you pushing letters in the mailroom for the next 10 years. Hell, I could have kicked you to the curb so hard you bounced! File a fucking grievance. Go right ahead! My audit is in order. All of my I's are dotted; all my T's are crossed. 'My work is excellent'. Give me a break! News flash, bitch! Nobody wants to WORK WITH YOU! Even with all that, I tried to keep it professional, let you down easy, even set you up with a soft landing. YOU decided to make this shit personal, not me! I sincerely promise you do NOT want to play that game with me." By the time I finished my little diatribe her face was red, her body was shaking in anger and her hands were clawed, gripping the arms of my office chair. The haughty mask slipped and what I saw was pure undiluted anger. She was leaning forward like she wanted to slap me and was only holding herself back by force of will. "Do it, bitch," I said with quiet menace and a smile that never touched my eyes. "Do it. Give me a reason to smash your pretty little face in before I have security escort your sorry ass out the building. Please, PLEASE give me a reason to ensure that no one ever hires you again." We sat staring daggers at one another across my desk, a moment in time stretched for eternity. There was no give in me, only slightly less than that in her. Finally, Eva looked away. "You've made your feelings perfectly clear, Ms. Hightower," she said between gritted teeth. "I guess I'll be heading off to accounting. If there's nothing else...," she rose from her seat and walked stiff-backed out of my office. She paused at the door before walking away. In a sort of stage whisper she said, "This ain't over bitch. Not by a long shot." _______________ My little confrontation a.k.a shouting match with Eva had the opposite effect from what I intended; apparently we were loud enough to be heard throughout the department. As a result, the rumor mill exploded and it all got back to me. And although no one ever said anything to my face, people found a way to make me all too aware of what was being said about me. Add control freak to slut, adulterer, career opportunist, I mean any negative comment that could be made about a woman in the workplace fit me to a T in everyone's eyes. And even though I tried not to show just how much the scrutiny affected me outwardly, I was a cauldron of emotions inside. Of course I was angry and frustrated about the vile things being said about me, the sly looks and rooms going dead silent at my approach. I also felt guilty. Maybe I'd come down a little hard on Eva. Maybe having Desmond drop me as soon as his transfer papers were signed had me feeling depressed. Maybe my actions made me unworthy of a great husband. I just couldn't shake my malaise. In the month following my outburst I had not made love to Stephen at all; what time we did spend together was spent fighting over things that had never bothered us in 10 years of marriage. To make matters worse, I was still feeling like things were unfinished with Desmond. It's not as if we had spoken about ending our affair at all. My eyes were open and yet I still lusted over him, to my everlasting shame. It didn't help that he still worked in the building, only 7 floors down. We'd run into each other on occasion in the elevator on the way in or sometimes in the company cafeteria. He always had that knowing smile, one that turned my knees to jelly and had my mind racing. I never returned it, never gave him any indication that I wanted him to pin me to a wall, hike up my skirt and have his way with me. I wasn't making love to my husband but I still felt I had a promise to keep, to never let another have what was his. I hated the fact that when I fantasized about sex it was always Desmond who came to mind, not Stephen. I hated my body's reaction to him whenever he was in close proximity. I hated myself for ever straying down a path that I could not shake, I even began to hate my promise. Everything was beginning to pile up. Turmoil at home, sexual frustration at work, the rumors and lies, lumped together they were hammering at my confidence and self-esteem. I became more and more short-tempered as the days wore on. Eva was not the only one I had words with, just the only one I'd moved. The pressure, Jesus the pressure! It was only a matter of time before my excellent work began to suffer. I was dropping the ball and my subordinates were doing the same. My people were turning in reports late, giving sloppy presentations, recommending shoddy personnel for hire, and I wasn't mentally there to shore them up, give them confidence, or even give them that kick in the pants I'd always been known for. I was failing my department and the company as a whole and I knew it. I was to blame for failing in my responsibility and for the first time in my life that knowledge wasn't enough for me to fix it. Just one more thing for me to feel guilty about, another thing to add to the pile of shit my life had become. I needed an escape, a way out. I found my solace by drowning my sorrows in alcohol. _______________ Six weeks. Six stinking weeks. In six weeks I had gone from confident business woman with a fine career and a husband who adored her to a wretch about to lose everything she'd worked so hard for. The merry-go-round of misery was moving at a breakneck pace and I had no idea how I'd ever get off. I wasn't in denial; I knew full well what I was doing to myself. I was on a path to my own destruction, building my own personal hell brick by brick. I was a coward, too afraid of what I'd already lost, too afraid to confront the problems facing me head on because I didn't want to lose anything else. Drinking served two purposes for me, punishing me for my failures and helping me to avoid my problems. The fact that I knew it was such a bad decision, one I'd seen play out personally with my father, actually seemed to make my punishment worse and thus satisfying my need to assuage my guilt. Martyrdom by alcoholism, crazy right? I still had enough presence of mind not to drink at work or come in the next morning blasted and hung over. I never drank with the after work set, preferring to drown my sorrows alone. I saw even less of Stephen, staying out until two or three in the morning slamming fruity martinis at the bar before coming home and crashing in a drunken stupor. It was only a matter of time until I broke one of my own rules, before my so-called presence of mind slipped, I knew it even then. To numb the pain, I felt I'd hold out for as long as possible. My day of reckoning was on me before I knew it. My immediate supervisor had come down hard on me that morning and I took it especially hard. One of the pillars in my life was being hammered down and I was feeling pathetic and low. I sat at the bar feeling more dejected than I could ever remember feeling when Desmond sauntered into my fortress of solitude wearing a smirk that could kill angels. Confident, strong, and in control, he had me bespelled from the moment we locked eyes from across the room. He crossed the intervening space in slow motion, stoking my desire