Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot line; the characters belong to Stephanie Meyer.

A/N: This is for the Twilight Underestimated Characters Story Contest. Massive thanks to my beta cupcakeriot who made my writing so pretty and put up with my rambling.

WARNING CONTAINS GRAPHIC SCENES OF A SEXUAL NATURE, SOME NON-CONSENSUAL. DO NOT READ IF THIS IS A TRIGGER FOR YOU.

I'm racing towards the bridge, stumbling as the Enterprise is being fired upon, and the vibrations from the torpedo hitting the shields trembles through the starship. The red warning light is flashing to alert all crewmembers we're under attack, like no one had noticed, and the Captain's voice is echoing through the intercom requesting all commanding officers to the bridge. I was on the engineering deck when the enemy ship fired upon us - no warning or any request for communication, just straight to the attack. I reach the bridge, the elevator doors open and I stumble out towards the Captain.

"Number One, what's the situation in Engineering? How long will the shields hold?"

I give him my report and he curses - one more precision hit and we're sitting ducks. It's not good. He barks out orders to Lieutenant Commander La Forge, while requesting updates form Lieutenant Commander Data, and the Engineering deck, when the communications com-link bleeps with an incoming message.

"On screen," the Captain commands as he situates himself in his chair. The computer complies and brings the image up for all to see and-

It's my Mum, on screen, sitting in the enemy Captain's chair. My mouth drops open in shock and I take an involuntary step forward.

Finding my voice, I question, "Mum?"

Not my most articulate sentence but I think it conveys my shock and disbelief nicely. Her mouth opens as if to respond, but instead of words, there's this horrible, too familiar, ear-splitting beep, beep, beep.

I blink my eyes open and for a second, I have no fucking clue as to where I am. A quick glance to my left, and I realize I'm in my room, in bed, and that noise is my alarm clock. I hit the snooze button and scrub a hand over my face, trying to shake that crazy dream.

That's the last time I watch Star Trek: Next Generation reruns before bed.

I'd spoken to Mum last night and that had prompted the marathon of Piccard; she'd been cleaning out my old room over the last couple of weeks and had found a load of my old stuff. She said she wouldn't throw them away, but she was running out of room, and she might have to send them to me – which was awesome, although I don't really have much room for them here to be honest.

Every available surface of my flat has been dedicated to my "toys", as Mum likes to call them. They are collectables really, my biggest one being the Star Wars collection. I have an awesome Millennium Falcon model - it is the shit!

I'm a bit of a nerd, have been since I was a kid, but ever since University, where I filled out and chicks started to notice me, I've tried to down-play that side of me. Girls just don't find comics that sexy, which is why I never bring any of the girls I hook up with here.

I'm certain that my 'I Believe X-Files' poster above my bed and the autographed picture of William Shatner on my bedside table would kill the mood quick.

Stretching my arms above my head and, yawning so much I look like Nearly Headless Nick, I head to the bathroom and a much-needed shower. I turn the water on and strip out of my Sponge Bob pajama bottoms, starting brushing my teeth as the shower water heats. I peer at my reflection in the steamed up mirror and decide that I can probably get away with not shaving. I've got that day-old-stubble-look going on, but it's only Monday and I don't think anyone expects me to have completely recovered from my weekend yet.

Getting in the shower, I tip my head forward under the water flow to wet my hair and think about the day ahead. Meetings and phone calls mostly – which is so boring but it pays the bills.

I lather up my shower gel and scrub myself down from my blond hair to my feet, before rinsing off and stepping out in to the steam-filled bathroom. I love being a guy and not having to deal with a separate cleaner for my hair and body. After wrapping a towel around my waist, I bend over to pick up my pajamas but they aren't there.

Strange. Maybe I already put them in the wash basket? Or maybe I'm losing my head? I need caffeine pronto!

I walk back in to the bedroom, and a chilling breeze is whipping in through the open window, making my balls want to shrivel up and die.

Jesus it's cold. I can't believe I fell asleep with the window open again. My heating bill is going to be insane. I close the window and finish getting dressed, because if I don't hurry I'm going be late for work, and I already hate Mondays enough without my boss bitching at me before lunchtime. I love living in Soho - it's close to some really great clubs and pubs, but the hour commute to London's financial district in Canary Wharf is a massive pain in the ass.

I glance at the clock and sigh. I just want to get home – really, it's cruel to make a guy work until five on a Friday. As soon as I can shower, shave, and change, I can head to the pub and have a frosty cold one by six-thirty. Man, I love Fridays. But I hate my job. I work so I can make enough money to pay the rent, and then party all weekend with my boys.

Hey, what can I say? I'm single, twenty-four years old, and I live in London. It's practically law that I party my weekend away.

Like, last weekend, which was insane. I still have missing memories, though I do remember Jasper hooking up with some fat chick so I could get with her friend. Man, she was hot. A small little thing with killer curves, fiery curls, and a pouty mouth; she had the most innocent green eyes, but fuck me if her mouth wasn't the filthiest thing I've ever heard. And she hadn't made a big deal about it when we were done and I wanted to take off – it's so much easier when the chick understands that it's a one-time thing.

Jasper didn't get it so easy. Poor bastard. I'd found him almost begging the chubby pixie for his shoes. He has the worst luck. Usually ends up with the crazy chick. Eventually, he gave up and let her keep them, then sulked all the way home like a little bitch. He may be my brother, but I swear, he's got PMS worse than any chick I've ever met.

Damn. Will this day ever end? If I wasn't using my Mac to tell the time, I'd be up and checking the batteries in that damn clock – it's like the time has been stuck at a quarter 'til for an hour.

I stand from my seat and send a sly look over the top of my cubicle toward the floor manager's office, hoping he'd left already so I could sneak away early. No such luck. He's still there. Caius seriously needs to get laid – he always works late, and is always the first to volunteer to work weekends. Dude needs to get his priorities straight. Maybe he could hook up with one of the admin girls at the Christmas party-

Oh, fuck! The party! That's tonight.

I groan in frustration. I'd totally forgotten, and now, instead of a fun-filled evening with sinfully hot women, I'll have to kiss ass with the boys upstairs. Like I don't spend enough time here during regular hours, now I have to spend my Friday night here, too?

