Darkness Rising
A Once Upon a Time in Mexico story by Merrie
Disclaimer: SJ is not mine, no matter how much I might wish it. Damn.
Characters: SJ, the murdered Yvette St. Martin in flashback form, and her two friends Emily and Susannah.
Author's Note: This takes place before the movie, before SJ was even a CIA agent. Thanks to the wonderful Miss B, for betaing, and gypsy and Halia for the continued support of this fic. You guys rock!! And to all of my wonderful reviewers? Thanks you guys, I'm glad you like this fic!!
Also, remember that SJ is only 27 in this fic, not yet a member of the CIA and not yet the man he ends up as in the movie. For right now he's simply an everyday seemingly normal rich kid who likes to kill people. ;-)
Rating: Hard R for extreme violence, very graphic imagery, naughty thoughts and language, and above all a long smut scene at the end. If you aren't of age, turn back now. Savvy?
Chapter Three: Remembered Engagements
Sands dreamt. He dreamed of a laughing, smiling woman, her body drenched in blood. He dreamt of fire, of murder, of death.
He remembered the girl in his dreams. He remembered meeting Yvette St. Martin in the greasy little Mexican restaurant downtown he had once liked so much. She had approached his table and sat down. She was attracted to him, it was obvious. He remembered not believing that he had actually managed to pick up a girl in a Mexican restaurant. Something about the whole scene seemed unnatural. She had come up and sat at his table without a word, sticking out in the cheap restaurant in her black evening wear. Of course, so did he, but he was a regular, so he was paid no mind.
She sat there, and neither of them said a word. She simply placed her head in a hand propped up on the table and stared at him. All around them the busy sounds of the restaurant attempted to intrude on the silence she radiated. Finally, he was the one to break the silence, "Sands," he said, gesturing to himself with a food-filled fork. He went about his meal; seemingly not even bothering to pay any further attention the beautiful young woman seated mere inches in front of him other than the initial introduction.
The girl had smiled then, leaning even closer to him. "My name's Yvette. I bet you're wondering what I'm doing over here."
"Not really," Sands said after taking a moment to chew and swallow his food. "I noticed you coming over. And I see your two friends sitting there watching us like hawks. My guess is that there was a bet of some kind."
Yvette looked a bit stunned at this, that he was able to read her attentions so accurately, "Yes, actually. You're right. My friends and I," she gestured to two young women across the room at the short bar, who once they saw they had been caught, blushed simultaneously and turned away. Yvette continued, "We've been watching you ever since we came in here. They bet me to come over and talk to you. So Sands, that's your name? Not your first name, I take it?"
"How astute of you," Sands said dryly. He was being a bit of an asshole, but he didn't like being made a spectacle of. Yvette didn't seem to mind his attitude, however so he sighed and went on. "Yes it's my last name," he finally said, putting down his fork to look at her.
"Are you going to tell me your first name? I told you mine," she said, smiling coyly.
"You didn't tell me your last name though, sugarbutt so I guess that makes us even," Sands drawled slowly.
She smiled a bit, "Sugarbutt? Where'd you pick that one up? I've never heard that one before. And my last name's St. Martin by the way," she pronounced it the French way, making it sound almost like San Martan.
"Yvette St. Matin," he said, rolling the syllables over his tongue. He met her eyes and saw that she was waiting for him to fill out the rest of his own name. "No sugar, I think we'll just stick with Sands. It makes me more mysterious that way," he winked at her.
Yvette laughed and shook her head, her white blonde shoulder-length hair swaying slightly. "Fine, Sands then. What do you do for a living, Sands?"
"Mostly I like to fuck with people's minds," he murmured under his breath.
"What did you say? I didn't quite catch that," Yvette asked.
"I said I'm independently wealthy and don't work right now. I did however just finish graduate school and am in the job market," he finished, not bothering to repeat his first words. There was something about the girl that caused a great feeling of mistrust to wash over him. For some reason, he was berating himself for telling the girl that much about him, and that something would have to be done about it. What that something was, he didn't know, but the feeling was there all the same. When he didn't bother to reciprocate the question to Yvette, she answered without being asked.
