Did you- did you call me?
Floating, sick, falling, sleeping… Something was wrong. He was sitting up, in darkness. Last he remembered, he'd been doing a photo shoot… Impromptu… Thongrrrl… His body was slowly coming back to him. His heart raced. What was this girl talking about? Rambling on about valleys of dolls and showing him a small container her dad gave her. Gave her? No, she took it. Took it and gave it to him. That's what left him disoriented and strapped to a chair. Her voice was taunting.
Now it's time to wake up.
He was dizzy; confused. A slow fear rested in his gut. Something wasn't right. Everything was fuzzy… She'd been dancing… He remembered tiramisu… No, first, they'd been drinking. Shit. He hadn't had that much, though, had he?
What was she talking about? It didn't seem right… The sweet little fourteen-year old was gone. She was harder now; changed. Hayley wasn't the Hayley he'd had in mind, she wasn't even the same Hayley from earlier, when he'd wiped cake off her lips and bought her a shirt. He wanted to vomit, he wanted to break free of his bonds and run and find out what was happening. His heartbeat quickened further as she nattered on. He thought his chest would explode.
This isn't funny.
He growled to be let go, and she repeated patience! patience! patience!… She started talking about killers and evidence. Ohh, if only she hadn't tied him so well… What the hell did she spray in his mouth? This crazy fucking girl had plotted everything so perfectly. She even knew his neighbours weren't at home. She explained her plan to him, like the bad guy in the James Bond movie. James Bond triumphed, always… Did that mean he would, too?
By the way, I fucking hate Goldfrapp.
I… wanted to impress you. He tried to grin; terrified. Why was he so scared? She was just a girl... A girl with a spray bottle.
Torture?
Her face was so close; her lips… Ohhh… He wanted to break free now, but it wasn't just for freedom this time.
This… is nothing.
He could feel her breath on his face. She'd had something to eat after the screwdrivers; it smelled like she'd brushed her teeth, too. He'd always liked the scent of mint. He wondered if she brought a toothbrush or used his. He wanted to bite his lip, to flirt, to ask her to come just that much closer...
But he needn't ask. Her hands rested on his thighs, he was sure she could feel the heat from his groin, but her fingers stayed delicately just above his knees. His eyes closed and he suppressed a surprised moan – the last thing he wanted to do was frighten her off. He'd said she acted older than her age, and this certainly proved it. No child—no, no teenager should be able to kiss like this. He wondered if it came naturally to her. She pressed deeper, and he relaxed. Maybe this was all she wanted – this was going to be his torture. Fingers moved, slowly, inching, dancing up his thighs. Please, let this be the torture. Give me blue balls all day, I don't care, I'll love it, strip naked and don't touch me, please please please this is the perfect torture…
A moan slipped out; as if in reply, her hands pressed a little harder on his flesh, so much closer now… He wanted to take her in his arms and show her the things she shouldn't know until her wedding night.
Pausing, she released him from the kiss, drew in a breath. Their eyes opened and made contact. Unable to help himself, he grinned, goofy, like a young boy on his first big date. A taste of heaven. She smiled back, stopped her hands where they were.
Do you like that? A whisper, for only him to hear. Her lips had hardy moved; her eyes begged to know his answer.
His smile faded as his breath caught in his throat. He made no reply.
She knelt, sort of reminiscent of earlier when he'd kissed her feet in the parking lot; he liked how she looked down there. She bit her lip and looked up at him, her dark eyes curious.
His own eyes met the ceiling and he let out a choked laugh. Oh, shit…Was this worth it? She was still a girl,but... No one would know, no one except them, she'd even said he (and of course, she) could scream and no one would hear. Just the thought made him harder. He wondered if she noticed, she was so, so, so goddamn close...
She stood, ignoring his cursing and obvious answer, and her hands made contact with his waist. Patience, Jeff. You'll get it, alright. Her tone was suddenly dead cold—it wasn't a blowjob he was going to be receiving, that was certain. What kind of joke was this? The fear returned in a jolt. Pushing his body, she let go and his chair spun round. Unsure, he stared up at her; shook his head as he went round in place. The sick feeling accompanied the fear.