My day is officially ruined. I sink down in my chair and pout like a sullen child. Fuck, yeah, it's melodramatic, but damn, I had plans that involved massive amounts of vodka and scantily clad girls – and replacing those plans just to spend my free time with pretentious assholes and the fuckwits that work for them really fucks me off.

Pull it together, Riley. You're starting to sound like a damn teenage girl. If you don't pull it together, your dick might just drop off.

I take a deep breath and think rationally, big-boy pants firmly in place – really, it's just an office party, one night, and I can leave by eleven. I can still make it to the pub before all the hot chicks are gone. Great plan; get in good with the bosses, then get in good with the pub girls.

Another glance at the clock tells me that it's only a few minutes until five, and that's good enough for me. I pack up my shit and move for the exit, keeping my head down so no one can engage me in any inane office-small-talk-bullshit-banter. I'll get plenty of that later.

Speed walking to the elevator makes me feel like I'm Indiana Jones – like I'm running from spear-throwing locals, especially when, just as the elevator doors open, Caius comes out of his office. I send a quick thank you up to the big guy as the elevator closes before he can spot me. I may or may not hum the Indiana Jones theme tune under my breath as I jam my finger hard against the G button. I make it to the lobby without anyone joining me, and smile as I flag a taxi down.

In the taxi, I text Jasper about my change of plans, dropping my head back onto the seat and closing my eyes when my fucknut brother doesn't text me back. I hope tonight doesn't drag as much as today did.

I race from the bathroom, trying not to slip on the wet tiles, while simultaneously wrapping a towel around my waist and reaching for my ringing phone. Who says guys can't multi-task?

It's Jasper. Fucking finally. I answer the phone, but don't even get a semi-polite greeting before he's ordering me about.

"Turn on the news."

"Hello to you, too, Asshat," I respond. "I know Mum taught you manners, so why don't we try to start off this conversation with, like, a greeting, and then go from there. Should we try again?" The sarcasm is thick in my tone, and this usually sets Jasper off – he'll go on a big rant. But today, he just tells me to shut up and, again, to turn on the news. He sounds worried, so I generously stop being an asshole, and actually turn on the television. The news anchor is twittering on about the economy and, yeah, while that actually is worrying, it's been this way for a while now. I'm not sure why Jasper is concerned now; he didn't care last month. "Jasper, I'm busy man. Why am I watching the mousy brunette talk about the state of the Country? What's going on?"

Before he can answer, the news anchor announces that it's time to get an update on the headlines, and right there on my television, a picture of a burning building flashes on screen. But not just any building - Victoria and Alice's.

"That's where we were last weekend," Jasper tells me.

"Dude. What the hell?"

I turn up the television so I can hear the details. Apparently, the fire started on the 9th floor staircase – which was Victoria and Alice's floor – in the middle of the night last Friday, then spread through the building. The entire floor was engulfed within 15 minutes. Residents from the floors above and below were evacuated safely, but the residents from the 9th floor have been admitted to the hospital for smoke inhalation and severe burns.

Icy fear runs through my body. We left, literally, like two hours before the fire started. That could have been us.

I turn my attention back to the television before my mind can start conjuring up all the weird that has been happening lately. The fire marshal classified the fire at the flat as suspicious, and has confirmed that the fire was no accident; at the scene, fire accelerant, otherwise known as a shitload of gasoline, was poured throughout the 9th floor, and firefighters discovered that the smoke detectors and fire alarms on floors 9 and up had been ripped from all the trip switches.

I sit down heavily on the couch. That's some scary shit. "Can you believe this? What are we going to do?"

I frown at Jasper's question. Maybe I'm in shock or something, but I don't see that we have to do anything. "What do you mean? We don't have to do anything because this has nothing to do with us. We were only there for an hour on Friday."

Jasper sighs on the other end of the line. "They're appealing for witnesses! We have to call the hotline and tell them we were there. What if they find evidence of us being there, and we don't call, and then they think we did it? I can't go to prison! Have you seen my ass?"

I love my brother, really, I do – but fuck me, he can be so fucking stupid sometimes.

"Are you high? Seriously, what has you so paranoid? Besides, we left on their elevator and the flat was burned out. What evidence could they possibly find? And even if they did find anything, why the fuck would they put you in prison?" I can practically hear the cogs moving in his head as he thinks, and I glance at the clock to check the time. Great. Now I'm going to be late to this stupid office party. "As weird as this is, Jasper, I don't have time for your crazy right now. I'll see you later at the pub."

I hang up and stare at the phone for a second, shaking my head at his stupidity. Honestly, it's a good thing that he's such a good wingman, or I'd leave his dumb ass at home. Clearly, I got the looks and the brains.

Still, as I finish getting dressed, I can't shake the feeling of unease that crawled up my spine when I saw that building on fire.

I've only been here an hour and my head is already hurting. I can feel my pulse beating inside my skull in time to the cheesy Christmas music and it's putting me in a slightly murderous rage. Not even this glass of scotch is chilling me out. Everywhere I look, I'm blinded by sequins and bad Christmas jumpers, which are not helping my mood at all. And to make things worse, I've been cornered by Caius and all he can talk about is work.

I thought this was supposed to be a fucking party?

This is my third drink so far and I'm feeling a little tipsy. I should probably slow down but the news report from earlier has me seriously freaking out. My thoughts trip and stumble over the details, and I can't shake the eerie feeling that this wasn't a coincidence. Weird things have been happening to me lately - doors and windows open at home when I was so sure I'd locked them, strange phone calls where no one is on the other end, random postcards post stamped from London.

I had assumed that the postcards were for Mrs. Mallory next-door, as I keep getting flower deliveries for her, but…thinking back on everything, I'm not so sure. But why would anyone send me postcards from London? And then, on Saturday, I got a package from Mum; the fire engine I used to play with as a kid, but I'd only talked to her about that on Sunday. Talk about bad timing Mum. Maybe I've just been watching too many episodes of X-Files, and my paranoia is just my over-active imagination.

Or maybe something weird really is happening – like Caius finally running out of business procedure to chat about.

Caius stops for breath and, after downing my drink, I use it as an excuse to walk away. I wasn't really listening to him anyway.