"I work for the CIA. I know, that sounds pretty exciting when you say it like that, but really all I am is a glorified secretary," she rolled her eyes and let out a short musical laugh. "Excuse me, an executive assistant. There is no such thing as a secretary anymore, is there?"
Sands let out a genuine laugh at this and even sent a tight lipped smile her way. "Let me buy you a drink, Yvette. This place doesn't have much to offer, but I find the tequila and lime is beginning to grow on me."
"The tequila and lime it is then," she said with a smile. She then glanced over her shoulder while he was flagging down a waiter to see that her two friends were once more staring at her and Sands and sent them a look that pretty much said, 'Can you believe this is happening?' She saw her friend Susannah giggle softly into her hand like a schoolgirl and her other friend Emily fan herself dramatically with a cocktail napkin, both of them giving the man across the table from her smouldering looks.
She turned back to the man and watched him silently as he talked to the waiter and ordered their drinks. His shoulder-length dark hair shined in the fluorescent light of the restaurant, and contrasted beautifully with the deep red wine colored silk long sleeve shirt he had on. The shirt was open at the throat, exposing the barest hint of a smooth pale chest that left her imagination reeling. Yvette thought it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Never before had she been so taken with a man in such a way. She longed to run her hands through that long hair, to nibble on his full lips and to ride his lean form furiously until he begged for release. Such thoughts made a horrible blush flame its way across her fair skin. She could feel the warmth of it and knew that it wouldn't look good.
Sands finished ordering the drinks, turned back to her, saw the blush and smirked. There was no doubt in his mind as to the cause of such a blush. Her thoughts were written all over her face. He knew desire and lust when he saw it, and knew that he wouldn't be going home alone tonight. His smirk intensified as he saw her blush grow darker. "Is something wrong, Yvette?" He asked casually.
Yvette rolled her eyes at him, trying to will her blush away. She knew he had probably guessed what was on her mind by his smirk, so she decided to throw caution to the wind and tell her exactly what was on her mind, "I'm imagining the sight of you naked and writhing underneath me, begging for the touch I'm denying you," she said, leaning even further across toward him.
The world stopped. The impossible had happened. Sands was shocked. He felt his mouth open in a bit of a gape, his quick mind failing him when he needed it most. This girl had managed to shock him into silence. He was still speechless when the waiter returned and set their drinks on the table. Yvette sipped at hers delicately as Sands let out a low whistle. "Well golly, that was different. I'm usually the mind-fucker in the conversation, not the other way around."
"Ah, so that is what you said earlier? That you like to fuck with people's minds mostly? I was pretty sure it was, but couldn't be completely sure. As you can tell, I like to fuck with people's minds as well," she looked over him slowly, and Sands was tempted to bear his teeth to see if they stood up to her inspection. "Actually, I just like fucking in general," she said, a naughty smirk of her own crossing her face.
"That can be arranged sugarbutt," Sands said, the shocked look on his face once more replaced by a smirk.
"You know, I think I like that, the sugarbutt. It just seems to fit you somehow," Yvette said, smiling over the rim of her glass.
Sands didn't answer her, but merely tossed back his tequila with a grimace and waved the waiter over again to pay for his meal and the drinks. Once that was accomplished, he turned back to Yvette. "Are you ready to go, sugarbutt?" He asked, his smirk in full force now.
"You bet your ass I am, honeybuns," Yvette said, laughing. She stood up out of the chair and walked back over to where her friends sat at the bar. Sands left a tip and followed her.
Sands nodded to the two young women seated at the bar, both of whom were staring at their friend with a mixture of awe and jealousy. Sands had to fight back a laugh. 'This is rather amusing,' he thought. 'I wonder what I'd do if they started fighting for me?' That image alone was enough to send his face into smirk-mode on its own, but he still managed to keep control of his laughter.