ever higher with each step. If I wasn't so surprised I would have thought to ask how he knew where I'd be, but at the time questions seemed unimportant. I knew two things with certainty; that I wanted him with a passion that I could not hope to suppress no matter how hard I tried and that if I didn't resist him now my broken marriage would be effectively over. Those two thoughts did battle in my brain, fighting to the death for supremacy until he was right in front of me, kissing my hand and holding it possessively. "I have reserved a booth," he spoke in that rich baritone that haunted my dreams. "Won't you come have dinner with me?" No no no no no no NO! my mind screamed. My body, that traitorous bitch, had other ideas. I followed where he led me, protest throttled before ever reaching my lips. It wasn't far, just off the barroom, low-lit and as secluded as the space would allow. Not that I cared about my surroundings or being discreet or anything else at that point. I was too focused on the war going on in my mind. It was actually romantic. He was the perfect gentleman; never speaking of our past relationship, always courteous and attentive, never cross or lewd. Nothing in his manner would suggest that he expected to score that night. To an outsider it would look as though two colleagues were having a bite to eat and maybe a cocktail after work. It made me feel nice, special. He had managed to ease my pain like alcohol had never done; I was grateful, but I knew from that predator look in his eyes that the evening was far from over. He had plans, ones that involved me heavily, and those thrice-be-damned eyes promised that I'd love every minute. Meals finished, we sat at the table conversing on inconsequential over glasses of red wine. I wasn't quite sober, but I was not nearly as drunk as I would have been had he not shown up. Over the course of the meal we'd been slowly moving closer and closer to one another until we were nearly shoulder to shoulder. The space between us was paper thin. Then he made his move, leaning over and placing the lightest of kisses on the side of my neck. He said in a breathy whisper, "I truly enjoyed our date Angel. I must confess that I loathe for this evening to end. Won't you come with me tonight? I have a room at the Four Seasons where we could...converse...away from prying eyes." The war was over. My marriage was over. My passion and desire for him had won out, and yet I still found some will to resist the inevitable. "I-I don't think that's a good idea Desmond. After all, I am a married woman. I mean I know we had a fling and all, but it was a mistake. We simply cannot do this again." "I'm sorry," he apologized in words while his golden eyes held none. "Forgive me if I was too forward. It's just that I am having a hard time forgetting our 'mistake', the ways in which we pleasured each other." I of course felt the same, had dreamed of little else over the past 6 weeks. He continued. "The passion! The feel of your pure, smooth olive skin as my fingers roamed every inch of your perfect frame. Just thinking of the last time we were together leaves a lasting imprint on my mind. I hunger for you Angel. It may be wrong but I want you in the worst way. Please reconsider." "I'm sorry Des but I cannot. I just..." my voice trailed off as I felt his powerful hand rest on my thigh just above the knee. My cheeks flushed but I rallied back. "I can't." I made no move to remove his hand even as his caresses became more intimate. "I can't afford to keep putting my marriage in jeopardy like this," I continued. "There is n-n-no future with us. I *sigh* understand. I enjoyed our time together greatly. You have, ahhh, no idea how much. But that time has passed, oh my god, I, Shit, can't keep do-do-doing this to my husband!" By the end of my admittedly broken speech I was breathing as though I'd ran a lap around the world. His fingers had found my clit and were applying steady pressure, only a thin piece of satin separating his questing digits from my sex. I was saying the words but my body made a mockery of them. Finally I grabbed his wrist under the table, but instead of pushing it away I held on as I ground my teeth, trying to keep quiet through the orgasm he had coaxed from me. "Are you sure about that?" he smirked. "From the feel of things it seems as though your needs aren't being met at home. You are a very talented, passionate and sensual woman Angel. I have experienced it for myself. Is it so wrong for me to want to pleasure you?" "Damn you, " I whispered through the aftershocks. My stare was intense as I started to manipulate his turgid member through his slacks. "You know it's wrong for me to want you. I want you to fuck me until my teeth rattle, fuck me like you did in the break room when I wrapped my legs around you, when I used my heels to help you reach the deepest part of my pussy." My stroking was getting faster and rougher, punctuating my speech as I relayed my desire. "I want you to take me from behind like you did on my office that first night. I want it so damn bad just the thought of it leaves me quivering with lust. What I don't want is to be a slut who cheats on her husband just because some asshole with mesmerizing eyes and a great smile gives her the eye. Please Desmond, you gotta stop this. Leave me be!" So lost in the moment, I hadn't noticed that I had a death grip on his cock until he winced and grabbed my wrist under the table. Suddenly aware of my surroundings, I tried to snatch my hand away, thankful that the low light hid the flush in my cheeks yet oddly disappointed that I had not made him cum. He never let my hand get completely away, instead holding it while staring deeply into my eyes. "Angel, Angel Angel," he spoke in a voice as soft as a caress and as deadly as an unsheathed dagger. "Don't fight this. You already know what you want, what your body wants. You can sit here and fight with your desire all night but we both know that it's going to happen. We're going to drive to my hotel and I'm going to give you everything you've been missing." His hands returned to caressing my body, fingers dancing along my ribcage as he went for the kill. "You need this. You think I haven't heard about your star fading in the office, about how far you've fallen? It's obvious that you need something only I can give you, at least to me it is." He nibbled my earlobe and kissed along my jawline as he spoke. "Getting plastered ain't gonna do it. Your husband can't do it or he'd have done it already. I came here tonight to see if you and I could somehow recapture that hectic week we shared together, to see if you still wanted me. Judging from your reaction, you never wanted me to stop. Well you don't have to. Come with me Angel." Dangerous Ch. 02 Between his words and his touch, the pressure was unbearable. Whatever resolve I may have possessed melted like candle wax in a blast furnace. And so I let go. "Oh hell," I whispered as I grabbed his tie and pulled him in for a scorching kiss. It felt amazing. It felt right. All my concerns, from marriage to workplace, fell away