Copyright by me

2017

No copycopy allowed unless I say so.

This is a romantic crime story sort-of

Enjoy

Chapter 1
Passion Triangle

The room had series of smell in the air when you enter: there were jasmine, rose and musk. There were clothes on the floor and a pointy shoe laid on the sofa like it was a forgotten item. It was warm but also chilly in the room. You would think nothing of this room and its seemingly bare walls until you let your glance move away from the dull walls to the redness of the bedding.
It was red satin, and it wasn’t the only noticeable thing on the bed.

There were two bodies, one with sensuous curves and the other had toned muscles. Long velvety legs were entwined with muscles thighs with fine black hair. Excited arms were folded into each other with passion and submission. The passion running through their veins showed itself in the sounds that were coming from their guts.

Even Natasha Bedingfield bore her hearts out through the speakers of the disc player on the chest of drawers at the far end of the room. She seemed not to have that much impact on these entwined souls.

The dim lighting of the room caused shadows to lay themselves on the bare walls. It was such an enchanting dimness caused by the candles in the candelabras that emitted jasmine into the air.

“Oh baby, did I tell you how good you smell?” the muscled-one asked as he sniffed the rose-smelling sweat of the curvy one.

“Hmmm…yeah, I remember a few grunts a while ago. But shut up and don’t ruin the moment.”

“Oh my gosh,” she went as she twisted her waist and grabbed his shoulder with assured grasps.

“Oh yea, like that huh? You like that, baby?” he asked as he raised his waist to intensify her arousal.

He wondered if it was right for her to be on top but the feel of her skin on his felt so good that he wished things were going to end differently that night. He stared at her as her eyes rolled up in sexual satisfaction. Her pale skin gleaned with sweat as her wavy hair stuck snugly to her neck. Her round firm breasts were pointing at him with nipples in erect position. He felt so good inside of him that he wished he would move things around for her, if only he could.

He made her burn inside with such great passion that he had never had in a very long while. He had had many in his past but this was beginning to feel like a whole new experience for him and he wished for many more to come, if only wishes were like horses.

He turned her at that moment and she squirmed under him, they both let out a knowing sigh. She knew it was about to happen and something inside her froze. Her brain went into a ‘not now, yes now’ mode but her body was too hot to care at that moment. She wanted him, it had to be him. It was a space that she had yearned for and it was time, no going back. All other sentiments were to be left where her common senses couldn’t reach.

“Be gentle, “she pleaded as he twisted. He kissed her and whispered incoherent words caused by he heightened state of his loin. Soon they were lost, maybe écsatcee made a rubbery invention for situations like that but the duo were too far into it to care or remember. There were sweet pains, guilty pleasures awaiting them. And then there was also redness, a memory left on the already colourful sheet.

“Oh, oh, it hurts but it doesn’t,” she moaned amidst jabs of little pain.

“I am sorry…hmm… should I stop. I can stop. Oh I want to stop but I can’t seem to do it, baby,” he replied as he slowed down his thrusts. He loaded himself inside her; a sticky awareness that said what was hers was no longer hers.

“Oh my gosh!”

“I am sorry, baby,” he said as he ran his fingers over her firm butt.

“I’m okay. I just want to take a few seconds,” she replied. It was lost and he had taken it or had she given it to him?

Tears gathered in her eyes but she fought it back as hard as she could, what was done was done. It was time for the hard part; all grieving will have to wait.
She lifted herself in her discomfort at the awkward position she was and he rolled off her. She stared at the ceiling for a little while, trying to find another emotion to replace the one she was starting to feel. Ten….twenty… and nothing came; she sighed and then got off the bed.

The bottle of champagne lay on the vanity chest and she turned to stare at him before opening the bottle. He jeered and stretched with contentment as he nodded in excitement at the coming goody. She turned her back at him as she poured the drinks, which she later took to him on the bed.

“Aren’t you going to clean yourself up,” he asked as he leaned on his elbows.

“I will but I just need to get this down there,” she said as she handed him his drink. She went back for the whole bottle. When she turned to return back to the bed, he had his usual smirk on his face. It was the smile of satisfaction and ego that had become a known part of him. She put the bottle beside the bed and then tucked her hair back into a bun with a rubber-band.

“Thanks baby. There isn’t a better time for a nice glass of bubbles,” he said jokingly.
He ran his hand through his spiky chest hair before collecting the drink from her. He then took a few sips and offered her a cigarette from a park that had miraculously appeared in his hand as if carefully tucked away nearby. She smiled deeply at him before taking the offered cigarette. He lit another one for himself as he gulped the whole glass, his eyes glued to hers. A pleasurable smile crept up her face and she patted his face before putting out the cigarette.