When I reach the buffet table, if you can even call it that, I decide to skip getting a drink, and pick up a mystery sandwich and a cold chicken leg. Real Christmassy, not even a mince pie. I shake my head in wonder at the catering company my bosses decided to hire and turn away from the table to head towards the guys from IT. They're always good for a laugh.

I'm waving at Ben right when I walk straight in to the tiniest woman I've ever seen.

She's wearing those ridiculous platform high heels most women wear these days, so her balance isn't great, and when I bump into her, that just makes things worse and a look of panic flashes on to her face as she starts to topple backwards. Instinct kicks in, and she throws her arms out towards me as I throw mine out to catch her, and we end up in this awkward hug-type-embrace. Then I realize I hadn't let go of my sandwich and the mystery filling is now mashed against the back of her dress.

Real fucking smooth Riley. She straightens up but doesn't let go of my shoulders, as she's still a little wobbly, which makes my hands slip round from the small of her back to her waist, smearing the creamy mess over more of her dress. Shit.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there. I'm such an ass! Are you ok?" My apology is about as smooth as tree bark, and I wince in embarrassment.

Just kill me now. When did I regress back in to nerdy teenage boy status?

She gives me a small smile and it hits me right in the chest - my heart stutters, and my brain just about shuts down. I've never been affected by a woman like this before. She takes my breath away.

My eyes automatically scan down her body and sweet baby Jesus what a body. Platinum blonde hair that she's curled and twisted in to an intricate style literally shines from the lights above us, her bangs are left loose and fall just above her icy blue eyes, which sparkle with curiosity. My eyes fall lower, past the elegant slope of her nose to her sinfully pouty mouth, which she's stained with the brightest red lipstick I've ever seen. Her neck is graceful, her skin so milky smooth that it's all I can do not to reach out and run my fingers over her collarbones. My eyes can't travel any lower, as the longer I've studied her, the closer I've pulled her to me, and now we're completely pressed together, and I can feel all of her curves against me. Surely, a good two minutes have passed, and all I've done is gawk at her while pressing this non-Christmassy sandwich onto her ass. Fuck.

I step back and, after getting rid of the goddamned sandwich, I put my hands back on her waist. It's almost painful to not touch her. There's a tension running between us and I realize it's because I haven't introduced myself.

What has this woman done to me? I'm normally much better at this.

"I'm Riley, by the way, and I'm sorry for nearly knocking you down…and then for smearing God knows what on your dress…and then for practically rubbing myself on you. Fuck, I need to stop talking." I hang my head in shame, my cheeks flaming red, and I pray to every God I can think of that the ground will open up and swallow me whole.

But then a miracle happens, she giggles, and it's the most heavenly sound. "I'm Jane. I work in Admin downstairs and I don't mind one bit that you nearly knocked me down, or that you rubbed yourself on me for that matter. I've been trying to get your attention all night," she winks and giggles again.

I just about kiss her right then, because she's perfect - an angel for sure. I'm not sure what I've done to deserve this but I'll crawl on hands and knees for all of my days in gratitude if I get to keep her.

Jane interrupts my inner musings with a sarcastic tone. "Although, I really could have done without the egg mayonnaise on my new dress."

I'm horrified that I've offended her, and I'm about to beg and offer my life as sacrifice for her ruined dress, when I notice the coy smile gracing her lips. She's teasing me and I'm almost dizzy with relief.

"Egg mayonnaise, I was wondering what that was." Am I really talking about egg fucking mayo? What the hell is wrong with me? I clear my throat and gather my game again, because it doesn't matter how gorgeous she is – I haven't fumbled like this in years and tonight is not the night I start to become that nerd from high school again. I run my hand down her waist, over her hip and then around, almost touching her ass, "I know a great way to get that out of silk. I'd be more than happy to show you at your apartment, when you're wearing something a little less... well less. "

Fuck, yeah! Finally, my game is back.

Jane blushes at my suggestion, and its soul destroying how beautiful she is; the blush spreads from her cheeks and down that pretty neck of hers, and I know right then that she owns me.

"Can I get you a drink, beautiful?"

She smiles at my compliment and it just lights up her whole face. "I'd love one Riley, thank you." She turns towards the makeshift bar the caterers have set up in the corner, and that's when I notice the full extent of the damage that fateful sandwich has done to her ruby red dress.

Jesus fuck, I can't believe how fucking clumsy I was.

"Err Jane?" I grab her dainty wrist to stop her from moving any further into the room, and get lost in how soft her skin feels for a moment before I shake myself out of the daydream, and carry on with my confession. "Your dress is actually a lot worse than I thought. I'm sorry. I feel like such an ass. I'll pay for it to be cleaned and even replace it if it's completely ruined. I promise, but you may want to go and try to clean it up a little now." I wince after I finish my ramble.

Her lower lip trembles a little and I'm totally freaking out that she's about to burst in to tears, so I drop her wrist like it's been dipped in acid. I can't handle a crying chick man they get scary.

"Hey, it'll be ok. No one else has noticed yet, that's why I thought I'd let you know before other people started staring. Why don't you go to the bathroom to clean up a little and I'll get us some drinks. How does that sound?" I'm praying that she accepts my offer when she lurches forward and grabs my shirt in her tiny fists; she's locked on so tight her knuckles turn white.

"You're trying to ditch me?" Her eyes are so, so wide and her brow is furrowed like she's trying to understand what I'm saying - but it's like she speaks Elvish, and I'm spurting out Klingon. My suggestion has had the opposite affect and I can see the tears pooling in her crystal eyes. Fuck.

"No, God no. Not at all sweetheart. I'm dying to get to know you and I just thought you'd be more comfortable talking with me if you didn't have egg smeared all over your ass."

I can't believe that just fell out of my mouth. Have I mentioned that I'm an ass lately? My eyes are screwed shut and I'm willing my brain to self-destruct for real this time, when that miraculous giggle curls from her lips again and filters in to my ears. I think I've just had an ear-gasm, is that even a thing? I pop an eye open to check my ears haven't played a cruel trick on me, and when I see that knee-weakening smile, the other eye follows the first, and I get the full effect of her beauty.

"Oh, ok then. I'll have Vodka-orange please, and I'll meet you over by the windows, is that ok?" She is utterly adorable, a real bombshell, and she doesn't seem to know it. The way she holds herself seems to scream self-confidence, but the way she speaks to me is all coy smiles and nervous giggles. Like I said, adorable.

