And boy was I glad. His father did him no justice. He seemed to be about 18 or 19 years old. He wasn't sculpted or anything—at least from what I could tell, he was fully clothed after all—but he did look like he was involved in sports. He had nice big arms—not too big, just the right size—and a white tee that hugged him in all the right places if you know what I mean. He looked like he had some Italian blood in him with his thick dark hair and eyebrows. His hair was spiked oh-so-natural and he had a trimmed stubble across his chin. He was a major hotté and had the most amazing smile I had ever seen. I just about lost my breath just looking at him.

"Yeah," he said looking me up and down. Then he leaned against the door, putting his arm along the edge.

"Oh, hi, my name is Suze Simon. I wanted to talk to you. Daniel right?"

He looked at me intently. "Um, yeah." Then he took down his arm and motioned for me to come in.

I walked into the huge entryway that was filled with paintings. It was very overwhelming, with all the colors and shapes. One minute I'm standing in front of a huge house that seems to lack any real color and the next I walk in and a million different shades and tints jump out at me. I stood in awe as Daniel walked over to a punch bowl and poured a glass. "Punch?" he asked knocking me down to earth.

"Um," I said, dazed. "Sure."

He smiled, "Here you go," and handed me the glass when he walked back over.

I took a sip. "It tastes. . ." I said searching for the word. "Funky." Not my best, but it would do.

He smiled again, making me almost swoon to the floor. Or maybe I was just dehydrated. "Yeah, they put all kinds of stuff in there. You like the paintings huh?"

"Yeah," I said taking another look at them. "They're amazing."

He looked at me. "Something you have in common."

Oh my god. I cannot believe he just said that to me. I blushed and looked away towards the paintings again.

"Well," I said changing the subject. "I came here to talk to you about your father."

He looked surprised. "Come sit down," he said. "Make yourself at home."

I walked over to the sofa and sat down. He followed close behind and sat beside me.

"What about my father?" he asked.

"Well, he doesn't want you to worry about him and wants you to know that he is doing ok."

"Interesting," he said. I was just about to hand him the piece of paper his dad gave me when someone walked in the room.

"Hey," Daniel said putting his hand out to give the person a hi-five. "What's up?"

"Nothin', just been playin' NFL Blitz—" he stopped short. "Ooh who's this?"

"Hey," I said waving to him. "I'm Suze."

He sat down. "Hower you Suze?"

"I'm fine. How are you?"

"I'm good. Likin' Carmel a lot."

"Oh," I said. "You're new to Carmel?"

"Yeah, I'm just visiting from Nevada."

"He used to live in my old neighborhood before he moved to Nevada," said Daniel.

"Oh," I said, taking another sip of the punch. "Cool." I tried not to say too much so the guy would leave and we could finish talking. I mean, I couldn't exactly talk to Daniel about his dead father with his "old friend" in the room. But I was in no hurry. I didn't want to look suspicious or make Daniel uncomfortable, so I tried to act naturally. "You ever been there?"

"Once or twice," Daniel said. "It's pretty nice."

"Well, I gotta go," his friend said, giving Daniel a look then walking out the door. I'm not sure what about, but there was something.

"So," he said, putting his hand on my thigh. "Where were we?"

"Um," I said straightening up. "We were talking about your dad."

"Oh," he said. "What about him?"

"Well, he just doesn't want you to worry about him," I said pretty uncomfortably. He had started moving his hand up and down my thigh.

"You sure I haven't seen you before?"

"Um, I don't think so,"

"I swear I've seen you," he said. He lifted his hand and moved my hair from my face and then started playing with it. "What are you doing today? Anything?"

"Yeah," I said. "Actually I'm pretty busy today," I said. What was I talking about? I forgot for a second why I was here.

"Well, you're not busy right now right?" he asked me making me to look him in the eyes.

"Well," I said, having trouble thinking. "I guess."

"Good," he said and took his hand from my hair to my waist. "What do you want to do?" And all of a sudden he was leaning over me running his hand up my side while his other moved up my thigh to the beginning of my skirt.

Then all of a sudden, he started to creep under my shirt so I tried to push his hand away. "Look, I'm sorry. You're nice and everything. . ."

But he cut me off saying, "Ok come on, you know you wanna." Caressing dangerously close to my chest, he leaned in and tried to kiss me.

But when I pushed him off, he just kissed my neck and chest and started moving his hands all over me. I was kind of shocked and sat their frozen. What was with this guy? I tried to get him off of me, but I was having trouble moving. I couldn't figure out why. He was kind of pining me down with his body, but he was barely trying. I should be able to push him back pretty easily, but for some reason, it just wasn't happening.