as if they never existed. I surrendered to the moment. It was so much better than thinking about what the consequences of this night would be. I'd been thinking about consequences for six fucking weeks and it had made me miserable, robbed me of my competence and made a dog's breakfast of my life. Fuck it, time to go all in. I turned the tables on him. This time I was the aggressor, the hunter, the one whose passion could not be denied. We kissed in that booth violently, impatient in our hunger for one another. I was ready to go and so was he. He placed a $100 on the table and reluctantly broke our kiss to lead me to his car. I barely gave him a chance to start the car before I was on him, freeing his dick from his pants and lewdly sucking him off. I was moaning as I stabbed the back of my throat, taking him deeper and deeper into my mouth until I was gagging. His knuckles turned white from grabbing the steering wheel and I'm sure we'd almost crashed at least once but I did not care at all. I needed him to spill his seed into my eager mouth and I would not stop until I had drained him of it all. I was on my knees in the passenger seat with one hand between my legs and the other playing with his balls, using every trick I'd ever heard about to bring him off, each moan and twitch from him spurring my efforts. He arrived at climax just as we were pulling into the parking lot and I swallowed every drop. I was bursting at the seams from eagerness to feel his manhood inside my womb, so eager I couldn't wait to get to his room. I had to have him right then and there. "Let your seat all the way back," I commanded him while I was sliding my panties to the floorboard. Climbing over the armrest, I straddled him and rolled my hips while I kissed him with his seed still on my breath. He grabbed my hips, trying to control the pace but I was having none of it. I grabbed his wrists and held his hands to my breasts while I rode him to ultimate pleasure, not caring if the world heard me cry out in orgasmic bliss. I felt him tense and then flood my body with cum; the feel of liquid fire filling me sent me over the edge and I shouted his name over and over as I came with him. We eventually made it up to his room, and for the rest of the night he was my amusement park, mine to ride until exhaustion. It was all about me, my pleasure, my enjoyment, my release, and he was my tool. I came so many times I lost count. He had the stamina of an 18 year old, always answering the bell when I wanted it. That night I was insatiable. All the frustration of the past few weeks spilled out and afterward I had never been more satisfied. We fell asleep in that room without a care in the world. The fall was upon me; this was going to be the act that would send my marriage crashing down, but for one night I'd laughed while the world burned. To be continued... ***** Tigersman edited this story. Dangerous Ch. 03 When I was 7 years old my mother kicked my father out of our home and our lives. Too much booze, too many loose women; mom understandably had enough. He knew he was wrong and so he didn't fight mom's decision. Just before he left he told me something that should have stuck with me, something I only remembered after my fuck up. He told me that you can do whatever you want in this world, just as long as you pay for it. Well I did what I wanted, I screwed Desmond like there was no tomorrow. I took my pleasure from him, used him to banish my frustrations and insecurities, and ultimately had myself a wonderful, magical night. Reality came with the morning, along with the sure knowledge that I would pay for my behavior, and the bill would be sky-high. The alarm blared. 8:00am in bright red numbers greeted my sleep-encrusted eyes. For a moment I was disoriented. Where am I, I thought, trying to shake off the cobwebs from the night before. Then realization hit. Oh Shit! I sat up; heart racing, dislodging Desmond's powerful hand from my breast in the process. I had spent the entire night with him, never bothering to go home, never even bothering to call. I'd left my cell phone in my car like usual, preferring not to be disturbed while destroying my life with drink. The problem was that my car was still at the bar. Furthermore, I only had about an hour to wash up, get dressed and head off to work. "Wake up Des," I told my partner in sin while shaking his shoulder. "It's after eight, we gotta get to work." "Call off," he said groggily. "I have the room for another day; we could laze around, have some more fun. I'm sure you have enough vacation time to blow off another couple of hours." "No way! At this rate I'm going to be late. I don't have anything else to wear, I barely have time to shower, luckily I have some emergency make up in my purse so I won't look a total mess, but I got to get out of here. You can sit here and 'laze around' as you put it but I have work to do. I headed off to the bathroom; he reached me as I placed my hand on the knob. He grabbed me around my midsection and kissed my neck while rubbing his naked body on my back. "Are you sure I can't persuade you to sleep in?" he said, voice oozing with seduction. That voice, coupled with his slight gyrations, that chiseled, delectable body gliding across my backside, his morning wood standing at attention, all that should have been impossible for me to resist. It had never failed him before, not with me, not with any other woman he'd slept with. Nonplussed, I broke free of his grip, entered the bathroom and shut him on the outside. "No thank you," I said, not feeling a trace of the lust and longing I felt the night before. "We did quite enough last night." I had no time to think about Desmond, I was worried about what I'd say to my husband. Barring short business conferences, I'd never spent a night away from Steven since we'd been married. I was so focused on my impending confrontation with Steven that I hadn't noticed that Desmond wasn't taking the hint until I came out of the bathroom and saw him spread out in a pose straight out of a Chippendale's calendar. "Will you please put your clothes on? I need you to drop me off at work," I told him while trying to hunt out last night's blouse. "Are you serious? How could you think about work," he asked with a tone of sheer disbelief. "I'm laying here in all my glory, ready to give you pleasure like you've never known." He rose from the bed and walked toward me in that dangerous way he had. He backed me up against the wall without touching me. "We made such beautiful music last night and I'll be honest. I want more. I think if you're honest with yourself you'll see that you want more as well." He leaned in slowly for a kiss but at the last minute I turned away my face and pushed him to arm's length. "Look. Desmond," I said in a tone that was as different as night and day from the previous evening. "I told you I'm married, that there is no future for us. I won't lie, last night was amazing. But I've had my fill; go back to your girlfriend or your harem or whatever you have going on. Whatever you think this was, it's over now. Besides, "I