Red Ribbons In Her Hair Ch 06

He watched her from across the room, his eyes noting every intricate detail of her from the way her glossy chestnut hair caressed her shoulders to the sparkle in the chocolate depths of her eyes. The red dress she wore caressed her body with scarlet silk, a tiny bit of lace slipping over her arm. It followed her curves with the faithfulness of a lover's hand, hinting of the sweet ripeness of her nipples through the translucent fabric.

He saw her as she swayed with the music that played in the air around them, seeing her lips as she sang along. She smiled at him, her fingers waggling in front of her as she backed away, beckoning him, daring him to come with her.

Pressing through the crowd was difficult for they seemed to be determined to keep him away from her, blocking his path whichever way he turned. He finally pushed past them, his eyes scanning the room, searching for her once more. He saw her on the staircase, watching as she slipped the straps of her dress from her shoulders, seeing it pool in a waterfall of scarlet silk around her slender waist baring her breasts to his avid gaze.

"Come, Gabe," she moaned, her hands slowly sliding from the smooth skin of her taut stomach up and over her ribs and finally cupping the soft curves of her breasts, kneading them gently. "Come make love to me," she called to him, rolling her hard nipples between her fingers, her lips parting as she whimpered her pleasure.

He took the steps two at a time, anxious to reach her, wanting to touch her, to kiss those lips, to make love to her. His cock was hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans, his hands itched to touch her, to mold her body to his, to feel her wetness surrounding him.

She backed away from him slowly, her eyes on his, her hands out to him, beckoning him. She smiled seductively at him, backing into a bedroom finally allowing him close enough to touch her.

His hands grasped her waist, hauling her to him, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that scorched his soul, firing his desire. Her lips were warm and soft, her mouth hot with the darkness of passion. She tasted of sweetness and sin, a combination that had him pulling her even closer.

"Fuck me, Gabe," she whispered against his lips, her voice a siren's song of lust and need. "I want you inside of me."

His hands found the silk that covered the rounded curve of her ass, pulling it up until he could feel the soft flesh beneath. He tilted her hips, pressing her into his groin, letting her feel the hard bulge that pulsed with the rapid beating of his heart. Spinning her around, he pushed her against the wall, leaning his weight into her.

"More, baby," she whimpered as he ground his jean covered cock into the lacy red silk that covered her mound. "I want more."

He lifted her, her long slender legs wrapping around his waist. Reaching between them, he yanked on the tiny thong that barely protected her wet cunt, hearing her gasp as it dug into her flesh before the delicate material ripped, leaving her bare. And then his hand was at his own pants, tearing at the button and zipper, feeling her hands as they helped him push his jeans and the soft white briefs he wore under them, down his thighs.

His cock sprang out, slapping against her taut belly. He lifted her further, settling her so that she was just above the fat head of it and he could feel the swollen lips of her pussy, the heat of her brushing the skin of his shaft.

"You want that?" he asked her, his voice a harsh growl of lust. "You want me to shove that hard cock into you?" He lowered her slightly, feeling his dick push between wet lips into a heat that was almost unbearably sensual.

"Yes," she moaned. "Please, fuck me."

His mouth was on her throat, his teeth nipping hard at the soft skin there, using his tongue to lave at the spot and then sucking upon it as she moaned and whimpered, wriggling against him. He pushed into her, amazed at her tightness, at how wet and hot she was, his hands finding her ass and holding her even as she tried to take more of him.

"You're so tight," he moaned, his mouth at her ear. "You're so fucking tight and hot, Kaylee." And then he let loose of her, letting her drop until he filled her with his last few inches, pressing through tightly muscled depths as she cried out her pleasure, her nails digging into his shirt covered back, her head falling back against the wall.

He pressed her into the wall, his body thrusting against her with a fury born of lust and forbidden pleasures. Every stroke left him wanting more and knowing that it wouldn't be enough. Every friction filled thrust pulled him closer to the ecstasy he knew she would give him.

Kaylee clung to him; he could feel her hands on his back. He knew she was close as well for her whimpers and crries had turned to moans and begging pleadings for more. Her eyes were tightly closed, her mouth open clinging to his when he kissed her.