"You lucky bitch, Yvette," one of her two friends said, a sultry looking red-head in an emerald green cocktail dress. "He is a rather fine specimen if I do say so myself," she raked her eyes over Sand's form much more thoroughly than Yvette had, and Sands almost felt the urge to blush under such an onslaught. Almost. "I'm Emily, by the way," she said, holding out a dainty bejeweled hand. Sands grasped it firmly and planted a kiss on her knuckles in a gallant gesture. When he released her hand, she used it to fan herself briskly and looked him squarely in the eye. "If Yvette wasn't such a good friend of mine, I'd knock her down and eat you up with a spoon, dearie," she said with a wink. Sands let out a short laugh, amused by all the attention.
Susannah, Yvette's other friend, a beautiful and kind looking brunette in royal blue wasn't quite as vocal as Emily had been, but the looks she sent Sands' direction weren't all that different. Sands was a bit lighter and more gentle with the kiss he placed on her proffered hand, never taking his eyes from hers as he did it. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sands," she said softly.
"No, the pleasure was entirely mine, Susannah. And it's just Sands," he said, sending her as soft a smile as he could manage.
"Goodnight, ladies," Yvette cut in. "I'm sure the two of you can find your own way home," she said with a laugh. Before she could grab her coat from the back of the barstool she had been sitting in, Sands snatched it away so fast that she hadn't even seen him move, and held it out open from behind her so she could put it on with ease. Emily mumbled what sounded like 'lucky bitch' again, and Yvette allowed Sands to help her put on her coat.
"Don't forget your purse," Susannah said with a direct look towards her friend that Sands didn't fully understand. 'Perhaps she had condoms in it?' Yvette merely nodded and grabbed it.
Once that was accomplished, Sands zipped up his own coat and they made their way out of the restaurant, into Sands' black Jag, which Yvette cooed over, and back to his apartment.
***
"Oh wow, look at the size of this place!" Yvette gushed upon entering his apartment. She immediately set out to look over everything and anything in as little time possible. Sands had been through this process before and simply sat in an overstuffed black leather chair in his living room and let her look. She wandered from room to room, not quite going through his underwear drawers and medicine cabinet, but close. "Hey, look at the size of this tub!" She shouted from the bathroom. "Want to take a bath?" she called out enticingly.
The thought did have its appeal. A nice hot bath in his Jacuzzi with a willing woman could be very enjoyable indeed. "Perhaps later," he called back.
She came out of the living room and sauntered slowly over to him, taking a seat on his lap. She seemed to be totally at ease with herself, and this pleased Sands immensely. He liked a woman who knew what she wanted. And Yvette St. Marin certainly seemed to be that kind of a woman.
Sands decided to make the first move and grabbed Yvette by the back of her head and pulled her down for a searing kiss that after a long moment left the two of them breathless. "Your bedroom's where? I seem to have forgotten," Yvette said a bit dreamily. Sands smiled and scooped her up in his arms and carried her in the direction of his bedroom and laid her on his large bed.
"Roll over," Sands commanded softly. She did as she was bid, and he unzipped the back of her dress all the way and with her help pulled it off of her and threw it over the side of the bed. When this was accomplished, she rolled back over and Sands drank in the sight of her in a lacy black satin bra and panties, her high heels still strapped on to her feet.
"My turn," she whispered. Sands nodded, and allowed her to sit up on the bed. He sat down next to her and let her do what she wished. The first thing she did was to reach out and wipe a stray lock of his dark hair away from his face, tucking it behind an ear. She then set to work on his buttons. She pulled on his shirt gently to untuck it from his pants, and then unbuttoned what few buttons he had done up when he had dressed that morning. Once the shirt was unbuttoned, she pushed if off of his shoulders and down onto the bed. Sands took his hands out of bunched up sleeves and allowed her the honor of throwing the garment to the other side of the bed.