said, softening my tone just a bit. "You don't really love me. You dropped me like a hot rock as soon as your transfer to IT came in. You don't expect me to really believe you've been pining for me all this time. No, you wanted to get that notch on your belt. You got what you wanted, I have a lot of explaining to do to my husband, let's just leave it at that ok?" For just a second, so quickly I'd have missed it if I wasn't staring directly at him, an ugly expression crossed his features. He wasn't taking rejection too well and I had the sense that he intended to have me regardless of my feelings on the matter. He tried to turn on the charm and touch me intimately but I was getting more disgusted by the minute. Still I tried to let reason win out. "Desmond, no, I don't want this. Don't make me hate you man, just stop, please." Heedless to my pleas, he just kept touching and getting closer. In no time his naked body was pressed against mine, pinning me to the wall, and he was laying kisses on my neck. I was starting to get pissed; I reached down as if I was succumbing to his seductive moves to grab his dick. Instead I grabbed his balls and squeezed as if I were trying to crush them into powder. "I said NO, asshole," I yelled in his face while he whimpered. He may have tried to say something but I was not in the mood to hear any of it. I believe that bastard would have tried to rape me. Lucky for me that chiseled body and dangerous aura was all for show. "Now, this is how it's going to go. You are going to hand me your car keys and take your SORRY ass in that bathroom while I put my clothes on. Then I'm going to walk out that door. And you better pray to God that I don't call the police and have your ass locked up. " "Wha ... oooh shit that hurts! ... you gonna ...," "Whatever the fuck I want, you fucking RAPIST," I interrupted him. "Now, I am about to go to work. Have fun with your extra day in here. Try not to rape anyone. I don't want to see your face ever again. Nod if you understand you worthless piece of shit." He nodded. I let go so he could slink into the bathroom like a whipped cur, then I gathered his car keys and the rest of my clothes and got dressed in the lobby bathroom. Once I thought I looked presentable enough to be seen in public I walked to the taxi stand, dropping his car keys down the sewer along the way. ------ I walked into the office building about 10 minutes late, shame and anger painted on my face that the best make up in the world couldn't hide. I should have just gone home, but I was still under the illusion that my professional life wasn't as much a mess as my personal life. I still had to MAKE AN EFFORT, for whatever the hell that was worth. I didn't want to notice anyone, talk to anyone, I just wanted to make it to my office with no incident so that I could bury myself in work and not have to think about my fucked up life. But karma had decided that for whatever reason, this would be the day when everything falls apart. Eva quietly slid next to me in the elevator, smiling. I'd never really seen her smile; the sight chilled me to the core. "Lover's spat?" she whispered in my ear. "That's so sad. The night certainly started off promising." My heart rate spiked and alarm bells sounded in my head. "Excuse me?" I feigned ignorance, desperately trying to make the conversation seem normal, innocent, and insignificant. "I believe you heard what I said. I can see the beads of sweat gleaming on your forehead. Of course I could speak a little more clearly, but I'm not sure you'd like it if I told tales out of school." I took a quick glance around the confines of the elevator. Not exactly crowded, yet not empty either. I knew this would be remarked upon during the little fireside chats that had been springing up about me since my affair and I wanted to supply the rumor mill with as little material as possible. Of course Eva didn't give a shit. She enjoyed watching me squirm; she was practically humming. It seemed to take a lifetime for those doors to open. All I could think about was getting out of there, away from everyone's prying eyes, away from the judgmental whispers I imagined were following me. I had to get away, escape. I struggled to remain patient, to seem unfazed by the sure knowledge that Eva was up to something. I'm not sure I was successful, but no one remarked on it as I exited on the first available floor. I had Eva follow me, dreading what she had to say but unable to stand not knowing. We went to the ladies room for privacy. Totally my idea; I'm sure Eva would have been fine with speaking out in the middle of a board meeting. I made sure there were only the two of us in the room, even checking the stalls before daring to speak. When I determined the coast was clear, my speech came out in a rush. "Ok, spill it. What did you mean by that little offhand comment in the elevator? What do you know?" "What do I know? Hmmm, let's see. I know you still had the hots for Desmond, though to be fair that isn't exactly a secret. The entire building knew you wanted a piece from the way you've been moping around here. I know that he wanted to have another go at what he described as prime platinum pussy; I'm guessing he was pleasantly surprised by the note I left in his cubicle saying that you wanted to meet him at O'Malley's. What else what else what else? Oh yeah, I know just from observation that once you get into it, you don't give a fuck about who's watching." "You set me up?" I asked in total shock, eyes widened in fear and disbelief. She just smiled and nodded like the cat that ate the canary. I saw a mischievous glint in her eyes that told me the worst was yet to come. There was something she left out, something deadly important. And then I knew. "You SAW me?" Another nod. Another smile. "Oh my God, you told my husband, didn't you!?" "Oh please," she dismissed that last claim with a wave of the hand, smile still in place. "Poor, Steven, his wife really doesn't pay any attention to him. Woman, I told him about your affair WEEKS ago. For some reason he trusted you though, said that he needed proof." It took a second for the last comment to sink in, for me to put two and two together. When realization hit, I lost all strength in my legs, sinking to the bathroom floor. "He saw it. Steven saw it all," I said in a barely audible whisper. "Well of course he did. I felt I had a responsibility to show him the type of woman he married, a reprehensible, irrepressible slut." Tears sprang unbidden to my downcast eyes. "It was none of your business," I said, voice weary with bitterness and defeat. "You had no RIGHT. How could you do this to me?? I mean you were doing well in Accounting. You were even being considered for department head. To do this, to murder my marriage because of some tiff we had nearly two months ago, that is just so remarkably petty..." She lost that maddenly cheery smile in an instant. Her tone became diamond-hard as she interrupted me. "Petty? You threaten my career, my livelihood, you move me to a department where I have no connections and you call me petty? Let's