Eve stares out the window, lost in thought. Only two weeks have passed since the incident at the police station and she still can't believe the dramatic turn of events that took place that night. Even now, she can hear Officer David's deep, commanding voice in her ear as well as the sound of the rattling handcuffs that held her in place. She can still feel his burning lips seared to hers and feel his throbbing cock thrusting in and out of her slick, little pussy. The look in his emerald-gold eyes had been one of malice at her arrogant threat of turning him in. He told her that he'd make her life a living hell if she told anyone that he'd raped her.
At the time, she'd been utterly terrified but now, every day that she remains silent, strips her of her fear and fuels her anger.
He should fucking pay! Narcissistic asshole... She imagines TV reporters, newspapers and the World Wide Web covering such a big story. His face would be plastered everywhere. They would show her, the innocent victim, traumatized and crying to Barbara Walters about the horrific event. There would be live coverage as they hauled his ass off to jail. Then he would be the one getting fucked.
The thought makes her smile, her devious mind at work.
Suddenly the doorbell rings making her jump and stifle a gasp. Cursing, she spills her Mountain Dew all over the table and in her lap. God, she's still jumpy. Bravado only goes so far.
After grabbing a kitchen towel off the counter and quickly wiping up the mess, she tiptoes to the door and looks out of the tiny peephole. When she sees who it is, she releases a long sigh of relief and flings open the door.
Standing on the front porch and looking like she just stepped off a magazine cover, is her best friend, Ann.
"Hey, Eve. Wow... You look like shit," her friend rudely states, taking off her Channel sun glasses to better assess her appearance. She never was one for subtlety.
It irks Eve that, that is her friend's way of greeting but she didn't realize just how disheveled she must look. It's 4:00 p.m. and she's still in her fuzzy pajamas, pajamas that are soaked with soda. Her pretty locks are a tangled rats-nest and her eyes are red and dry like rough sandpaper. At least she brushed her teeth.
"So, have you found your I.D. yet?"
"No, damn it!" Eve snaps, instantly fuming. The loss of her I.D. is the least of her concerns. She knows her friend isn't trying to push her buttons, but she's doing a damn good job at it.
"Oh... Well, I see that the security cameras that your father bought have been installed," Ann comments, eyeing one of the high-tech devices above the door. "Why the sudden fear? You still don't think someone is watching you, do you?"
Eve shrugs, refusing to meet her friend's suspicious gaze. Instead, she anxiously scans the yard. She knows David doesn't know where she lives, but the thought of him finding her makes her blood run cold. She's not one to cower in fear, but it's better to be safe than sorry.
"Listen, Eve, I'm worried about you. Why don't you just go to the authorities? Maybe they could send an officer over to help keep an eye--"
"NO!" She interrupts, abruptly shooting her hand out in front of her like a stop sign and wildly glancing around as if she's scared someone has heard her.
Her reaction makes her friend jump back in surprise, and she drops her sunglasses on the ground.
"Sorry... I just don't want to bother them. I'm sure I'm just being paranoid." Her words are a blatant lie, but Ann doesn't need to know that.
She had in fact, gone to the police station two days ago.
With her head held high and her mind made up, she'd finally decided to turn him in.
She'd wrapped her trembling fingers around one of the double door handles and cautiously opened it. Without moving an inch and holding the door open like a fool, she'd nervously glanced inside. There had been more officers milling around the station than on that fateful night. When her baby blue eyes spotted the two men who had arrested her, she went into a panic and instantly snatched her hand away as if the cold metal had burned her skin. She'd stumbled down the steps and fled the area knowing that she couldn't do it.
"Anyway, I came by to tell you that Steven Fin is throwing a party tonight and he wants you to show up," her friend says in a sing-song voice, breaking into Eve's thoughts.
"Be there by 8:00 p.m. and wear something sexy," Ann calls out, strolling down the walk way to her flashy red Porsche.
Eve growls in frustration. She really wants to go. For years, she's fantasized about fucking Steven and even though she's afraid to leave the house, she can't pass up this opportunity.
She locks herself in her room, and then rummages around in her closet looking for something to wear.
Her eyes come to rest on a brand new dress that she bought a month ago. It would be perfect for tonight's party. It's pale pink, with a plunging neckline, extremely short, and skin tight. The most alluring part of the dress is the crescent moon cut out, starting just under her right breast and curling toward her right hip, exposing a large portion of her smooth, toned tummy.
Eve slips it on over her head and appraises herself in the full-length mirror. The dress clings to her body, nicely displaying her prominent curves. Her ass looks enticing, as always and her puffy, pink nipples poke against the thin material. She shouldn't wear it, though. Not after the night at the police station. It's way too revealing...
An image of David pops into her mind and the way his lustful eyes had roamed over her body.
She couldn't blame him for that. She'd looked like a cock-teasing slut and, if he hadn't checked her out, she would have been offended. At the time, however, flirting and bribing him with her body was a grievous mistake. Her smartass comments and rude behavior didn't win her any points either. She just couldn't stop herself! He attempted to arrest her!
That asshole still shouldn't have locked her in a cell and taken her against her will. He'd used her for his pleasure, and she hated him for making her enjoy it.
Seething in remembrance, she keeps the dress on, adding a pair of sexy 6 inch heels.
She's not going to let that fucking jerk control her life. She'll do whatever the hell she wants. Yes, she might be an egotistical brat but in the end, her word is law, not his.
Once she's finished touching up her makeup, and smoothing down her dress, she sets her house alarm and walks outside, firmly locking the door behind her.
Eve decides to drive to the party in her brand new sports car. Even though she crashed the last one, her daddy bought her a new one the very next day.
She still hasn't told him that she wrecked the other car because she was drinking and driving, and she definitely hasn't told him that she got arrested and raped.
Who knows how he would react. If he got pissed at her, she'd lose her inheritance, and there's no way in hell she'd let that happen.
Arriving at the party, she strolls into the house like she owns the place. It's crowded, filled with laughing and shouting guests and all eyes turn to her as she enters the living room.
She knows she looks sexy.
Immediately, guys are offering her drinks and escorting her into the kitchen. They're practically drooling! She smirks, clearly amused.
After downing three shots of vodka in quick succession, she prances around the house, swaying her hips provocatively to the blaring music.
A few guys rub up against her as she gracefully moves through the sea of people and, on more than one occasion, she feels their hard-ons brush and press against her tummy. It takes her a few minutes to find Steven and, when she finally spots him, she feels her blood boil and her cheeks turn crimson in anger. He's in the den and practically fucking some random slut on the couch!
Irritated, and on the verge of causing a scene, she storms back into the kitchen and takes two shots of whiskey. She doesn't like to be made a fool of. There are tons of guys here that are ogling her; and she could have anyone of them, but she's too pissed off to have sex.