And then he heard her scream and his eyes flew open. He was alone in his bed. "Kaylee?" he said softly.

Muffled running steps came from across the hall and then his door was flung open. "He's after me, Gabe," she cried, flinging herself against him.

"Who's after you?" He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the tremors of her body against him. "Who? Kaylee?" he said, pulling her back a ways until he could see into her face.

"The killer," she moaned. "He was there with a knife. He's trying to kill me like he did the others." She wrapped herself around him again.

"Where? Kaylee, come on, you've got to tell me where?"

"In my room," she whimpered. "He was there, in the corner. He had a knife. All I could see were his eyes and the knife."

Gabe pushed her off of him gently, going to the side of the bed and reaching for a pair of sweats. He stood to pull them on over his naked body, hearing her gasp as she saw him in the dim light. Grabbing his duty weapon off the stand, he flicked off the safety.

"Stay here," he ordered her.

"No, I'm going with you."

"Kaylee, I don't have time to argue with you. Stay here," he said again, this time with more emphasis.

His bare feet were silent on the carpeted floor and he peered through the crack of his door, checking out the hallway before opening the door. He crossed the hallway, peering intently into the blackness of her room, searching for the shadows. Slipping his hand inside, he found the light switch and flipped it, bathing the room in light.

Nothing. Going through with the search, he checked the bed and the closet, checked the single window and found it locked still, just as it was when he'd checked them earlier. But to make Kaylee and himself feel better, he did a quick search of the entire apartment. Nothing was disturbed, all the doors and windows were locked.

He slipped the safety back on his pistol as he walked back into his bedroom. She'd curled up on the bed, her arms wrapped around her knees, rocking slowly as she stared at the door, waiting for him. As soon as he came in, she rose from the bed, almost running to him.

"Did you find him?" she asked.

"No, there's no one here but us, Kaylee. I've checked the entire apartment and didn't find anything." He put his hand on her shoulder, feeling the tremors that were still making her body shake. "You were dreaming, Kaylee. And it's perfectly normal after the day you've had. If you didn't have bad dreams I'd be worried."

"But it was so real. He was standing there, he was staring at me and flashing that kn... knife around." She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her waist.

"You should get back to bed, Kaylee," Gabe said, his eyes traveling over the length of her. She'd taken off the sweats before going to bed and was now only wearing his tee shirt and the thick white socks. Her legs were long and tan, leanly muscled. His tee shirt reached about mid thigh leaving a long expanse of tawny skin to admire. And the shirt, an old one that had been washed many times, was soft, molding to her slender body, emphasizing her lush curves. It clung to the curve of her breasts, rounding over the tiny bumps made by her distended nipples.

She glanced up at him, then at the door of his bedroom. Her stomach was in knots, her fear a palpable thing that she couldn't ignore. The palms of her hands were sweating, and she wiped them on his shirt, pulling down on the fabric as she did.

Gabe groaned, staring at the soft curves of her breasts. They could have been naked for all the cover that his shirt gave them.

"I'm scared," Kaylee said, startling him enough that his eyes left her body and he gazed at her face. "I'm scared," she said again. "And it's pissing me off. I've never been a whiny girl who needs a man to get her out of trouble before. I can't believe I'm acting the way I am now. But just the thought of going back to that bedroom and climbing into that bed has me almost frozen with fear."

"It's good to be mad, Kaylee. And it's good to be afraid." He reached out and snagged a lock of her hair that had fallen into her face. He played with it for a moment, sliding the silken tress through his fingers before hooking it behind her ear. "You're being scared means that you'll be cautious. That's a very good thing right now."

"But I hate it. I feel like I'll never be safe again." She angrily swiped at her cheek where a single tear had fallen. "I hate crying, I hate being afraid, and I hate running away. And right now, I'm doing all three." She brushed at her cheek again, sniffling.

"Come here," he ordered her. He pulled her against his naked chest, savoring the way she felt, so soft and warm. "Tell you what, if you can promise to keep your hands off of me, you can share my bed the rest of the night. But I gotta have your word, no hinky stuff. I'm saving myself for my wedding night."