After I watch her walk away, and holy Christ what a walk, I make my way to the bar and order our drinks. The seating area that's been set up by the windows is empty, and as if that wasn't good enough, some clever fuck has hung mistletoe above the cream couches. Finally, something is going my way tonight. I'll have to find the mistletoe guy and buy him a drink.

I sip my scotch, much slower than I was earlier, and think about Jane. I've known her less than 10 minutes and she's already crawled under my skin. She's in my system; I can feel her there in my blood as my heart pumps it round my body while beating her name. My fingers are still tingling from that tiny contact with her bare skin, and I absent mindedly rub them across my thumb, trying to prolong the feeling.

I'm staring out at the city when I see her reflection appear in the glass and all the breath leaves my body in one shaky exhale. She's stunning and I don't think I'll ever get used to it. I turn to face her so I can watch her walk to me properly and my smile is huge and natural. I just can't help it. Jane returns my goofy grin with a shy smile and my heart stutters painfully.

Christ this is crazy, I don't even know this chick.

Jane sits on the couch next to me and our knees are touching, and it's sweet and innocent, but it sets my body on fire. "Hi," she whispers, and I can't help but chuckle at her nervousness.

"Don't go getting all shy on me now, I need to know everything about you." I put on my serious face for a moment. "The only way to do this is to play the dreaded '20 Questions Game'." Then I wink and she giggles and this is perfect. Her little nose crinkles and her eyes sparkle, her lips pull up at the corners and it's all I can do to not kiss her breathless. That can wait until later.

"Ok, I'll go first and ask the most important question of all… What's your favorite color?" She laughs and it's amazing to watch. Her head tips back her lips part and form an O shape, and she wraps her arms around her stomach. I'm mesmerized. She tilts her head back towards me and the mirth is clear in her eyes as she answers,

"Red. What's yours?"

I give her my answer and we banter back and forth for a short while. I learn that her favorite food is the same as mine, pasta, and that we both have a secret love for country music. Jane's first and only pet was a chocolate brown Dachshund named Lolly, and she was so heart broken when the little sausage dog died that she's never owned another one. We pause the game while I go and refresh our drinks, but when I return, instead of picking up where we left off, Jane has a better suggestion.

"Why don't we mix things up? Instead of answering questions, why don't we try to guess the answers? Keeps the game fresh." She sends a playful wink my way and it does wickedly sinful things to my dick.

I laugh a little and agree to play along, although I'm a little nervous I might accidently offend her if I don't guess my answers right. Girls can be funny like that sometimes.

"Ok, well you went first last time so I'll go first this time." She has the most adorably excited look on her face and the alcohol has given her cheeks a lovely rosy glow.

"Alright let's see, hmm… oh ok here's a good one. What's my favorite movie?" I sit back, cross my arms and get a smug look on my face, because no one would ever guess this one.

She cups her chin with her porcelain white hand and taps her black polished finger against her ruby lips and emits the sexiest humming sound I've ever heard. A look of triumph flashes in her eyes and she states confidently and proudly, "The Lion King."

My jaw drops and I'm flabbergasted, seriously. I'm also a little embarrassed. What self-respecting 24-year-old's favorite movie is a Disney film? My cheeks are almost as red as her dress and I'm back to feeling nerdy and not the least bit smooth.

"That was a lucky guess," I say petulantly and she giggles as I admit to her being right.

"What is my favorite book?"

Crap. That's a hard one. Think man think! What do you know about her? First pets and favorite colors aren't going help me now. I take a thoughtful sip of my drink to buy more time, but the longer I think the more my mind goes blank, and I start to panic. "Is it… The Hobbit?" I cringe at my stupidity. I blurted out the first thing that came in to my head.

Luckily, she laughs but unfortunately, she's shaking her head, "No, it's Misery but I did enjoy The Hobbit." Her smile is soft and warm, and again I'm fighting the urge to kiss her.

The game continues and I manage to guess her favorite childhood toy and cartoon, but she's like some sort of psychic-brain-ninja and she guesses all of my questions right. As the night's gone on, we've moved closer and closer together, we're so close now every time I exhale her bangs flutter slightly, which tickles my cheek. She smells amazing. I want to wrap myself in her and live in her flowery scent.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice nearly everyone's left and I check the time - it's after 1! We've been sitting in our own little world for hours and I can honestly say it's the most fun I've had with a girl that didn't involve being naked in a long while.

I run my fingers gently over the back of her hands, and she flips them over so I can trace her palms and then link our fingers together. Her smile is lovely and I'm positive mine matches. The atmosphere shifts suddenly and I can practically taste our desire in the air.

"Want to get out of here Jane?"

I'm not nervous at all. I can see in her eyes that she wants me and I feel it in the little pulse beats in her fingertips that she knows this is special too. She nods her head slightly and I have to kiss her - it's a physical ache and if I don't do it now, I'll regret it forever.

Jane's lips are warm and soft and silky smooth and perfect. I open my mouth slightly and press the tip of my tongue gently against her lower lip. She moans, and it travels all the way through my body, setting every single one of my nerve endings into frenzy. Her lips part slightly, and I tilt my head so my top lip slips in between hers. I nibble and suck on her bottom lip softly and she grips my thighs a little harder. Her breathes are coming in little pants and she tastes like mints, vodka, and tingly citrus. I want her so bad.

I break the kiss. I'm too far in and if I don't get her out of here, I'm going to make a fool out of myself and a spectacle out of her. I take her hand in mine and pull her up off the couch, tucking her into my side. We float to the elevators on needy thoughts and lustful intentions; the ride down to the lobby is anything but innocent and I bet the security guys are getting a good show. My hands are cupping her face, holding those delicious lips against mine, and her hands are gripping my waist so hard like she's frightened to let go. I have her pinned against the back wall and we're pressed so close we might just morph in to one person.

We manage to control ourselves in the taxi, but just barely - she's running her fingers up and down my thigh and I'm caressing her neck, dreaming of how good she's going to taste. And then, we're at her apartment, and in my haste to get her upstairs and out of that dress, I throw a ridiculous amount of money at the driver and practically carry her to the front door. I've lost all of my gentlemanly charm and I'm reaching caveman mode. I need her.