not act as though the move was in my best interest; you were trying to get rid of a problem. It looks like that's working really well for you. No, bitch. If it weren't for my hard work and determination and yes, my anger, I would have died on the vine and you wouldn't have lifted a finger. I never forget the people who wrong me. Nobody fucks with Evaline Matthews. Nobody." __________ I sat on that bathroom floor crying harder than I ever had before. Eva watched me for a while, taking some perverse pleasure from my misery before finally leaving me. Maybe if I could have fought her claims, shifted my focus I would have been able to handle it better. But she battered me with the truth; I had no defense. My soul laid bare in a 5th floor bathroom, it felt like forever before I could pull myself together enough to drag myself to my office. I cried until I had no tears left. Bad enough my husband knew of my scandalous activities, having him witness them was infinitely worse. What in the world could I say to make this right? Cried out, I eventually made a haphazard attempt at fixing my makeup before making the journey to my office. I knew I looked a mess, I knew that everyone knew I'd had a breakdown, yet the rules of office etiquette kept people from mentioning it. Of course the boss wasn't crying in the bathroom for a half-hour like her best friend died. Whatever gave you THAT idea? I suffered my walk of shame in silence for which I was grateful. I was about to walk into my office when James, my assistant, got my attention. He was clearly uncomfortable but still tried to project a sense of normalcy. "Boss, you have a message on your voicemail. It's from your husband." "Thank you, James," I said calmly, though butterflies of molten lead were forming rapidly in my stomach. "I'll listen to it after I check my emails." I walked in, closed the door and leaned on it. The phone looked like a poisonous snake to my grief-stricken eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was listen to that message, hear the anger and disappointment in Steven's voice, but I had to. I simply had to. I wouldn't have been able to focus on anything else otherwise. I walked to the phone like the condemned walking to the noose, secretly wishing the earth would swallow me before I could reach it. The walk across the room was both longer and shorter than I'd hoped it'd be. A journey of six steps took a half century and was over in an eye blink. I deliberately picked up the receiver and held it to my ear as I pressed the message button. Hey hun, the message said. The bed was a little cold last night. In the future, if you're going to be out all night at least give me a call. Anyway, I picked up the car from the bar already, just come straight home after work. We have a couple things to discuss. That was all. No hint of anger, name-calling or threats of divorce. I listened to that message three more times, trying to glean some hidden meaning from it. Nothing. I tried his cell and the house. Maybe I missed something. He didn't answer either one. I was expecting fire and damnation, I got a bland message with a mild scolding for being out all night without a phone call. Maybe that should have eased my mind, maybe Eva was just fucking with me. There was no doubt she saw me, she knew too much. Maybe she didn't tell him after all, maybe he didn't see. Or could it be that he just didn't care, that he'd already moved on? I didn't know, and that uncertainty made me more nervous. My concentration was in shards; I never even turned on my workstation for thinking about the possibilities. I began to pace. The room suddenly felt too small; I was feeling claustrophobic. My thoughts were running in circles, the tension and stress were nearly unbearable. I had to get out but I couldn't just leave. I had to know what he felt, what he knew. In short, I was freaking the fuck out, and I wanted a drink. I had to calm down, make sense of my scrambled emotions before they overwhelmed me. There was a bottle of bourbon and one cigarette in the bottom drawer of my file cabinet. The bourbon was left by my predecessor and the cigarette was my emergency smoke from when I quit a year ago. I poured myself a shot. Another. Then I mixed a drink and lit my cigarette right in my office. The mixture of nicotine and alcohol served its purpose, letting me calm down, keeping my emotions from spiraling out of control. I was still distraught, but I was better able to deal with it. As I sat there letting the concoction do its work, I thought long and hard about how I got to this point. I had to ask myself some hard questions, face this situation head on. No more of the avoidance game I'd been playing with myself these past couple months. I obviously loved Steven, I wouldn't have been so broken up about the prospect of him discovering my infidelity if I didn't. So why did I cheat? Why Desmond? He had given me the eye but it wasn't as though I'd never been hit on. Five years ago, that little mysterious act he put on would have rolled off me like water off a duck's back. Now all of a sudden he's dangerous? Had the passion, the spark in my marriage, did it die? Was that it? Was my marriage even worth saving? I didn't know, couldn't know the answers to these questions, not without Steven's input. I knew I wanted to continue being married despite the issues, but the ball was in his court. And he couldn't possibly make an informed decision unless he knew all the facts. I decided that I'd finally tell him about what I'd done, and that I would do anything in my power to atone for my wrongs if he forgave me. I owed him fidelity and failed; at least I'd give him honesty. No matter what, I'd abide by his decision to stay or go. Whatever happened, things would have to change in our household. The emotional shocks I'd experienced in the past 24 hours, the crushing guilt and self-loathing, the lost confidence and competence, I was determined to never feel that way again. And if he decided to leave me, at least I'd have closure. __________ The cab pulled up to the curb at around 4:40; I left the building a different woman than the one I was coming in. I was calm, resolute. The endgame was approaching. I had a long road ahead, some hard work was definitely in my future, but at least I'd know what path I'd be taking instead of fumbling in the dark. I lit a cigarette in the back seat of the ride, the familiar buzz comforting me while I prepared myself for the confrontation that would define the rest of my life. I ran through every scenario in my mind's eye, steeling myself for the pain to come. By the time the cab parked in front of my house, I felt I was ready for anything. It's GO time, I thought as I exited the vehicle, purse in hand. Let's get this over with. I put my key in the lock at exactly 5 o'clock and opened the door without hesitation. It was incredibly difficult not to drag my feet, not to avoid this confrontation. But I was done with being a coward. "Honey, I'm home," I said, proud that I'd managed to keep my voice from trembling. "Come on up," said Steven. "I'm in the