Peter eyed the woman, and felt himself begin to tremble, hands closing into fists as he fought the nearly irresistible urge to throttle her on the spot.
She smiled at him, eyebrows raised archly. "What's the matter? You don't look very happy to see me."
"You're late."
"Aw, isn't that sweet? You were worried about me." Stepping forward, she touched his cheek with one hand, caressing him with the backs of her fingers. "I had to check things out and make sure that you kept your word about coming alone. For all I knew, you had backup."
"Get real. You worked at the 101st long enough to know that I never wait for backup."
Her hand kept roaming over his face and neck, and he flinched away from her burning touch. "Now, now, now," she scolded ominously. "Is that any way to treat the woman who is going to fulfill all your fantasies?"
Peter stood wordless, barely able to endure the foreignness of her touch.
"Kiss me," she ordered hoarsely, sliding her hands up over his chest and shoulders before curling them around his neck. Peter resisted the tugging on his head until she snarled, "That wasn't a suggestion, Caine! Do it!"
Closing his eyes, he allowed her to guide their lips together, but clenched his teeth against her invading tongue as it poked and prodded. Suddenly, she shoved him away and delivered a hard, stinging slap across his face, causing his vision to blur and his eyes to water.
"You're not playing the game!" Sara screamed at him, slapping his other cheek.
Peter's head rocked on his neck, but he made no move to defend himself, the rage smoldering in his breast threatening to spontaneously combust. {You have to do this. You have no choice. You have no choice.}
"I said kiss me, and this time do it right!"
Ears still ringing, Peter grabbed a handful of Sara's hair and crushed her mouth to his. He mashed his lips against hers and thrust his tongue down her throat until she gagged and gasped for air. Releasing her head, he asked with narrowed eyes, "That better?"
His sarcasm was wasted on her; she just laughed at him. "That's more like it, yeah. The rougher the better." Thrusting her pelvis against his, she unbuttoned the top two buttons of the lavender silk shirt she wore, breasts nearly spilling free of her clothing. "I'll bet your little wife is too much of a lady to let you play rough, isn't she?" She laughed derisively. "Hell, I'll bet she was even a virgin when she married you, wasn't she?" Peter's only response was to blush, and Sara laughed at him again. "After all the women you'd had, you just ate up the idea of being the first and the only, didn't you?"
He sucked in his breath sharply, again resisting the urge to snap her neck in his hands and hating himself as he thought, {She's right; she's right. I did like it that no man had ever touched Kace before, that she was mine and no one else's.} Standing rigidly, he tensely awaited Sara's next move, her palm prints showing plainly on a face flushed with rage and humiliation.
The still objective part of his brain took in and analyzed her appearance, and he was startled by the outbreak of acne on a face that previously had a flawless complexion. She was panting slightly, and the pupils of her eyes were dilated to the extent that the green irises were eclipsed. She had obviously lost weight, and was showing textbook symptoms of her addiction. {Jesus, she's high right now.}
"What are you looking at?" she snapped.
He shook his head with a start. "Nothing. It's just-just been a long time. I'm-I'm surprised to see it's you."
"You weren't so surprised when I walked in," Sara hissed suspiciously. "How did you know it was going to be me?"
{Oh, shit, think, Peter, think!} He took a deep, steadying breath and answered calmly, "I just got to thinking about what you said about making choices, and how all I had to do was say 'yes', just once, and all this would have been avoided. You-you were the only 'no' I could remember." He shrugged one shoulder, an unconscious imitation of his father. {She either buys this or she doesn't.}
"Aren't you lucky it was me and not some guy?"
Peter laughed mirthlessly. "Lucky, yeah, that's me. Just bathed in luck, I am."
"Is that attitude I'm hearing again, Caine?" Storming over to the bedside phone, she snatched up the receiver and started jabbing at numbers. "One phone call is all it takes to…"
"I'm sorry, Sara, I'm sorry," Peter coaxed. "You know I'm always shooting my mouth off before I think."
She hesitated and then hung up the phone, running her gaze hungrily over his frame. "Come here."
He obediently moved forward, and when he stood next to her, she ran a finger up and down the row of buttons on his shirt. Pressing herself up against him, she kissed his jaw and throat, licking her way to his ear lobe and nipping at it.
Biting his lip, he shivered, not in desire, but with an overwhelming sense of revulsion. {God! When Kacie does this, it makes me nuts, but all I want to do right now is take a shower in disinfectant.}
Misinterpreting his body's quiverings, Sara chuckled deep in her throat and gloated, "I knew I could do things to you she never could." Wrapping her arms around Peter's head, she twisted her body toward the bed, their combined weight and awkward balance causing them to collapse together on it.
She wriggled her way on top of him, lips and tongue attacking his ear. "Touch me," she panted, capturing one of his hands and drawing it to her chest and inside her blouse, making his palm stroke her breast. "Feel me," she commanded, applying greater pressure with her own hand, moaning with pleasure and desire.
She slid up higher, straddling Peter's hips, rhythmically rubbing her throbbing heat over his unresponsive manhood and forcing one of her breasts down and into his face. "Take me in your mouth. Do it. Do it now." Tearing at her blouse, she ripped it over her head. Returning to her previous position, she thrust a hardened nipple at his mouth, repeating her command, "Do it!"
Squeezing his eyes closed, he forced his body to obey her commands, and opened his mouth to receive her offering.
Sara's pelvic rubbings increased, and she growled in frustration at his lack of arousal. "I see you need some help rising to the occasion, Caine. Let me help you."
Unbuckling his belt with frenzied haste, she clawed at the button and fly of his slacks, jerking the clothing down on his hips to expose his genitals to her mouth and hands.
Gasping, he bucked and flinched at her intrusive ministrations, her hands and mouth and teeth bringing fiery pain and not desire. He screamed involuntarily as a particularly vicious assault made him strike out, delivering a backhand blow across her face that knocked her to the floor. Doubling up in pain, he gagged helplessly as he curled into a fetal position and tried to keep from vomiting.
Screaming like one possessed, Sara staggered to her feet and stood swaying. "Damn you! Damn you! I'll see you in hell before I'll tell you where your wife is. I'll see…I'll see…" Her tirade broke off abruptly.
Still busy with his pain, Peter was only dimly aware of a dull thud and the staccato beat of heels and head against the floor.
"God! Ah-h, God!" he groaned, waiting for the black spots dancing before his eyes to either claim him as its own or to bring the room back into focus.
The door to the room crashed inward as it was kicked open. Peter's instincts took over, and he slid off the bed to put it between himself and the unknown intruder. As he fell, the side of his head slammed into the corner of the bedside table, and a white light exploded into a fireworks display. The colors faded to black, and he knew no more.