He then sat before her, bare-chested and breathing slightly faster than he had been when she had started. She ran her cool hands down his chest, playing a bit with the line of dark hair that ran down from his belly button, causing him to shiver under her ministrations. Smiling wickedly, she ran her hand even lower, stopping when she felt his hardness under her fingertips. Sands let out a little moan at the feel of her cool fingers lightly grasping his cock, and this only served to spur her on further. She removed her hand and was about to unbutton his pants when he grasped her wrist tight enough to sting a bit. "Not yet," he drawled, his voice thick with lust. "It's my turn again,"
Yvette merely nodded, wincing a bit at the force he had grabbed her wrist with. She would most likely have a bruise there tomorrow. Sands quickly reached around behind her and unhooked her bra in such a graceful way that she didn't even think she could have done it better. Her bra fell to her lap without barrier, and he added it unceremoniously to the pile of her dress and purse.
She then lay back on the bed, and allowed Sands to run his delicate long fingers over her body, resting lightly on the twin peaks of her nipples, pinching them a bit roughly and causing them to grow hard in the chill of the room. Yvette let out a little groan of her own before she could stop herself. This man's hands were indeed talented. He smiled and leant over her, his long hair tickling her naked body. She reached out to touch him, but he caught both of her narrow wrists in one of his talented long-fingers hands and held them fast. "No, it's still my turn," he said again, gasped as he lowered his head down to one of her breasts, latching on her aching nipple with his mouth. He sucked and nipped at her, his right hand still holding her wrists together tightly on the bed, his other hand giving her other nipple deserved attention.
Yvette shivered and longed to press his head harder to her chest, but Sands had her arms tight and didn't seem to be letting go any time soon. He did however release her nipple from his fingers, causing her to whimper a bit at the lost contact. All while still rolling her nipple in his teeth and around his tongue, he hooked a finger in her panties and tugged slightly to get them off, and she obliged him by raising her hips. When he had managed to get panties off and added to pile of the rest of her clothes, he stopped everything and sat back to look at her.
Yvette was breathing heavily now and aching for the return of his touch, but she wasn't going to give up the control he willingly gave her for the moment. From the way he had held her wrists above her head, not allowing her to return the favor of his touch; she could tell that he liked to be the one in control while having sex. She didn't really mind, but she knew that she had to take advantage of this opportunity while he presented it, because there would most likely not be another. Under her trembling but delicate hands, Sands pants were discarded on the same side of the bed as his shirt. Yvette raised her eyebrows and smirked. "Commando, huh? Why am I not surprised?" With that comment, Sands smirked and took her, and they fused together, wordless save for their chorused moans of pleasure, and the scream loud enough to make his ears ring, "Oh God, yes! Harder, Sands! Harder!"
***
Sands shot up in the cheap motel bed, the sound of her plea still echoing in his brain. He remembered. He had taken her home with him. He had slept with her in his apartment. But what had happened next? How had she ended up murdered? Did he kill her? Thinking back to the transvestite he had just murdered without even the slightest twinge of regret, he thought it was indeed a possibility. But why couldn't he remember it?
'Because I was there instead, Sheldon,' the voice inside his head whispered. 'I'm always there when you kill. Except for just now, that is. You killed someone without my help. Congratulations, I guess you're not as worthless as I thought you were after all.'
"Oh God, shut the fuck up. You're just a voice inside my head! Why can't I get rid of you?" Sands shouted, pressing his hands to his temples.
'Because I've always been here, Sheldon. I am as much a part of you as an arm. I was there when you burnt your parents alive. I was there laughing when you poured the gasoline over their bound and gagged bodies. I was there to hear their muffled pleas for you to stop. For you to let them live.
I was there when you killed Yvette. It was my hand that plunged the kitchen knife into her body over and over again. I got to hear her gurgled screams. I got to witness her vain attempt to reach the gun she kept in her purse. The one her friend had insisted she bring should you turn out be a homicidal maniac. Guess what, her friend was right to suggest that. You are a psychotic with my help Sheldon, and a sociopath without. How does that make you feel?'
TBC
A/N: Ok, how'd you like that chapter? I worry about the smut scene since that was only my second attempt at writing such a scene, but I think it turned out alright. Please send along your reviews to let me know if I'm still on the right track with this fic. I appreciate it.