bedroom." There was something odd about his voice, something familiar but for the life of me I couldn't figure out why. Well, my conscious mind couldn't figure it out; my body knew exactly what was strange about that voice and responded accordingly. My heart quickened, goosebumps rose on my arms, my nipples slowly hardened and I felt a distinct wetness in my loins. Once I noticed the signs of my rising arousal the realization came; Steven was using his bedroom voice to beckon me upstairs. I smiled as I made my way to him. It had been too long since that voice had any effect on me and I welcomed a possible return to intimacy, thinking that it couldn't hurt my cause if we fooled around some. I opened the door. The sight that greeted me made the smile die on my lips immediately. Steven was standing at the foot of our marital bed, stark naked, and he was not alone. Some woman was on her knees in front of him, a collar around her throat and her hands tied with a silver leash behind her back. "Surprise!" he said as he fucked the girl's mouth, one fist tangled in her luxurious raven-black hair. "Have a seat." "Really? Is this some kind of a sick joke?" I yelled through tears. "I know what I did was wrong but this?! This is so fucking uncalled for. I hope you and that slut have a nice life. I'm leaving!" Dangerous Ch. 03 Steven seemed totally unaffected by my outburst, my tears, or my pain. "I said have a fucking seat, Angel. You have no room to say anything after what I had to sit through last night." That shut me up. He reminded me in a very pointed way that my actions, while not equal, were definitely on par with his. The shame kept my outrage at bay and made me comply with his command. I sat on the couch in our bedroom, not wanting to look at my husband pumping in and out of some random girl's mouth but unable to look away. He continued. "Now, I said we had some things to discuss but I am really not interested in anything you have to say. I am issuing you an ultimatum. You betrayed and embarrassed me and so you must be punished. You are going to watch me violate this slut on our marriage bed. If you are a good sport I may let you join in, but under no circumstances are you to leave this fucking room until I release you. Hold on..." he grunted and increased his pace. He was almost there, the signs were unmistakable. It was disgusting. How could he do this? I thought. He wasn't even looking at me by then. He was focused on getting his rocks off. From the sounds she was making, it seemed that she was enjoying herself too. I really wanted to leave but the sight of my husband and his lover together kept me glued to my seat. And although I am deeply ashamed to admit it, it was turning me on. "Oooooh JESUS you can suck a good cock! Shit! About to cum! Don't you dare swallow, you nasty BITCH!" With a final yell he emptied his seed into her mouth. He came in buckets; her cheeks were bulging as she struggled to follow orders, but she proved up to the task. Not a drop spilled. "Oh, sorry, where was I," he spoke casually, as if he'd excused himself to go to the bathroom or something. "Oh yes. What you just saw was nothing compared to what I'm going to do to her before the night is through. Now you have a choice. You can sit here and accept your punishment and afterward we can have a nice heart-to-heart talk about where we go from here, or you can leave and never come back. If you agree to my terms you will seal it with a kiss from my co-star. I believe you already know Eva, right?" What the FUCK!?!?!?!? I thought as she stood and smiled at me, lust and malice sparking in her emerald green eyes. It should have been obvious, but in my defense it was a traumatizing experience walking in on Steven like that. I thought I was prepared for anything but I would have never in a million years pictured the scene playing out before me. And Eva, stern, unforgiving, take-no-prisoners Eva being dominated was almost incomprehensible. She looked like a different person with her hair unbound and her perky breasts standing high on her chest. She looked so wild and primal. She was so completely unlike the button-down conservative joyless spiteful woman I had come to know over the years. I was stunned to say the least. I couldn't think. I couldn't speak. I just sat there, my eyes fastened to the face of my rival. Steven, my asshole husband, saw my distress and acted to break the stalemate. "Eva, be a good slut and share with my wife." That brought me back from whatever planet I was on and back to the situation at hand. It was a situation I had no plan for, no experience to fall back upon. But my options were clear. I was expected to watch the love of my life and my worst enemy screw like minxes on my bed. If I could accept that, if I could roll with it, I'd have a chance at bringing my marriage back from the dead. If I could not, my marriage would surely die. I'd thought it was worth saving, but that was while sitting in my office, blissfully unaware of what my husband had in store for me. Confronted with reality, was my marriage and my pride really worth having to participate in Steven's wicked, sick reindeer games? I faced two impossible choices on that loveseat; the scales could have tipped either way. Strangely enough, it was Eva herself that made me stay. She obeyed Steven's command like it came from God himself, but in my mind's eye she was moving toward me slowly, implacably, like a titan descending on a small town with the intent to crush it. Her expression said it all. You are weak. You're gonna run away. You can't handle watching this. You don't have it in you to do what it takes to keep your husband. She was so sure I was going to run out crying. She smirked around her mouthful of cum, confident in her revenge, confident that she'd won. I simply could not let that stand. I told myself I'd do whatever it takes to atone; she wasn't going to beat me. Little Miss Second Place would remain so, for Angels always triumph over Evil. She didn't see the internal battle going on in my head as she stalked towards me, didn't notice when my resolve firmed. So she was surprised when at the last minute I grabbed her collar and pulled her to me. "Give me that seed, slave," I purred as I drew her in for a kiss. We swapped fluids and shared my husband's cum with passion fueled by lust and hate. I lost myself in the sensation, gave in to the rising sexual energy in my bedroom. I'd never kissed a woman before, so I was pleasantly surprised at how good it felt, at how good she was at it. It was so amazing, I nearly forgot the reason I was kissing her in the first place, the reason she was standing naked in my room wearing nothing but a collar and leash. It was obvious from Steven's still stiff prick that he enjoyed the show. "I like your enthusiasm, Ang. You know, I kinda thought you were gonna bail. As a reward for complying with my wishes, I'm going to let you sample her oral skills further. Slut, grab the blindfold and come here." "Yes, Master." She grabbed the blindfold from the dresser with her teeth and brought it to Steven like a faithful