After she slams her front door closed, I slam her against it and my lips are back on hers. I want to own her. I devour her mouth until her lips are swollen and she's panting for air, and then I move on to her neck, after biting her jaw with just a little bit more bite than is playful. I'm a man possessed and I need to make her feel like I do, which is completely out of control. I'm kissing, licking, and nibbling her neck while she pushes against my chest to guide me towards her bedroom. After a few bumps in to the walls and stubbed toes on furniture, we make it to her room, and not once have we stopped touching and kissing.

Her fingers fumble over my buttons and my large hands bunch her dress up over her curvy hips and around her tiny waist.

I need this off her. I'm desperate to see this girl. "Jane, please I need you naked."

She whimpers at my words and complies with my request by lifting her arms above her head and I pull her dress off. I swear my hearing goes and my heart stops, she is that beautiful. She's not wearing a bra, her skin is flushed, and her nipples are pebbled, rosy and begging for my lips. My eyes run down the creamy smooth expanse of her stomach to her panties, black lace French knickers.

"Jesus you are stunning. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen I swear."

I reach for her again, but she beats me to it and climbs my body like some kind of horny spider monkey. I'd chuckle at her eagerness if she wasn't rubbing her chest against mine and nibbling on my ear lobe. My hands cup her ass and I press her hot core against my hardness. It feels so good my knees almost give out and I nearly drop her. I walk us towards the bed where I gently lay her on it.

"Take off those panties Jane."

I watch her excitedly as she hooks her thumbs in to the waist band, swallowing reflexively as she lifts her hips, and I just about have an aneurism as she slides them down her legs, kicking her panties away so they land somewhere behind me. I slowly rake my eyes back up her body, taking in all of her smooth, soft skin, and thinking of all the ways I can worship her. She looks so good I can hardly decide where to start.

I lock my eyes with hers and she giggles. I love that sound.

"You're a little over dressed Riley." Jane's right, she only managed to get the top three buttons of my shirt undone.

I smirk at her and reach up to finish what she started. Her eyes flash with want and she follows my fingers as I finish with the buttons, and then pull the shirt from my body, tossing it over my shoulder. As I unbuckle my belt and kick off my shoes, Jane bites her lip and rubs her legs together for friction.

"Not so fast, gorgeous. Keep those legs apart; I want to be the sole reason for your pleasure. Have a little patience and I swear I'll make you feel so good."

Her head rolls to the side and she lets out a throaty moan before spreading her legs and propping herself up on her elbows so she can watch me finish undressing. I'm hypnotized by her; she looks so good, too good. I can't wait to taste her. I pull my trousers and boxers off together and then I'm naked just like her.

I crawl on to the bed and tell her to lie back down. I want to enjoy her. I rub my thumbs in teasing circles up her legs slowly, brushing my lips against the inside of her ankles, knees and then her inner thighs. She's trembling and I love it. I'm lying on my front, feet dangling off the bottom of her bed, propped up on my elbows so I can see her reaction and I move my thumbs from her thighs to her sex. I run them over her bare lips slowly with the tiniest amount of pressure, her chest is heaving as she pants and moans. I'm in heaven and I can't help grinding against the bed a little at the noises she's making. I add more pressure and spread my thumbs apart more, teasing her and opening her to me at the same time. She's so pink, like grapefruit, and I bet she tastes just as sweet. I can't take it anymore and I lean forward and flick the tip of my tongue against her tiny bundle of nerves.

Jane won't let me stop there - she fists both her hands in my hair and holds me against her, and I'm not objecting too much, because she tastes amazing. I run my tongue over her again and again while she grinds against my mouth, using my hair as leverage. Words tumble from her lips, repeatedly so I move my hands, one keeping her open to me and the other sliding two fingers in to her hot core. I can feel her clenching against my fingers, so I stroke, curling my fingers up, while I suck her clit gently between my lips.

Jane's a screamer. She cums hard and fast and I nearly drown, but it's so good. Not going to lie - if I get to choose how I die that'd be it, drowning in Jane.

My face is a mess and there's a massive grin on my face. I kiss my way up her body, stopping to nuzzle my nose against her left nipple. I hold most of my weight off her and whisper into her ear, "Jane, are you there sweet girl?"

She giggles at my words and because my breath tickles her ear. "Just about. Jesus that was – just – wow."

I chuckle at her adorable rambling and pepper her neck and cheek with kisses. Jane turns her face towards me, and we kiss. It's slow and tender, and it makes me need her so much more. I'm lying between her open legs, so every breath she takes makes her nipples graze across my chest and my dick is pressed against her wetness. I'm so hard. I grind against her, almost mindless in my desperation. Her hands are pressed against my chest and her fingers are curling against me, which hurts a little but I don't want her to stop.

"Let me in Jane. I need to be in you so bad. I'm going crazy." My words are said against her lips as I can't bring myself to put any distance between us, and, thankfully, she pants her consent back against my mouth.

I groan in relief and move my hips back so I can slip in to her. She's so wet and ready for me. Jesus she is so tight. I need a minute to get my bearings back before I embarrass myself and this is over too quickly. I press her in to the bed, pinning her with my hips so she can't move, I pant against her open mouth, "Just give me a second baby, oh god you feel so fucking good."

She whines and moans at my words, and the need takes over; I pull my hips back to rock into her. I move my arms so they're supporting her back, pressing her chest further into me, and I grip her shoulders to give me more leverage. Jane's arms are around my waist and her hands are squeezing my ass. I'll have little finger print bruises tomorrow and I love it. Her legs are resting over the back of my thighs, and her feet are pressed in to my calves so she can rock back against me.

Our foreheads are resting against each other and our lips are open and brushing together - it's the most intimate experience of my life. I've never been this close to someone. It's feels euphoric. Every inhale and exhale is shared, our sweat-slicked bodies are sliding together, and it's less thrusting and more rhythmic grinding and hard rocking. My eyes are open, because I don't want to miss a moment of this. She must feel me staring, because she opens hers too and they're so blue. Electric shocks run through my system and I'm climbing higher and higher, and closer and closer, my breathing is shallow, and her name falls from my lips like a prayer.

"Let go, Riley. Please, I want it."

And at her sweet words, I'm cumming. Hard. Harder than I've ever came in my life. I lose all feeling in my fingers and toes, my entire body stiffens up and my jaw clamps around hers as a strangled cry erupts from my throat. I see stars, galaxies and God. And I see Jane.