Then he tried to kiss me again. Only this time he succeeded. I didn't exactly let him, but he did it anyway. Then again, I did kind of let him. When he first touched my lips I didn't of course, but he was so hell bent on kissing me I guess I just gave in, and kind of kissed him back. By this time I was leaning on the arm of the couch, so he was leaning on top of me. He pushed me back even further so I was practically lying on the arm, instead of leaning in the corner between it and the back of the couch. It wasn't until he started to creep up my shirt—with both hands—again, that I tried to push him back again. Finally I managed to wriggle out of there and slip out from under him.

But he got up with a flash and grabbed my hand pulling me towards him and pressing up against me. He kissed me again and ran his hands up my back. I hate to admit it, but this guy was a good kisser. An extremely good kisser. I could barely tell what was going on, but I knew that much.

I tried to pull back again. But before I even broke off, he back sank down on the couch and brought me with him and threw me back down pretty hard.

Now I was in an even worse position; I was lying down completely on the couch. I didn't know what I was doing, but I seemed to let him kiss me. I was having trouble processing all the stuff that was happening and I guess it was just natural to let him. It took a lot for me to fight back. It seemed I had to realize over and over again, that I did not want him to be kissing me. That I had to get the heck out of there.

As soon as he started kissing me again, I forgot all over again, and almost kissed him back, let alone didn't fight back. He started up my shirt again. And when it started to ride up, he gently took it in his hand and made it go even higher. When I realized he was trying to take it off I finally fought back again. I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. Why had I let it go this far?

"Get off of me," I said and gave him a good shove. He apparently was caught off guard because he stumbled back just enough for me to slip out of there.

But when I stood up I didn't bolt for the door like I had planned. I guess I stood up too quickly because I felt kind of dazed. I grasped my forehead and almost fell down. I'm not sure if this was lucky or not, but Daniel stood up and steadied me.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck. "Come on," he whispered. "Let's go somewhere more private." He moved his arms up just below my breasts and then dropped his left hand and started to lead me around the couch towards the hallway. I followed, and then suddenly realized that I was trying to leave. I ducked out of his grasp and headed for the door.

But he grabbed me again and pulled me against the wall. Not hard, but definitely not tenderly. I barely even noticed his hands underneath my shirt caressing my stomach until the started to work their way up. I was—I don't know why—concentrating on the all out french he was giving me. I wanted to scream bloody murder. I wanted to run like the wind out of that house. I wanted to punch this guy's lights out. But what did I do? I just stood there. I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. I could barely think, or move for that matter.

Suddenly I felt really cold and almost collapsed. Daniel slowed for a second as if not sure what had happened. But seeing I was fine, engaged in kissing me and pawing at me again. Finally I regained my senses and pushed him off as hard as I could—which for some reason, wasn't very hard—and tried to make it to the door. No such luck. He didn't seem to respond very much to the push, except he didn't seem to like it.

This was all happening so fast. I decided to try yelling at him. "Get off of me!" I screamed at him when I finally managed to get my lips from his. Then I started hitting him over and over again, and pushing him off. Anything I could think of, I was doing it.

But he just fought back harder. He grabbed my waist—very hard, I was sure I was going to have a bruise there later—and pulled me forward towards the hallway again. He was acting different than before. He wasn't kissing me and running his hands all over me. He was shoving me and pulling me and griping my shoulder so hard I thought it would break. This happened in a matter of seconds, and as soon as I realized he wasn't going to play nice anymore I screamed at him again. "Let me go!" I screamed as loud as I could and then turned around, managing to escape from his grasp. He reached out, but I dodged him. Barely, but I did. Then he swiped again and this time caught me. I knew this was it. If I couldn't get away now, then I was in some major trouble. I did the only thing I could think to do. Normally I try not to resort to this because I like to think that I'm tough enough I don't have to. And besides, it's almost cheating. Well, if you haven't guessed I kneed him. Not only that, right after I pushed him as hard as I could to the floor.

I raced for the door and ran down the driveway like a maniac, even though that push took a surprising amount out of me. Thanking everything I could ever thing of, I spotted a car and ran towards it trying to flag it down.

A/N: criticism/praise welcome! R&R Well, that's the end for now. I'll probly do one more chapter, but It's going to be awhile, unless I get like 30 something reviews. I think if I get THAT much demand then I might move it up the priority list. But like I said, as of now, its going to be awhile. I think I might put a poem that relates to this story up though. It's an original, but it does go along with the story. It actually was some of the source of inspiration to write this story. If you want to see it, it's called Unknown person. You can go to my website under poems or onto I might end up putting it on here. Til then, enjoy. Hope you liked my story :)