dog fetching slippers. He then freed her hands and allowed her to 'do the honors' as he put it. Eva stood behind me and placed the blindfold over my eyes. I didn't resist, just placed my body in their capable hands. They disrobed me slowly, sensually. My jacket and blouse came off first, and I marveled at the contrast in sensations. His hands, as familiar to me as my own, rough and strong as they claimed my exposed skin; her soft, supple hands gliding across my flesh and leaving nothing but pleasure in their wake; the sensory input was closing in on overload before they ever reached my still-covered nipples. Off came my lacy bra, my business skirt, my matching panties. At one point I didn't know whose hands were where, whose lips were kissing my body, only that the sensations they were causing within me were absolutely glorious. They made me lie down and spread my legs. Then Evaline went to work, feasting on my pussy with a vengeance. Masterful. Everything I felt up to that point paled in comparison to her skill in bringing my pussy ultimate pleasure. The way she nibbled and teased my lips, her expertise and timing in knowing just when to go for my clit, the way she changed tempo; my climax was upon me almost before I could process it. In no time my orgasmic juices were flowing down her chin as if she'd bitten into an overripe peach. Then the blindfold was removed and I was treated to an eyeful of Steven's member. He told me to suck him off and I did gladly. I caressed his balls lovingly while sucking him for all I was worth, with nary a hint of hesitation. Eva had inspired me to be a nasty girl. He didn't allow me to finish him off although nothing would have made me happier. I made it wet for him, so that he could more easily enter his slave, our lover. He grabbed her hips and entered her in one long stroke before pounding her pussy in earnest. Her screams of pleasure were muffled by my mound as she still made an effort to give me as many orgasms as any one human can stand. Then Steven caught the leash and choked up on in, detaching her lips from my pussy and robbing me of stimulation. I became a spectator again, watching as he rode her bucking hips to release. As beautiful a sight it was, I was turning green with envy. It was supposed to be punishment so I suppose I had no right to complain, but they had allowed me to participate, to get pleasure from the experience. I mean, she was fucking MY husband dammit! I wanted to feel him in my most intimate places too. But he'd barely touched me, instead spending the majority of his efforts on Eva. I watched as Steven gave her his seed while playing with myself, frustrated by the lack of stimulation yet still aroused by the scene playing out before me. I decided to do something about it. I stood up and took the leash from Steven's hand. He didn't resist, perhaps curious about what I'd do next. First I pulled her to me and gave her a scorching kiss. Then I laid her down, her head facing the foot of the bed. "Eat my pussy, you filthy slut," I told her as I squatted down on her face. She took to the task eagerly, as if one taste wasn't enough to satisfy her hunger. I then took the liberty of cleaning her pussy of all traces of my husband's sperm, trying to duplicate the technique she used while eating me out. Soon she was bucking up against my face, instant validation for someone who'd never licked pussy before. Finally, after making sure Eva was taken care of, I turned to see Steven watching our carnal embrace with a faraway expression, as if he were seeing all his dreams play out in High Definition. "Master," I said in a little-girl voice, completely submissive. "Won't you please fuck my ass?" It was my trump card. In all our years of marriage I had never let him play back there, was always too afraid to. After a while he gave up asking for it but I could tell from a glance at his internet history that he never stopped wanting to. I had to show him that I was willing to do anything for him. If that meant playing the slave girl or giving him my final virginity then that was a small price to pay in order to keep him. The offer made his eyes light up, had almost made him forget he was playing the role of Cruel Master. Then he surprised me right back. "Slut, prepare her for my cock." I could almost feel her smile before she started rimming my ass. It felt strange but not unpleasant, just totally unexpected. She went HAM on my ass, making wet, slopping noises as she tongued my rosebud like a woman possessed. I was just starting to get into the experience when she suddenly stopped. It jarred me out of my zone, but before I could look back and wonder what was going on, her tongue was replaced by a questing digit covered in lube. Steven eased his finger past my O-ring and gave me a minute to adjust. Eva, ever helpful, returned to licking my pussy; her aim was to relax me, not make me cum. Her swipes were long, gentle, and excruciatingly slow. I had my arms to either side of her body, my back arched as I once again settled on her face. They worked well as a tandem, and their efforts had the desired effect of preparing me for what was to come. When Steven's finger was removed however, I knew that the show was about to begin. I was doing my best to look as though I was ready. Hell, I asked for it. But I couldn't help but tense as Steven approached me with his weapon, glistening and ready to penetrate my final frontier. Eva reached up and spread my cheeks for him. I had to watch, although I was frightened. There's no way that is going to fit inside me, I thought. Fortunately, he did not just dive right in. He teased, rubbing his shaft against my asshole while his slave sucked his balls. Unfortunately, I was starting to get restless; he was waiting a little too long to claim his prize. As frightened as I was to have him back there, I needed him to penetrate me. I needed it. So I begged him for it. I called him Master and begged and pleaded for his cock. That simple piece of humility seemed to be what he was waiting for. He granted my request, placing the head of his penis at my anal opening and pushing his way in. Slowly but implacably he pushed. It was so tight; my body struggled to accommodate and adjust to his size, his girth. There was no give to that iron shaft. I would be pierced. And it was painful; no matter how much care he used or how slowly he went I knew that there would be pain. Eva worked feverishly on my clit to give me something else to focus on and I clung to that lifeline of pleasure like a drowning person reaching for a life preserver. The back of my thighs touched the front of his. He had buried himself inside me to the hilt. I felt so full. Jesus I felt full! After a minute to let my anus relax around his dick he began to move. Slowly at first, for my ass gripped him at every move, then gradually faster as those pain signals started converting to ones of pleasure. It was a totally different feeling from when my pussy gets fucked, but no less satisfying. Frankly it felt unbelievable, especially once Eva added a couple fingers in my pussy and