A Once Upon a Time in Mexico story by Merrie
Disclaimer: SJ is not mine, no matter how much I might wish it. Damn.
Characters: SJ, the murdered Yvette St. Martin in flashback form, and her two friends Emily and Susannah.
Author's Note: This takes place before the movie, before SJ was even a CIA agent. Thanks to the wonderful Miss B, for betaing, and gypsy and Halia for the continued support of this fic. You guys rock!! And to all of my wonderful reviewers? Thanks you guys, I'm glad you like this fic!!
Also, remember that SJ is only 27 in this fic, not yet a member of the CIA and not yet the man he ends up as in the movie. For right now he's simply an everyday seemingly normal rich kid who likes to kill people. ;-)
Rating: Hard R for extreme violence, very graphic imagery, naughty thoughts and language, and above all a long smut scene at the end. If you aren't of age, turn back now. Savvy?
Chapter Three: Remembered Engagements
Sands dreamt. He dreamed of a laughing, smiling woman, her body drenched in blood. He dreamt of fire, of murder, of death.
He remembered the girl in his dreams. He remembered meeting Yvette St. Martin in the greasy little Mexican restaurant downtown he had once liked so much. She had approached his table and sat down. She was attracted to him, it was obvious. He remembered not believing that he had actually managed to pick up a girl in a Mexican restaurant. Something about the whole scene seemed unnatural. She had come up and sat at his table without a word, sticking out in the cheap restaurant in her black evening wear. Of course, so did he, but he was a regular, so he was paid no mind.
She sat there, and neither of them said a word. She simply placed her head in a hand propped up on the table and stared at him. All around them the busy sounds of the restaurant attempted to intrude on the silence she radiated. Finally, he was the one to break the silence, "Sands," he said, gesturing to himself with a food-filled fork. He went about his meal; seemingly not even bothering to pay any further attention the beautiful young woman seated mere inches in front of him other than the initial introduction.
The girl had smiled then, leaning even closer to him. "My name's Yvette. I bet you're wondering what I'm doing over here."
"Not really," Sands said after taking a moment to chew and swallow his food. "I noticed you coming over. And I see your two friends sitting there watching us like hawks. My guess is that there was a bet of some kind."
Yvette looked a bit stunned at this, that he was able to read her attentions so accurately, "Yes, actually. You're right. My friends and I," she gestured to two young women across the room at the short bar, who once they saw they had been caught, blushed simultaneously and turned away. Yvette continued, "We've been watching you ever since we came in here. They bet me to come over and talk to you. So Sands, that's your name? Not your first name, I take it?"
"How astute of you," Sands said dryly. He was being a bit of an asshole, but he didn't like being made a spectacle of. Yvette didn't seem to mind his attitude, however so he sighed and went on. "Yes it's my last name," he finally said, putting down his fork to look at her.
"Are you going to tell me your first name? I told you mine," she said, smiling coyly.
"You didn't tell me your last name though, sugarbutt so I guess that makes us even," Sands drawled slowly.
She smiled a bit, "Sugarbutt? Where'd you pick that one up? I've never heard that one before. And my last name's St. Martin by the way," she pronounced it the French way, making it sound almost like San Martan.
"Yvette St. Matin," he said, rolling the syllables over his tongue. He met her eyes and saw that she was waiting for him to fill out the rest of his own name. "No sugar, I think we'll just stick with Sands. It makes me more mysterious that way," he winked at her.
Yvette laughed and shook her head, her white blonde shoulder-length hair swaying slightly. "Fine, Sands then. What do you do for a living, Sands?"
"Mostly I like to fuck with people's minds," he murmured under his breath.
"What did you say? I didn't quite catch that," Yvette asked.
"I said I'm independently wealthy and don't work right now. I did however just finish graduate school and am in the job market," he finished, not bothering to repeat his first words. There was something about the girl that caused a great feeling of mistrust to wash over him. For some reason, he was berating himself for telling the girl that much about him, and that something would have to be done about it. What that something was, he didn't know, but the feeling was there all the same. When he didn't bother to reciprocate the question to Yvette, she answered without being asked.
