Cue the rain and brimstone.
I see that old vintage car swirling behind mine,
but I'm not scared.
He's been following me since I left that five and dime in town.
I don't really remember his features,
but I do remember the hands.
They weren't the typical lotion treated,
manicured ones you see in this self righteous, pretensions city.
He had rough, callus cracked, working hands.
The kind you develop from outside jobs like a rancher or city worker.
I pulled up to my gate and typed in the code to my private drive way.
The Iron fence creaked its way open,
he followed in behind me.
I parked in the garage and closed the door behind me,
before he could follow me into the house.
I slinked into the kitchen, discarding my purse.
I untied my red head scarf and let it fall to the floor,
before removing two cognac glasses.
I splashed a little in each and turned to meet him.
He had helped himself inside already.
I wasn't scared.
In fact, this was part of the hunt.
I handed him a glass and got a good look at him for the first time.
He had jet black hair slicked back in a pompadour.
One eye was brown, the other icy blue.
I took a sip of some cognac, still holding the glass out to him.
He knocked the glass from my hand.
It crashed near my feet, but I wasn't giving in to his tricks.
I smashed my glass near his feet to call it even.
He just stared, with those hauntingly beautiful eyes and took hold of my wrists.
He pulled me closer and ran his paws down my shoulders to the elbow.
I stood emotionless ,but my body reacted with goosebumps.
I closed my eyes as he wrapped his mits around my throat and leaned in for a kiss.
His scent was that of pine and musk.
It was intoxicating and troubling.
He firmly kissed me, drawing blood from my bottom lip.
His breathing became erratic as he exhaled loudly through his nostrils.
This was it.
No turning back.
The world began to fade,
and yet,
all I could do was smile
and prolong his embrace, until it was gone.
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