fingered me to the rhythm of Steven's thrusts. I'm not sure how she kept pace; Steven was really sticking it to me, almost like he was hate-fucking me. I loved it. "Fuck me!" I shouted. "Oh SHIT yes! Fuck my ass! Fuck my nasty hole! Punish me with that fat cock!" I was delirious with pleasure. He took me out of this universe. I came and came and came again, orgasm after orgasm, blending together for one continuous high. I screamed myself hoarse. It put all my previous sexual escapades to shame, and at its height I felt I could not love another person more than the two people I'd shared this experience with. When I felt those fiery jets of semen in my colon it triggered a final, mind-numbing orgasm and I collapsed in a heap, unable to move yet still trying to reach for my lovers, one old and one new. __________ Hope can be a wonderful thing, combining potential with optimism for the future. But when hope fails, it can be a real brass-balled bitch. I laid in post-coital bliss, fully expecting Steven and Eva to join me, eager for the chance to be close to these people that had made my first lesbian experience and my first attempt at anal sex so wonderful. I really thought we had a chance to make things right, to make it all work out. I knew that there was no chance he'd forget about my cheating ways, but after what we shared, after showing him my willingness to atone, I was confident that I could get back in his good graces, especially with Eva to help out. I couldn't have been more wrong. It took Steven about a minute to get dressed after he exploded inside my bowel. "Well ladies, it has been fun," he said glibly. "Amazing, really. Excellent job. Anyway, I gotta go. I'll fax you the divorce papers in the morning. I sat up in alarm. "Huh? What do you mean, Steven? You're leaving me? After what we just shared? I thought we were going to talk about this, try to work it out. You said if I stayed you would give me a chance!" I'll never forget what he did next. He laughed at me, a short bark that carried within it so much disdain and disgust; he dismissed me and my hope dried up like a puddle in the desert sun. "You thought that one good fuck would fix our broken marriage? Really? I almost killed myself when I found out you were cheating on me. If Eva didn't have an ax to grind I would have never touched you. Thanks for giving me your ass though. I half-suspected you'd given that to your lover too but I guess I was the lucky one huh?" He turned his back on me, on the way out the door without a second glance. With strength I didn't know I possessed I sprang to my feet and caught his hand as he reached the doorknob. "Please," I cried while falling to my knees, pleas for forgiveness and promises pouring forth rapidly. "Please give me another chance! I promise I'll make it up to you. I'll never cheat on you again. I'll be a better wife. I'll do any freaky thing you ever thought of, fulfill each and every fantasy, just PLEASE don't go. Don't leave me Steven. We can make this work, I know we can!" He shook his hand loose from my grip and his expression turned cold, his heart, stone. "You say that and that's all well and good but the bottom line is, I can't trust you anymore. Maybe if you came to me before it got to this point I could have tried to work this out with you. I had to find out from one of your former employees. I bet I was the laughingstock of your office. I bet you would have never told me about it unless you were forced; you would have taken that secret to the grave. Hell, you still haven't told me; frankly, I don't care about the details anymore. You can keep the house and the car, I'll even pay alimony, but this marriage is done. Have a nice life." With that final, devastating shot to the heart he walked out the bedroom and out of my life, leaving me with Eva as a witness to my humiliation. She sat on the bed with a look of sadness and regret, speechless in the face of my hard, racking sobs. "Well," I cried. "I hope you're happy. You got what you wanted, you ruined my life. Now get out of my house." She reached out her hand halfway to me, paused, thought better of it, and lowered it. "Angel I'm sorry..." "I said GET THE FUCK OUT!!" I screeched. My eyes were blurry as I cried until there were no tears left, the second time in less than 24 hours. If Eva said something before walking out, I never heard it. I was focused solely on my misery. Steven really did have the ultimate revenge by making me think I had a chance. Striving for that chance made me humiliate myself in front of my worst enemy, made me commit acts I would have never considered otherwise. And while the result was amazing, that actually made it worse. It's like never tasting ice cream then finally getting some of the most delicious ice cream ever created, only to find that you can never have it again. I fell into a deep depression. I didn't eat, didn't watch TV, I just sat in bed and stared at the wall, ragged sobs escaping me from time to time. As for work, I just...stopped going. I couldn't face my co-workers, my staff, my bosses, not anymore. My confidence and sense of self-worth, traits that helped me to rise high, they were shattered beyond repair. It took me forever just to find the motivation to get out of bed, I took it that hard. By the time I was a semblance to my former self two months had passed and the divorce papers were gathering dust in my home office. I signed them and faxed them back to Steven's lawyer, and then I had myself a good cry. Afterward I walked through my home like a ghost. It was remarkably clean considering that I hadn't cared about cleanliness for quite a while. I stopped in the living room; there was an envelope on top of an ornate onyx-colored box sitting directly in the center of my dining room table, visible from all the way across the room, impossible to miss. Confused and mildly curious, I walked over to the table and opened the envelope. It was from Eva! Sorry for what happened, she wrote. I'd be lying if I said I never meant to hurt you but for what it's worth I wish I would have checked my impulses for revenge. Listen, I felt something when we were together, something I never expected to feel. I want to explore it further if you're willing. I won't try to interfere with your mourning process, especially since I'm partly responsible. But when you feel you're ready, please call me. I sat in the chair stunned, having trouble processing the wave of emotions coursing through me. Shame and anger certainly, but also warmth because it seemed someone still cared for me. I guessed she was responsible for keeping the house clean while I was checked out. And was that a bit of lust, some arousal? I had just barely recovered; I couldn't be expected to deal with all that just yet. Then, curious and more than a little bit intrigued, I opened the box. The inside was lined in red velvet and contained a single item, a collar-and-leash set, solid silver with OWNED BY ANGEL engraved in the collar. Was I ready? I didn't know. But as I walked to the phone, I figured it was time to find out. Dangerous Ch. 03 THE END