It had been over an hour since the last of her co-workers had left to go home for the day. She was still in her office, doggedly making her way through the never-ending stack of work on her desk. Dejectedly, she sat back in her squeaky office chair with the worn armrests, and rubbed her temples with her fingers. The words and images were beginning to run together on her computer screen. Her productivity had officially come to a screeching halt.
The prospect of going home didn't excite her. There was nothing there for her except a frozen dinner to heat up in the microwave. After she ate, she would curl up on the couch with a glass of cheap wine, and whatever awful reality show was on TV, until she fell asleep. Her routine was the same, every day, without fail.
Glancing across her desk at the mountain of unfinished work, she shook her head in irritation. "Something has to change," she thought. "This couldn't possibly be all there is to life, could it?" Her chair gave a loud squeak of protest as she stood up. She didn't bother tidying up her work area, instead, she grabbed her purse and keys and marched out of her office. The slamming of her office door was her singular act of defiance.
She ambled through the main room of the office, flicking light switches off as she went. She didn't have to think about it, moving purely out of habit. She always made sure the lights were off because she was always the last person out of the building each night.
It was summertime so she hadn't brought a jacket to work. She was dressed smartly and professionally. Her skirt reached below her knees and was just full enough to hide the curves of her waist and hips. Her shoes were sensible with only the slightest of heels, made for comfort and function. Only the top button of her blouse was undone, never allowing the leering men of the office a peek at the cleavage created by her soft, bountiful, creamy-white breasts.
She was an attractive woman, in her early 30's, with porcelain skin, big blue eyes and long blonde hair. At different times, men in the office had made attempts at getting to know her better, wanting to discover the body she kept hidden under her smart clothing. However, most of them were balding and paunchy, and looking for a diversion from their loveless marriages. She always politely declined their advances. The one younger guy in the office, whom she might have considered, had been in a committed relationship for several years with his partner, Kevin. Such was her luck.
She locked the main office door and made her way to the bank of elevators, pressing the down button. As she waited, she thought of what her upcoming weekend would entail. Her brow furrowed as she realized it would be more of the same: cleaning her apartment, washing laundry for the week, grocery shopping for more frozen dinners and wine. She would be doing the same mundane activities that she always did. "Nothing ever changes. I am in such a rut," she thought.
Her irritation was rising even more as she entered the elevator and pressed the big "B" button for the basement level. "Maybe I should get a cat," she mused as the elevator hummed along, taking her deep beneath the building. She was wondering how many cats she would need to own before being considered a "crazy cat lady" when the doors opened and she stepped out into the basement parking garage.
When she started her job a few years before, the parking garage had made her uneasy. The cement cave amplified and echoed even the smallest of sounds so it often seemed that someone was walking near her, even when she was completely alone. Overhead lights would burn out and it took a long time for building maintenance to replace them, leaving many areas of the garage in deep shadow.
Each morning, when she arrived at work, the garage was full of other employee vehicles and she would have to park a good distance away from the elevators. That meant when she left at night, it would be empty and she would have to walk far across the basement alone. At first, this had upset her but eventually, she had gotten used to it and rarely thought about it.
With her purse slung over her shoulder and her keys clutched in her hand, she began her trek to the far end of the parking garage. Several large concrete and steel support columns stood between her and her car, blocking it from her view. She walked briskly, the clicking of her sensible shoes echoing around her.
She was parked next to the same support column she parked next to every day. Realizing it was darker than normal, her eyes swept up to the ceiling and noticed more lights had burned out. She was trying to remember if they had been out that morning as she reached to unlock her car door.
The movement was much too fast for her to react. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him step out from behind the support column, where he had been hiding in the shadows. Before she could even turn her head in his direction, he was behind her and had both arms wrapped around her and his hand clamped down on her mouth.
She tried to scream but only succeeded in dropping her keys. Terror and confusion tore through her as she felt him pressing her to his body. His arms were like stone, his body unmovable. He was like a snake, the more she struggled, the tighter he constricted around her. His hand covered her mouth, sealing it shut, and she could only breath through her nose. Her cries for help were muffled and didn't sound human.
Finally, exhausted and on the verge of fainting, she stopped fighting him and let her arms fall limply to her sides. She needed her wits and strength. They both stood deathly still in the shadows of the parking garage, the only sound was her heavy breathing.
His face was pressed into the side of her head. She could feel his breath in her hair. There was no sign of him releasing his grip on her. Time had slowed to a crawl. She concentrated on her breathing, working to get it under control while waiting to feel him relax his hold on her.
In her ear, in a a low, even voice he finally spoke, "I'm not going to hurt you." She began struggling again, quickly using what little energy she had left. She was left barely standing, his arms and body holding her up. If he let go, she would collapse onto the ground.