He smiled as she snorted, laughing as he'd hoped she would.

"I think I can refrain," she said, smiling at him.

"I don't know," he said squinting his eyes as he stared down at her. "I'm a pretty hot ticket. Maybe I should have you sign something."

"Next you'll want it in blood," she smirked up at him.

He squeezed her, almost groaning at the way her breasts felt against his chest but managing to swallow it at the last moment. "Come on, you get the right side."

"But I always sleep on the left side," she complained good naturedly.

"Then put your head down at the foot of the bed," he quipped, smiling.

* * * *

The knife slipped between the window frame and the lock easily, and with a quick jiggle, it popped free. It opened almost as easily, sliding silently up on its plastic track.

The man slipped his mask over his face, slid the knife back into its leather sheath that he wore on his belt. He picked up his small roll bag that contained his kit and shimmied his way through the window and into the apartment. The bedroom was empty, but he could see signs that it had been occupied. The bed was mussed and a towel was draped over the back of a chair.

He carefully made it around the room, cautious of the furniture and any squeaking floor boards he might come across. It only takes one small sound to ruin the hunt and startle the prey. His blood was rushing through his veins, pumped by the too fast beat of his heart.

This was part of the rush, the thrill of his craft. Making his way in, being there when they were in the next room or even in the same room. It was the naughty factor, as he liked to think of it. He was being bad.

He went to the door, pressing his ear up against the wooden portal, listening for signs that someone was awake. It remained almost devastatingly quiet except for the ticking of a clock somewhere in the house and the drip of a faucet.

Reaching out with one gloved hand, he slowly turned the knob of the door, pulling it open. A quick look up and down the hall revealed that so far he was alone. He stepped over to the other door, turning the knob silently and pushing it open slowly.

Two heads were on the pillows in the bed. He could see both very well despite the blackness of the room. He would have to be quick and silent, hopefully grabbing one and killing the other before either could raise the alarm or put up a fight. The zipper of his kit seemed almost unnaturally loud as he pulled it open, grabbing out a small zip lock baggie that held a white cloth. The cloth had been soaked in a form of chloroform and he was cautious not to breathe in the fumes as he pulled it out of the protective plastic.

Kill one, slap the rag across the other's mouth and nose. It was that easy, and that difficult. He had to kill the first immediately and preferably without blood spurting all over. Not that he usually minded the blood, but he hadn't brought a change of clothing and he didn't want anyone looking at him suspiciously or drag blood all over his apartment.

Now, which was which? He moved silently to the side of the bed and smiled. They were so close that this should actually be easier.

Pulling the knife, he leaned over the entwined figures on the bed. With one quick jab that went straight between two ribs and into the heart of his intended victim, that part was done. The body gave a quick jerk but his knife had done its work admirably, the wound bleeding very little and the girl hadn't even woken up.

He pulled the knife free, wiping the bloody blade on the sheets of the bed before replacing it in its sheath. Reaching over the dead body, he covered the girl's face and nose, seeing her eyes open wide in shocked fear and then she fought, violently for a moment before slumping into unconsciousness.

It had been almost too easy, he thought, replacing the cloth in its baggie and then back into its kit. Easy was great, but it also made him nervous. When things were this easy, they were always likely to go snafu later.

But for now, he still had work to do. Reaching back into his kit, he pulled out the roll of duct tape, wrapping the sleeping girl tightly around the ankles and wrists, putting one piece over her mouth and another over her eyes. That would be how she woke, he thought with glee. Blind and mute in a dark room, unable to move, it would be utterly devastating. He rubbed his hands together at the thought.

But first he had to get her out of here and into his car which he'd parked at the end of the alley.

Picking her up, he slung her weight across his shoulder, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over her so it covered her completely. And then he made his way across the room, following his tracks. Getting them both out the window was a feat of dexterity, and he didn't know quite how he managed it, but he did.

He jogged his way back up the alley, opening his trunk and settling his cargo inside. Stopping to check her breathing, for he didn't want her dead, but nor did he want her to wake up on the trip to his place, he was happy to find her still deeply out. He slammed the lid closed, took off the mask and settled it in its customary place in his kit. Reaching in the back seat of his car, he pulled on a jacket, grabbed a baseball cap and then got into his car and started the engine.