I wake to the smell of bacon - fuck yeah, no missing memory and no pounding head. I can't remember the last time that happened. I kinda like it.

I stretch, arms up and legs extended like a cat. I feel great. Sitting up, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and look around for my boxers but I can't see them, or the rest of my clothes for that matter. Slightly puzzled, I follow my nose out in to the open plan flat and in to the kitchenette. And there she is, Jane, and still as stunning now as she was last night. I momentarily forget how to breathe.

She's wearing my shirt from last night, her hair is all scrunched and ruffled on one side and completely flattened on the other, she has slight mascara smudges under eyes and her lips are still stained a little from her red lipstick - but she is still undeniably the most beautiful women I have ever laid eyes on. I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist.

"Morning, sugar. Damn you look good enough to eat in my shirt." I put truth to my statement by nibbling on her neck a little. Jane giggles and blushes, like I didn't see her in the most wicked way last night, and it melts me. Her blush deepens when she notices my lack of clothing.

"Yeah I couldn't seem to find my clothes, not that I'm complaining. You look way too good in my shirt."

"I put your other stuff in the washing machine but your shirt smelled so good I just had to wear it." She's blushing after her confession and biting her lip nervously.

I squeeze her closer and kiss her cheek, "Don't be embarrassed darling. I love that you think I smell good. You can keep it on one condition, I need you to send me nightly pictures of you in it." I give her a playful wink and the smile that graces her face makes my heart jump excitedly. Jane's changed my life; never again will I be able to look at other women without thinking of her. I want her, this, for a long time. I've finally found someone I can see spending my life with, maybe I'm growing up. Mum will be so proud.

"I don't suppose you have something I can put on? Pants at least, it's gettin' kinda cold in here and well, the big guy's getting embarrassed."

She laughs at that, sharp, loud, and short. I hope to always make her laugh like that. Jane points me in the direction of her bedroom and tells me to look in the bottom draw of her vanity dresser, that's where she keeps her boy clothes. I must get a really puzzled look on my face because she goes on to explain that when she's on her period, gross, she feels comfier in baggy clothes and so she has a small stock of boy's clothes for the occasion. Girls are weird. I take the glass of juice Jane hands me and down it in 2 large gulps as I head back in to her bedroom.

"What kind of juice is this babe?" I call out behind me as I open the draws.

"Passion fruit. I made it myself," she confirms but I barely hear her as I'm too busy staring at her collection of boys clothes.

I find two t-shirts, five pairs of boxers and some pajama pants. And they all look familiar. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing on end so much I can practically feel them pulling out of my follicles and fear is settling in my stomach hot and heavy.

I think I might be sick.

Okay, so the grey t-shirt and boxers are generic, she could have gotten them from any Primark in the city…but the SpongeBob pajama pants and the Henley t-shirt, both of which have disappeared from my flat recently, are hard to find. I ordered mine online from America.

My brain doesn't seem to want to process this. My head's all fuzzy, as is my hearing, but my vision seems to have sharpened and my eyes are darting around the room like a frightened bunny. Did she take these from my flat? But how? Last night was the first night I'd met Jane. Or was it? Her face did look familiar, but then we work in the same building so maybe we had shared the elevator a few times and I'd been too stressed to notice her.

My thoughts are skipping and circling around each other, and I stumble back and sit on the bed heavily. Maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions; she could have easily ordered these online like I did. I'm not sure why she would spend so much money on lounge clothes but it's possible. I'm desperately trying to come up with a rational explanation but even in my highly confused state I'm finding my tenuous explanation un-fucking-likely. I need answers.

I pull on Jane's – my? – clothes and stumble back out in to her flat. My legs don't seem to want to carry me and the whole place is tilting slightly to the left. I come to a halt in the middle of her living room and struggle to find the words to frame my questions.

She must feel the tension because she turns away from what I'm assuming is pancake batter and blinks up at me. There is absolutely no expression on her face at all and I'm struggling to reconcile her with the giggling girl I walked away from literally minutes ago. I flap my mouth open a couple of times but no sound comes out. Jane laughs at my flustered lip flapping but instead of the sound making my soul feel warm, it freezes it cold.

"Is there a problem, Riley?" She has her hip cocked and she rests one of those dainty hands on it while giggling. Is she nervous? Under any other circumstances she would have looked adorable but right now, after my whole world has shifted slightly, she looks unhinged.

"Did you – are these – where did you get these clothes?"

I'm actually quite frightened. I don't think I've ever been truly afraid before but I feel it now. Jane narrows her eyes and purses her lips, her head is cocked to the side and I feel like prey. She studies me closely, like she's trying to figure me out. There's nothing to figure out, I'm just a guy who liked a girl who is now extremely frightened.

She's still staring with that cold look on her face and just as I can't take the tension a bright smile spreads across her face and she nervously rambles out, "EBay, aren't they great? The pancakes will be ready soon, have a seat."

And she turns back to the kitchen with that eerie blank expression on her face. I practically fall on to the couch as my knees buckle. She's lying. I can see it in her eyes. I'm really panicking now, my breaths are coming in short and sharp and I'm on the verge of hyperventilating when the TV catches my eye.

It's the lunch time headlines and they're showing Victoria and Alice's building on fire again, shocks of panic and adrenaline zip through my body as I see that flaming building.

I turn on the sound. "Police have today confirmed that the recent fires in Soho over the last 6 months are connected and that all fires were started deliberately. The police have confirmed that the arsonist is one person working alone but have no leads on a suspect at this time. The Chief Inspector went on to confirm that they can find no correlating pattern that links each building other than the accelerant that is used to start the fires."

I'm in complete shock as burning building after burning building flashes on to the TV and I recognize them all. They're all the buildings of my weekend hook ups over the last 6 months, all 6 town houses and 2 high-rises almost completely burnt out mere hours after I left. A photograph of Victoria flashes up - she's standing next to a younger girl, who is confirmed as her sister by the reporter, and she looks so happy and carefree.

Before my mind can flash to her lying in a hospital bed, the reporter confirms my worst fears. "The latest victim, Victoria Adams age 21, died in the early hours of yesterday morning from excessive burn wounds…" the story continues but I don't hear any more as, while I was engrossed in the news report, Jane has walked up behind me.