"I work for the CIA. I know, that sounds pretty exciting when you say it like that, but really all I am is a glorified secretary," she rolled her eyes and let out a short musical laugh. "Excuse me, an executive assistant. There is no such thing as a secretary anymore, is there?"
Sands let out a genuine laugh at this and even sent a tight lipped smile her way. "Let me buy you a drink, Yvette. This place doesn't have much to offer, but I find the tequila and lime is beginning to grow on me."
"The tequila and lime it is then," she said with a smile. She then glanced over her shoulder while he was flagging down a waiter to see that her two friends were once more staring at her and Sands and sent them a look that pretty much said, 'Can you believe this is happening?' She saw her friend Susannah giggle softly into her hand like a schoolgirl and her other friend Emily fan herself dramatically with a cocktail napkin, both of them giving the man across the table from her smouldering looks.
She turned back to the man and watched him silently as he talked to the waiter and ordered their drinks. His shoulder-length dark hair shined in the fluorescent light of the restaurant, and contrasted beautifully with the deep red wine colored silk long sleeve shirt he had on. The shirt was open at the throat, exposing the barest hint of a smooth pale chest that left her imagination reeling. Yvette thought it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Never before had she been so taken with a man in such a way. She longed to run her hands through that long hair, to nibble on his full lips and to ride his lean form furiously until he begged for release. Such thoughts made a horrible blush flame its way across her fair skin. She could feel the warmth of it and knew that it wouldn't look good.
Sands finished ordering the drinks, turned back to her, saw the blush and smirked. There was no doubt in his mind as to the cause of such a blush. Her thoughts were written all over her face. He knew desire and lust when he saw it, and knew that he wouldn't be going home alone tonight. His smirk intensified as he saw her blush grow darker. "Is something wrong, Yvette?" He asked casually.
Yvette rolled her eyes at him, trying to will her blush away. She knew he had probably guessed what was on her mind by his smirk, so she decided to throw caution to the wind and tell her exactly what was on her mind, "I'm imagining the sight of you naked and writhing underneath me, begging for the touch I'm denying you," she said, leaning even further across toward him.
The world stopped. The impossible had happened. Sands was shocked. He felt his mouth open in a bit of a gape, his quick mind failing him when he needed it most. This girl had managed to shock him into silence. He was still speechless when the waiter returned and set their drinks on the table. Yvette sipped at hers delicately as Sands let out a low whistle. "Well golly, that was different. I'm usually the mind-fucker in the conversation, not the other way around."
"Ah, so that is what you said earlier? That you like to fuck with people's minds mostly? I was pretty sure it was, but couldn't be completely sure. As you can tell, I like to fuck with people's minds as well," she looked over him slowly, and Sands was tempted to bear his teeth to see if they stood up to her inspection. "Actually, I just like fucking in general," she said, a naughty smirk of her own crossing her face.
"That can be arranged sugarbutt," Sands said, the shocked look on his face once more replaced by a smirk.
"You know, I think I like that, the sugarbutt. It just seems to fit you somehow," Yvette said, smiling over the rim of her glass.
Sands didn't answer her, but merely tossed back his tequila with a grimace and waved the waiter over again to pay for his meal and the drinks. Once that was accomplished, he turned back to Yvette. "Are you ready to go, sugarbutt?" He asked, his smirk in full force now.
"You bet your ass I am, honeybuns," Yvette said, laughing. She stood up out of the chair and walked back over to where her friends sat at the bar. Sands left a tip and followed her.
Sands nodded to the two young women seated at the bar, both of whom were staring at their friend with a mixture of awe and jealousy. Sands had to fight back a laugh. 'This is rather amusing,' he thought. 'I wonder what I'd do if they started fighting for me?' That image alone was enough to send his face into smirk-mode on its own, but he still managed to keep control of his laughter.
