Killing Heather

Chapter 7

“can i help you…?”

Her voice is shaken, and somewhat reserved. She’s shiny with sweat, and seemingly trying to hide that she is out of breath. I tried not to stare, but it was hard to not notice she wasn’t wearing anything but a baggy t-shirt. Her flawless breasts pressed against the cloth exposing an outline of her perfect n*****s. The half circles of her piercings hiding closely behind. What was she doing..?

Fuck- answer her dumbass

“Uhh- yeah hi. I - uhh..”

fuck I know what I want to say but the words are caught in my chest.

“Do I know you or something? Are those for me?” She demanded impatiently, motioning to the roses. She had an edge to her voice. I must have interrupted. She seems very preoccupied in thought.

“Oh yeah! Sorry! I actually just stay down the road not but two doors down. I came to return your mail. Somehow it got delivered to my house, and when I realized it was the beautiful woman that I pass on my way home from work; I took it as an opportunity to come and introduce myself.”

Most of that was a lie, but I can tell she’s received it well enough. She’s looking at me intensely, and I can’t help but to feel a pull of desire coming from her. Her eyes are open and wide, almost as if I’ve caught her in trance..

A sealed envelope appears from the back pocket of my jeans. In one hand the letter, and in the other the roses. I extend my arms to her in offering. My heart pounding in my chest.

“Oh.. thank you…” her voice was soft and timid now. I could not figure out if she was scared, or something else.

“That’s actually really sweet of you”

She surrendered a soft smile, and looked towards the ground.

I could feel her eyes inspecting me. Taking in all the information i’ve surprised her with.

I am considerably taller than her, and many women throughout my life have considered me attractive; or so they say. Perhaps she will enjoy the fact that I am also covered in tattoos, like she is. I’ve been working out constantly and my booming vitality is abundantly obvious. Honestly, I know I’m hot. Many guys can’t compare to me, and I have a secret skill when it comes to pleasing women. For some reason I can almost feel that she likes what she sees, and it excites me.

I take this time to observe her more closely. Starting at her toes. Painted a russet orange probably a few weeks ago because the polish had begun to chip away. Even her feet are perfect. f**k… A small red beaded anklet decorated her right shin. I notice a drop of liquid run down the inside of her thigh, and at first I was baffled, but it quickly occurred to me why she was acting so frustrated, and she was wearing so little.

I had interrupted something indeed.

I was going to continue with my inspection but I realized we had been standing in silence for longer than a few seconds now. I slightly panic, and search for feedback in her face. I’m startled with the fact she’s staring directly at me. Directly into my soul . I feel as if my life begins to flash before my eyes, and a droplet of sweat runs down my brow and across my temple.

Her locked gaze distracted by the bead of moisture unconsciously created out of my nervousness.

I muster up the strength to say my final ado, and fumble out “well I should probably be goi-“

“Would you like to come in?”

Her words are concise, and direct.

Before I have a chance to answer she grips me hard by my wrist, and pulls me inside.

The door slams behind us.