"Don't feel sorry for her Riley, she deserved everything she got. She was a dirty slut and not worth your time." Jane's tone is void of any emotion, not even anger. It's like an icy cold bucket of water has been thrown over me and my entire body seizes up in fear.

Terror has locked my joints and I get to my feet in slow jerky movements and turn to face her.

"Did you do this Jane?" I want her to laugh in my face, or get angry that I'm accusing her of something so horrible, but she just stares at me with those cold empty eyes.

"They needed to be punished Riley. You're mine and they took you from me. People who steal need to be punished." Jane's tone is so matter-of-fact she could be talking about the weather and not about murdering people.

I've never heard anything so creepy in my entire life. My hearing and vision fade in and out from shock. I can feel the blood pumping through my body fast and hard, and I'm starting to feel dizzy. I stumble back in to the coffee table and the vase that was filled with flowers goes tumbling to the floor. My eyes automatically dart to the mess and I realize that the flowers are the same ones Mrs. Mallory has been getting delivered.

No, not Mrs Mallory. Me. These have been turning up on my doorstep for 6 months, oh god I think I might be sick.

"Did you send me flowers Jane?" Her eyes lights up and a maniacal grin splits her face.

"Did you like them? I wasn't sure you were getting them because you kept going home with those other girls and I thought surely if you were understanding them you wouldn't still be ignoring me for those other girls, but then I came to the conclusion that you must want me to punish them, you know, because they're skanks." She shrugs her dainty shoulders at the end of her speech and she's slightly out of breath from gushing it all out. Not one word made any sense to me.

I need to be careful.

I lick my lips before I speak, "I don't understand Jane. What was I supposed to understand about the flowers?"

Her lips pull down in to a frown and her brow furrows in confusion. Oh no, I've upset her. Fear squeezes my lungs.

"Well the purple Agapanthis were to express that you had a secret love, the white Primrose was to let you know that I can't live without you and the red Begonia was to let you know that you sleeping around was upsetting me. You really didn't understand?" She looks so lost and confused for a moment but then her expression hardens and she fixes her glare on me. "So you didn't want me to punish those girls, you actually liked them?! You wanted to fuck them, didn't you?" Jane's small hands have curled in to claws and her lip is turned up in a snarl - she practically growled at me.

My fight or flight instinct has kicked in and I make a dash for the door, only my legs won't work, and I just crash against the wall and slide down it, landing hard on my ass. What the fuck? My thoughts are slow and sluggish much like my movements. Is this shock? Jane walks towards me slowly and I try and crawl towards the door.

I need to get out of here.

"You're probably wondering why you're not feeling so good. Well, I was worried that you would want to go home and change, and then your idiotic brother would convince you to go out instead of coming back to me. I didn't know how else to keep you here, so I may have slipped some tranquilizers in to your juice." Jane reaches the door before me and turns the lock while sliding the chain in to place. She turns and smiles down at me, "Just relax, love. You'll have a nice little nap and when you wake up we can have a really long chat and get to know each other more. I can't wait for you to tell me why you had that cast on your arm on your 5th birthday, that photo of you blowing out your candles is so cute!"

I'm lying on my stomach on her cold hardwood floors, desperately trying to keep my eyes open but it's a losing battle. My eyes finally close and I slip in to unconsciousness.

My head is pounding and my thoughts are fuzzy. I don't have much feeling in my hands or feet and my shoulders are throbbing in pain. I try and open my eyes and after a lot of effort I manage to get them open enough to see my surroundings.

It's bright with artificial light, and it stings my eyes for a few moments. I have to blink away tears before I can really take in what I'm seeing. I'm still in Jane's room, but I'm noticing little details that I hadn't before, like some of the pictures in the massive picture collage she has hanging next to her bed are of me, and not just recent ones. There's some from my childhood mixed in with shots of me walking down the street or changing in my bedroom. Revulsion and fear causes me to shiver, and my skin to break out in goose bumps.

I groan in pain and try to roll over on to my side but I can't. She's handcuffed me to the bed. My hands are cuffed together by actual handcuffs that are way too tight around my wrists and they've been pulled above my head so the chain of the cuffs threads through the head board. That explains why my shoulders hurt so much and why I can't really feel my hands.

I glance down at my legs, and they're spread so my feet are pointing at each corner of the bed – again, there are handcuffs on each of my ankles, which are then cuffed to the foot board. There's also a thick leather band running over my stomach and back under the mattress holding my waist tight to the bed.

I'm trapped. I don't even know how she managed to get me in here from the hallway.

Panic floods my system as I struggle as hard as I can against the restraints, the metal handcuffs clanging against the metal structure of the bed is loud and Jane comes running in. I freeze in fear.

"You're awake," she smiles and seems excited. She's actually psychotic. Please, God, let me get out alive. I'm praying and begging for my life, tears of fear and frustration are leaking from my eyes. I watch apprehensively as she sits down gently next to me on the bed and strokes away my tears.

"Are you hungry Riley? You must be because you didn't get your breakfast and it's way passed tea time. I made soup for you. I hope you like tomato."

I stare up at her incredulously - she can't really be this deranged.

"Please Jane, just let me go. I won't tell anyone what's happened, I swear, and I'll come back, I promise. We'll be together but you have to untie me."

I'm begging, I'd be on my knees if I could get there. I'm staring in to her eyes and trying to find an ounce of humanity or compassion - hell I'd settle for fuckin' sanity - but there's nothing. Just emptiness.

Jane sighs at my words and I know they haven't done me any good. My only hope is that I can yell loud enough for her neighbors to hear. So I yell. I take a deep breath and fill my lungs and I scream for help louder and harder than I've ever screamed before, for about half a second because Jane presses a pillow against my face and I need all of the air left in my lungs to breath. I can feel her sitting on my chest as she presses the pillow harder against me face. I try and thrash and buck her off but I can't move much with these restraints.

I get light headed and my moves are less forceful, my lungs are fighting for breath and my heart is beating hard and loud in my ears. I lose consciousness just as she pulls the pillow from my face.

Something feels good. Why do I hurt though? Fuck, I hope the good feeling doesn't stop.