“What’s wrong, baby? Its red Marlboro,” he said as he poured himself another drink. She stretched her neck before bending down to rub off a trail of blood that was going down her thighs. She stared at it and finally dropped it into a corner of her bag that lay on the floor near the bed stand.

He watched her every move with a look of wonder and suspicion, he then lit the cigarette again and offered to hold it for her while she smoked. She smiled and collected the cigarette and walked towards the bathroom. After a backward glance at him as the cigarette made its way to her mouth, she closed the bathroom door after her.

In the bathroom, she dropped the lit cigarette by the wash-hand basin and got under the shower. The water felt good as it made its way down her body, cleaning every crevice and corner. She longed to stay under the trickle but she knew she had to go back to him. She sighed carefully and counted to twenty before getting out of the shower. And with the now half-burnt cigarette in her hand, she stepped out.

He still had his glass in his hand, by the look of the bottle; he had helped himself to more of the bubbly goodness. But his smile was gone; it was now replaced with the look of a man in discomfort. His hand was on his tummy as he made raspy sounds.

“How do you feel?” she asked as she leaned on the bathroom door, cigarette suspended in the air.

“It is nothing, baby. Guess that was a huge load I passed into you, huh?” he laughed as he shifted, his face giving off clear signs of discomfort.

“Are you sure you are okay?” she asked again, this time with a firmer voice. Why was he still talking? Had she done something wrong? Those were the questions going through her mind at that moment.

“Don’t worry about me. I don’t …” his eyes went round at that moment. He dropped the champagne glass in his hand and the content spilled on the bed. He grabbed his stomach with both his hands and let out a loud sigh. What he was feeling was familiar to him but the circumstances weren’t. No, she couldn’t have done it, he thought. There was no way she could have, his mind kept telling him.

She moved to sit on the bedside drawer and stared down at him. Then the evil hit him strongly. It started as a small cough and then it ended with raspy breath and choky feeling. He tossed and turned, throat on fire and fingers clutching at her toes as he rolled off the bed. It dawned on him then, that she had done what he thought she couldn’t.

“You…you…. Frigging bitch…” this was not always the last words of such a strong willed hunk of a guy, but passion wasn’t always what it portrays herself to be.

The lady watched as he struggled to get to her feet again but she knew it was the futile hope of a dying man. He wouldn’t hurt anyone again, she thought, and she loved seeing him in such a helpless state. But somehow, she still waited. She waited for the guilt to come sipping into her conscience but nothing came, she smiled to herself.

“I wouldn’t fight it if I were you. Lie down and let me stroke your crotch,” she jeered and kicked him off her feet. The blood flowed from the corner of his lips and he stopped moving but tried to lean on the side of the bed.

“You bitch! You are so dead… so you have it… in you... you LovePeddler,” he said as he gave her a stony smile.

“Baby, save your breath. Shouldn’t you be praying? But since you are not likely going to heaven, how about you let me give you a head,” she replied.

“I will… wait for… you over there,” he replied with teeth showing in its full redness.

She laughed out loud before quickly covering her mouth. She then smiled at him as he dropped the cigarette butt in a paper before folding it away and tucking it in her bag.

“I know when not to smoke, darling, especially when it’s been poisoned.”

“Bitch… you think… you are smart, huh? … you are just a ….cheap piece of garbage…” he said amidst bloody bouts of coughs.

She smiled as she blew a kiss in his direction and thanked him for the compliment. He laughed and winked at her as he curled into a tight ball. Minutes later, he wet very still.

She stood up and stared out of the window and looked into the sky. There were tears; passionate tears that couldn’t be kept in any longer. She had been strongly attached to him but love was a bitch and had a way of turning things around in a negative way. She picked up the glass-cups and the bottle. She then gathered her things and stood looking down at the body of the man she had once had strong feelings for.

Greater good, she thought, there was always a greater good that had to be done by someone and that person was her. She dressed up hurriedly and wiped out the room and everything she had touched. A last look at the room brought a sigh out of her and then a hiss as she walked out of the room.

The body of the man fell to the side and his bloody palm opened, a shiny red 4-stoned ring fell off his hand to roll under the chest of drawers. He managed to pick up his phone and dialled a number.

“Plea..se. come …. Now….the champagne…” But life was too much in a haste to leave so it just bade him goodbye and left.