He was smiling as he drove down the deserted streets, humming to the music on the radio. His heart was light, his mind rushing as he went over the details of his plans. Someone had quoted something once, something that had caught his attention at the time. What was it? Oh, yeah. The devil is in the details. He really liked that quote, for the devil was in the details with what he planned to do.

His cock stirred as he thought of his plan and of his captive. This one would be so much better than the last, that blonde, fat bitch that had done nothing but cry and whine, even while he strangled her. Her cunt had been loose and sloppy, just like her body with its rolls and sags.

It almost made him sick, to think that he'd actually fucked that. But it had been for a purpose and now he was being rewarded.

He thought of her as she'd been in that bed, under those bedclothes. She'd been wearing nothing but a tee shirt which had hiked up around her waist, leaving the soft down of her sex bare to his avid gaze. Her thighs had looked creamy smooth, slightly parted, giving him just a glimpse of the sweet pink folds between.

His hand stroked over the bulge that grew under the material of his pants, slowly squeezing the hard shaft that felt like steel. He couldn't wait for her to wake up, to find herself manacled to his chair, his to play with.

The zipper made little noise as he pulled it down, reaching inside his pants to free his cock from the restrictions of the material. With a small groan, he started stroking the bare flesh, the early secretions of silky clear liquid lubricating his hand as he thought of what he would do to her.

By the time he pulled into the driveway of his house, his cock was swollen and pulsating, his balls tight up against his body as the urge to come was almost overwhelming. But he wouldn't allow himself to do it here. No, he wouldn't waste a single drop of his spunk when he had a new toy to play with.

He pulled into the garage, hitting the button to send the heavy metal door back down, blocking out all sight of his precious cargo. Opening his car door, he got out, his cock still hard and bobbing as he walked around to the trunk.

She was awake when he opened the trunk lid. He could tell though her eyes were taped shut. She might have pretended to be asleep but her head turned towards the sound of the trunk being opened.

"Hello my pretty," he said in a squeaky falsetto voice. "I told you I'd get you, and your little dog, too." He trailed it off, cackling wildly. His hand touched her cheek, feeling her jerk away. He reached down, grabbing hold of the bottom of the tee shirt she wore, pulling it up until he could once more see the hair covered mound of her sex, his fingers sifting through those sparse curls before tickling the thick lips between, even while she squirmed and wriggled, muffled moans and pleas coming from behind her taped mouth.

"It's not nice to fool Mother Nature," he said, his voice deepening. He pushed into her sex, feeling the dry, tight folds that tried to keep him out. He pushed harder, first one finger and then two, into her vaginal channel, his nails scraping against the velvety walls, uncaring if he hurt her, ignoring her pleas and cries of pain.

"Get used to it," he hissed, moving closer to her so she could hear every word, a small stringing line of spittle escaping his mouth to drip down upon her. "You're here until I want to get rid of you, bitch, and no one will be able to find you. No one will know where you are, or hear your screams. No one will know when I tire of you and decide to kill you. No one will be able to find your body. You'll rot alone, out in some field where the insects and the animals can get at you until you're nothing but bones."

He lifted her into a sitting position, taking his hand from between her legs. Her shoulders were shaking and he knew she was crying even if he couldn't see the tears. Holding her long, dark hair in one hand, he moved her face closer to his heavily throbbing cock, rubbing the veined shaft against her soft cheeks and into the silken mass of her hair.

"Mm," he moaned. "You feel good. Just remember, the longer you keep me interested, the longer you live." He laughed as he heard her sob again, reaching down to grab his cock, slapping it against her face, before jerking on it.

He came, ropy strands of pearly come jetting from the tip of his cock and bathing her in its heat. She flinched at each tiny splash of fluid, her head shaking as if she wanted to deny what was happening to her.

When he was finished, he cleaned his cock on the front of her tee shirt before tucking it back into his pants. And then he reached down, lifting her easily, throwing her over his shoulder once more and took her into his house.