I'm struggling to wake up and find out what feels so good. There's an annoying squeak in the background, which helps to pull me further in to the Land of Awake. I groan in pleasure and open my eyes but what I see makes me lose the happy feeling immediately and what felt good now feels so wrong.

Jane is sitting on my lap - but not just my lap, she's sliding up and down my cock. And she's naked. She's been fucking me while I was unconscious. I turn my head to the side so the vomit coming up my throat doesn't drown me. It slips out of the side of my mouth and soaks in to the bed and Jane doesn't stop.

Her hands are on my chest and she's alternating between bouncing up and down to grinding in to me. My body's reaction is automatic but my mind can't handle what she's doing and I start sobbing.

"Stop, Jane, please. I can't, just stop." I'm crying and pleading, my eyes are screwed shut against this perversion but she keeps fucking me.

She's moaning and calling my name and telling me she loves me. I throw up again. Jane leans back and cups my balls, and although my body registers that it feels good my skin feels like it wants to crawl off my body.

"Cum for me Riley, we can have a family."

My body reacts the way it should but my mind shuts down as I cum. I can feel the pleasure pump out of me and the tears spilling from my eyes. My stomach cramps and heaves but I don't register any of it - I just stare out at nothing. Jane falls on top of me to catch her breath. She rains little kisses over my chest and it burns my skin. I hate her.

Once she cleans us both up, she curls up next to me and uses my chest as a pillow. Jane falls asleep not too long after, but I stare at the ceiling trying not to think of what just happened.

I can't even begin to think of a way out of this. I'm just trying not to fall in to a panic attack. Eventually exhaustion takes over and I drift off, terrified of what I'll wake up to.

I don't know how long I've been here; Jane keeps me drugged, so I never know if I've been asleep for days, hours or minutes. My thoughts are slow and sluggish and there's a constant nausea in the pit of my stomach. Jane had to change my ankle restraints to rope after I broke my ankle trying to get her off me. It isn't healing very well.

I woke up to Jane sitting in a chair beside the bed holding a book to her chest and staring unblinkingly at me.

"I thought I'd read to you, babe. I picked this up from your Mothers when I got your fire truck." She shows me the front of the book and it's Peter Pan, my favorite book as a child. At the mention of my Mum, a conversation we had flashes in my mind.

"I think I've had a break-in Riley." Worry griped me at the thought of my Mum being alone and vulnerable.

"What do you mean? Have you called the police?" It'd be just like her to call me instead of them.

"Yeah I did but I feel a bit silly now."

"Mum you shouldn't feel silly, tell me what happened." I said a little exasperated. Only my Mum would feel silly for calling the police.

"Well I was out shopping with Aunty Esme and when I got back I went straight in to the kitchen and noticed some glass on the floor and when I looked up one of the glass window panes in the door had been broken, but the door was still locked. I can't tell if anything's been stolen."

I frown a little, "Ok Mum I'll be over in 30 minutes. Make sure you keep your doors locked and check it is actually the police before you let them in."

I nearly throw up again at the thought of Jane being in my Mum's house, but I don't really have that much in my stomach so I just gag a little. Jane doesn't notice and just starts to read. I've realized that Jane only sees what she wants to see. I haven't quite figured out how that can help me yet.

She reads for what seems like hours. I don't really hear her but all of a sudden, I notice she's stopped. I turn my head to look at her and she's asleep. If I didn't know better, I'd say she looked like an angel. Adrenaline courses through my body as my brain catches up to the situation - I can escape!

I calm my breathing and pull on my handcuffs. The metal bites in to my skin and cuts my flesh making me bleed. I don't pause though; the blood can only help me. I turn my head and bite down on my pillow so I don't make any noise, these cuffs are really tight and I'm afraid I'm gonna have to break my thumb to slip them. Taking a deep breath and clamping my jaw around the pillow I pull and pull and pull and then snap, my thumb is broken but I'm free.

Pain radiates up and down my arm and my vision swims - I will not pass out! Once the dizziness has subsided, I sit up slowly and untie my ankles, never taking my eyes off Jane. When I'm free, I carefully and oh-so-fucking-slowly slide up and out of the restraint around my waist.

I'm standing upright next to the bed, panting a little from the effort and a little from the pain that's flooding my body and I try to think of the best way to get to the front door. I can't put any pressure on my broken ankle so I might have to crawl, but will that be too slow? If I make a mad dash-hop for the door she'll wake up for sure. I drop to my knees carefully, again not taking my eyes off her and I back out of the room on my hands and knees.

I'm halfway through the living room and I can see the door. I can taste freedom and tears of relief are flowing from my eyes. I'm giddy with excitement and that was a mistake - I'm rushing too much and I bump in to the display case against the dining room wall. I watch as a picture frame falls in slow motion to the floor and shatters in to tiny pieces, the noise is so loud I fear it might rupture my eardrums.

There's no way she didn't hear that so I don't hesitate - I jump up and hop-run towards the front door. I hear Jane scream in frustration and her heavy footfalls as she runs towards me. I'm almost at the door when I feel her weight crash in to my back, under any other circumstances I'd have been able to keep my balance but I have a broken ankle and I'm still feeling the effects of the drugs she's been giving me and I fall head first against the door.

JPOV

I hit Riley's back hard and he pitches forward in to the door - there's a sickening crunch and then we're lying in a heap in front of my door. I scramble out from under him and roll him over so I can check he's ok. His eyes are open but empty and there's blood trickling from his nose, his head is bent at a really weird angle. Oh god no! I shake him and scream his name, but of course, he doesn't answer.

What have I done? I let out a cry of anguish. It bubbles up from my chest where I can feel my heart splintering in to tiny shards of hurt. Oh my Riley, no please I'm sorry. I hold his body close and sob, letting my tears soak in to his feather soft hair. I can't live without you, please don't leave me.

I cry for hours. I cry until I have nothing left in me and then, after closing his gorgeous eyes and kissing his pillow soft lips one last time, I walk back in to my bedroom. I know exactly where it is, where my daddy left it for me, in the top drawer of my right bedside table. It's black and has a dull shine and the metal is as cold as Riley was by the time I left him.

I undress and re-dress in to his shirt - it still smells like him - and I take the teddy bear I took from his Mother's out from under the bed. I hold it close.

"Don't worry, Teddy, we'll see him soon."

I place the gun in my mouth and pull the trigger.