"You lucky bitch, Yvette," one of her two friends said, a sultry looking red-head in an emerald green cocktail dress. "He is a rather fine specimen if I do say so myself," she raked her eyes over Sand's form much more thoroughly than Yvette had, and Sands almost felt the urge to blush under such an onslaught. Almost. "I'm Emily, by the way," she said, holding out a dainty bejeweled hand. Sands grasped it firmly and planted a kiss on her knuckles in a gallant gesture. When he released her hand, she used it to fan herself briskly and looked him squarely in the eye. "If Yvette wasn't such a good friend of mine, I'd knock her down and eat you up with a spoon, dearie," she said with a wink. Sands let out a short laugh, amused by all the attention.
Susannah, Yvette's other friend, a beautiful and kind looking brunette in royal blue wasn't quite as vocal as Emily had been, but the looks she sent Sands' direction weren't all that different. Sands was a bit lighter and more gentle with the kiss he placed on her proffered hand, never taking his eyes from hers as he did it. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sands," she said softly.
"No, the pleasure was entirely mine, Susannah. And it's just Sands," he said, sending her as soft a smile as he could manage.
"Goodnight, ladies," Yvette cut in. "I'm sure the two of you can find your own way home," she said with a laugh. Before she could grab her coat from the back of the barstool she had been sitting in, Sands snatched it away so fast that she hadn't even seen him move, and held it out open from behind her so she could put it on with ease. Emily mumbled what sounded like 'lucky bitch' again, and Yvette allowed Sands to help her put on her coat.
"Don't forget your purse," Susannah said with a direct look towards her friend that Sands didn't fully understand. 'Perhaps she had condoms in it?' Yvette merely nodded and grabbed it.
Once that was accomplished, Sands zipped up his own coat and they made their way out of the restaurant, into Sands' black Jag, which Yvette cooed over, and back to his apartment.
***
"Oh wow, look at the size of this place!" Yvette gushed upon entering his apartment. She immediately set out to look over everything and anything in as little time possible. Sands had been through this process before and simply sat in an overstuffed black leather chair in his living room and let her look. She wandered from room to room, not quite going through his underwear drawers and medicine cabinet, but close. "Hey, look at the size of this tub!" She shouted from the bathroom. "Want to take a bath?" she called out enticingly.
The thought did have its appeal. A nice hot bath in his Jacuzzi with a willing woman could be very enjoyable indeed. "Perhaps later," he called back.
She came out of the living room and sauntered slowly over to him, taking a seat on his lap. She seemed to be totally at ease with herself, and this pleased Sands immensely. He liked a woman who knew what she wanted. And Yvette St. Marin certainly seemed to be that kind of a woman.
Sands decided to make the first move and grabbed Yvette by the back of her head and pulled her down for a searing kiss that after a long moment left the two of them breathless. "Your bedroom's where? I seem to have forgotten," Yvette said a bit dreamily. Sands smiled and scooped her up in his arms and carried her in the direction of his bedroom and laid her on his large bed.
"Roll over," Sands commanded softly. She did as she was bid, and he unzipped the back of her dress all the way and with her help pulled it off of her and threw it over the side of the bed. When this was accomplished, she rolled back over and Sands drank in the sight of her in a lacy black satin bra and panties, her high heels still strapped on to her feet.
"My turn," she whispered. Sands nodded, and allowed her to sit up on the bed. He sat down next to her and let her do what she wished. The first thing she did was to reach out and wipe a stray lock of his dark hair away from his face, tucking it behind an ear. She then set to work on his buttons. She pulled on his shirt gently to untuck it from his pants, and then unbuttoned what few buttons he had done up when he had dressed that morning. Once the shirt was unbuttoned, she pushed if off of his shoulders and down onto the bed. Sands took his hands out of bunched up sleeves and allowed her the honor of throwing the garment to the other side of the bed.