They continued to stand there for seconds, minutes, she had no way of knowing. She had nothing left to give and she realized she was at his mercy now. Her head fell back against his shoulder. His mouth was still at her ear and he spoke again in that same low, even voice, "I'm not going to hurt you." There was a long pause and she didn't move. "If you understand me, shake your head," his lips brushed against her ear. Weakly, she nodded her head up and down.
She felt his hand loosen its grip against her mouth. Her head was still slumped back but she didn't have the energy to lift it from his shoulder. Carefully, his fingers slid away from her bruised lips and gently traced down her chin. They came to rest lightly around her throat, and she knew he could grip it quickly and tightly if he so desired.
With her mouth free, she was able to take deep breaths, her chest heaving with the exertion. She became acutely aware of her breast brushing against his arm that was clasping her neck. His other still clutched her waist, his strong hand pressed against her belly, keeping her pinned against his body.
She could feel the lean hardness of his form against her. He was taller than her but not by much, and had wrapped himself around her, binding her to him. She focused on his breathing in her ear and soon their breaths were coming in unison. She was no longer gripped by terror and her body relaxed, molding itself against him.
The fingers against her throat slowly, ever so lightly, began caressing her skin in small circles. She could feel electric tingles running through her traitorous body. When he pressed his lips to her ear and gave her lobe a gentle tug with his teeth, she gasped.
Her breathing came harder again, not because of fright but because she was responding to him in a way she didn't understand. Suddenly, every nerve ending was finely tuned to his touch and each one was inundating her with raw shivers.
The fingers that were teasing and tickling her throat made their way down her chest, taking their time. They delighted in inflicting sweet agony upon her skin, causing white-hot sparks to blaze all the way to her core. His hand moved to her blouse and she could feel a button being undone. She held her breath as another button popped open and then she took one jagged gasp as his hand moved inside her shirt, cupping her breast over top of her bra.
He paused, waiting to feel her reaction. Reflexively, her back arched and pushed herself farther into his hand. As though he had been given permission, he slid his fingers inside her bra and began a slow onslaught of torment upon her nipple. He let his thumb glide over the hardening bud repeatedly until it ached and then he flicked the tip with his finger. Hard. She cried out, more from the surprise than the jolt of pain it gave her. It was a sensation she felt all the way down to that deep, sensual pit below her stomach. For the first time she felt her aroused dampness in her panties. "This can't be happening," she thought. "This isn't who I am."
Confusion allowed fright to well up inside her again and she attempted to lunge away from him. The arm around her waist had never lessened its grip so she didn't get far. In one swift motion he spun her around and pushed her hard against her car, pinning her between his lean body and her vehicle. He had her wrists in each of his hands and his pelvis pressed into her stomach. One of his knees was between her legs, causing her skirt to ride up her thighs. She was trapped.
His head hovered just inches above hers and she looked up to see his face for the first time. Her wild-eyed gawk was met with dark, smoldering eyes. The shadows accentuated his chiseled cheekbones, straight nose and strong, cut jaw line. Unruly waves of onyx hair framed his face. His mouth was full and sensual and she wondered briefly what it would feel like to have it on her body. She swallowed hard, driving the thought from her miscreant mind.
Perhaps she stared at his mouth a little too long because she saw a sneer flicker briefly across his lips and then he was roughly shoving both of her hands behind her body, immobilizing them between herself and her car. Once his hands were free, one crept to her throat again. She could feel his fingers pressing into her flesh. The other hand went to her long, blonde hair and wrapped it around his fist, holding it tightly against the nape of her neck. He now had total control of her head.
He tugged her hair, forcing her head back and exposing her neck to him. He dipped his face close to her and inhaled deeply, his eyes closed as he drank in her fresh, delicate scent.
She held her breath in wary anticipation, knowing she was at the edge of a precipice and at any moment she was going to have to decide whether or not to step off. There would be no going back. "Please, I can't do this. Don't make me do this," she pleaded with him in her head, her lips remaining silent. But, as he finally pressed his mouth to her skin, her body betrayed her.
He kissed down her neck, gently at first, causing her skin to overheat. As he tasted her, his need began to build and soon he was nipping at her with soft bites, his tongue and lips assaulting her senses. The hand around her throat slid down to her blouse and the rest of the buttons were pulled roughly apart. The pinging of one dislodged button bouncing on the concrete basement floor echoed loudly through the otherwise silent parking garage.
His mouth journeyed down her chest, his tongue tracing her skin around the lacy edge of her bra. He cupped one breast with his free hand, the other still tightly wound in her hair. While exquisitely pinching and tugging on her nipple, he hooked his thumb in the top of her bra and pulled it down, letting her creamy-white flesh spill out into his waiting palm.