He then sat before her, bare-chested and breathing slightly faster than he had been when she had started. She ran her cool hands down his chest, playing a bit with the line of dark hair that ran down from his belly button, causing him to shiver under her ministrations. Smiling wickedly, she ran her hand even lower, stopping when she felt his hardness under her fingertips. Sands let out a little moan at the feel of her cool fingers lightly grasping his cock, and this only served to spur her on further. She removed her hand and was about to unbutton his pants when he grasped her wrist tight enough to sting a bit. "Not yet," he drawled, his voice thick with lust. "It's my turn again,"
Yvette merely nodded, wincing a bit at the force he had grabbed her wrist with. She would most likely have a bruise there tomorrow. Sands quickly reached around behind her and unhooked her bra in such a graceful way that she didn't even think she could have done it better. Her bra fell to her lap without barrier, and he added it unceremoniously to the pile of her dress and purse.
She then lay back on the bed, and allowed Sands to run his delicate long fingers over her body, resting lightly on the twin peaks of her nipples, pinching them a bit roughly and causing them to grow hard in the chill of the room. Yvette let out a little groan of her own before she could stop herself. This man's hands were indeed talented. He smiled and leant over her, his long hair tickling her naked body. She reached out to touch him, but he caught both of her narrow wrists in one of his talented long-fingers hands and held them fast. "No, it's still my turn," he said again, gasped as he lowered his head down to one of her breasts, latching on her aching nipple with his mouth. He sucked and nipped at her, his right hand still holding her wrists together tightly on the bed, his other hand giving her other nipple deserved attention.
Yvette shivered and longed to press his head harder to her chest, but Sands had her arms tight and didn't seem to be letting go any time soon. He did however release her nipple from his fingers, causing her to whimper a bit at the lost contact. All while still rolling her nipple in his teeth and around his tongue, he hooked a finger in her panties and tugged slightly to get them off, and she obliged him by raising her hips. When he had managed to get panties off and added to pile of the rest of her clothes, he stopped everything and sat back to look at her.
Yvette was breathing heavily now and aching for the return of his touch, but she wasn't going to give up the control he willingly gave her for the moment. From the way he had held her wrists above her head, not allowing her to return the favor of his touch; she could tell that he liked to be the one in control while having sex. She didn't really mind, but she knew that she had to take advantage of this opportunity while he presented it, because there would most likely not be another. Under her trembling but delicate hands, Sands pants were discarded on the same side of the bed as his shirt. Yvette raised her eyebrows and smirked. "Commando, huh? Why am I not surprised?" With that comment, Sands smirked and took her, and they fused together, wordless save for their chorused moans of pleasure, and the scream loud enough to make his ears ring, "Oh God, yes! Harder, Sands! Harder!"
***
Sands shot up in the cheap motel bed, the sound of her plea still echoing in his brain. He remembered. He had taken her home with him. He had slept with her in his apartment. But what had happened next? How had she ended up murdered? Did he kill her? Thinking back to the transvestite he had just murdered without even the slightest twinge of regret, he thought it was indeed a possibility. But why couldn't he remember it?
'Because I was there instead, Sheldon,' the voice inside his head whispered. 'I'm always there when you kill. Except for just now, that is. You killed someone without my help. Congratulations, I guess you're not as worthless as I thought you were after all.'
"Oh God, shut the fuck up. You're just a voice inside my head! Why can't I get rid of you?" Sands shouted, pressing his hands to his temples.
'Because I've always been here, Sheldon. I am as much a part of you as an arm. I was there when you burnt your parents alive. I was there laughing when you poured the gasoline over their bound and gagged bodies. I was there to hear their muffled pleas for you to stop. For you to let them live.
I was there when you killed Yvette. It was my hand that plunged the kitchen knife into her body over and over again. I got to hear her gurgled screams. I got to witness her vain attempt to reach the gun she kept in her purse. The one her friend had insisted she bring should you turn out be a homicidal maniac. Guess what, her friend was right to suggest that. You are a psychotic with my help Sheldon, and a sociopath without. How does that make you feel?'
TBC
A/N: Ok, how'd you like that chapter? I worry about the smut scene since that was only my second attempt at writing such a scene, but I think it turned out alright. Please send along your reviews to let me know if I'm still on the right track with this fic. I appreciate it.