Posted by hisdinner on December 02, 2004 at 21:03:47:
Chapter 5
Martin's lips brushed against Allie's ear. "What do you want, Allie?" His body pinned hers tight against the side of the car. "Why are you here?"
She winced as he pressed her backward. What did she want? Allie shook her head.
"Martin?"
He would not yield. He laid the flat of the blade against the pulse at Allie's throat. He watched his blade rise and fall as the blood surged beneath her skin.
"Yes?" He kept the pressure on; he was relentless.
"Martin?" She felt the steel. "If you're going to kill me, please don't make it hurt so much. I only—- I only wanted you." Allie shuddered. Her hands were balled into tight fists.
"Aw, Christ, Allie!" Martin pulled himself away from her. He threw the knife. It flew from his hand and clattered against the far wall of the garage. She wrapped her arms around herself and cowered against the car.
"Guess I'll be going then." Allie stared at her feet and walked past Martin into the house.
She was stuffing clothes into her backpack when Martin stopped her. He gripped her shoulders from behind. Allie stiffened, held her breath. He leaned in and said, "Listen. Listen. You know what I am."
Her fists tightened around a sweater, her knuckles white. He could feel her body trembling. She nodded. "Yes."
"But you came back." She nodded again. She didn't understand it herself.
"You make me crazy, Allie." He took her shoulders, turned her slowly, lifted her chin. All those nights she begged for more, what was that?
"You make me crazy, too," she said. "I don't know what I want, Martin! Do I want you to eat me? God! That's a lot to ask, you know. A lot to get my mind around. I sort of wanted to date you, first. And stuff."
The moment stretched out between them; Allie bit her lip. Martin's eyes sparked furious heat, but then he blinked. "Date me first?" He shook his head. Allie realized that she could breathe again.
Martin rolled his eyes; he managed a grin. "And stuff, hm?" He leaned in and licked a tear from her cheek. She shivered but moved closer to him, her body curving tight to his. He ran his hands down from her face and began kneading her neck with his fingertips. He shook his head. She looked up at him, questioning.
"Tell you what." He was still grinning, but it cost him more.
She put her arms around his waist. "What?"
"I'll settle for take-out."
She scrutinized his face. "Seriously?"
He pulled her onto the bed with him and kissed her. "I think so."
Allie shook her head, eyes widening. "You don't know?"
Martin sighed. "You need to understand, Allie. What I want, when I want a woman-" His voice was low and hoarse.
"It's always like that? You want the whole-- thing?" she asked.
"Yeah."
They slumped apart on the bed, sagging into themselves. They studied each other's faces. Allie caught herself nodding. What was she doing, acknowledging? She wondered if she was saying yes. Martin wondered, too.
The phone rang. Allie flinched. Martin let the machine pick up the call. They didn't move from their spots, inches apart, or miles; it was so hard to tell. Allie shifted her gaze from Martin's eyes; she glanced at the phone and broke the spell. Martin slipped his fingers around her wrist, gently stilling her. They listened. Martin's fingers were hot on Allie's skin.
"Yeah, this is Graham. We need you yesterday, call me back. It's worth double if you can do this, Marty. By 9 pm tonight. Call me."
They heard the click. Allie cleared her throat. "What does he want?"
Martin studied her face a moment longer before he spoke. "Come with me. See for yourself. See if—" he cut himself off and started again, sounding a little forced. "Road trip. What do you say?" He dropped her wrist and stood.
"Do you have to go?" Allie pictured that last motel, that muffled sound of flesh striking porcelain. She watched him grab his bag, his knives.
Martin nodded. "Graham's boss is my best customer. You think about it while I round up my stuff." He bent down and kissed her forehead; she caught his hand.
"Wait." Allie pulled him back to the bed and before he could protest, she had tugged down his pants, wriggled her body next to his. She knelt there, suckling him. She pushed him down against the bed when he tried to sit up, when he tried to caress her. She shook her head, she was relentless, and soon his hands were entwined in her hair. She fed so eagerly, he was amazed. He used her hard.
They lay there afterward; the sun dropped low against the hillside. Allie was tucked into the crook of Martin's arm, one hand on his chest. Martin looked down at her hair and up at the ceiling. This girl, he thought. Makes me crazy.
"Coming with me?" He asked.
"I am. Yes," Allie answered. It was easier not to meet his gaze. She nuzzled into his chest and whispered, "What are we doing?"
"You mean for Graham?"
She shook her head.
"You mean about everything."
"Yes." Her voice was muffled, she spoke into his chest.
Martin pulled her up so that she rested on his chest, so that he could look directly into her eyes. "We ride it out, Allie. We take the whole trip. We go just as far as we can."
Allie felt a shock rush through her, listening to him, looking into his eyes. Those eyes. Now she understood mesmerizing.
"Okay." Her voice was tiny, but she held his gaze.
"Allie." Do you know what you're saying? He wouldn't ask aloud.
She kissed him hard, and nodded, and kissed him again, shivered and smiled.
They pulled out of town at dusk, heading west. Allie turned on the radio.
"…from the Ponderosa Hills area early this morning. Anyone knowing the whereabouts of the Daniels girl is asked to call the police hotline at-"
Allie changed to an oldies station. They were playing "Werewolf of London." She smirked and poked Martin in the arm.
His eyebrows shot up. "What?"
"Arrrooo! Werewolves of London!" She sang along. He looked relieved.
After an hour they turned off the highway and onto a winding mountain road. It was full dark, somewhere outside Tahoe. Allie looked out the window, inhaled the pine scent, and swallowed down little jots of fear that rose up from her belly. If she'd been home (funny how Martin's house was home already) she would have run a few miles, or made love to him.
"You ok?" He ran his hand up and down her thigh.
"Yes. But what happens next?" She watched Martin drive. She thought if she could just picture it, prepare, she could handle almost anything.
"Trust me. This is something special. You might like it. I want you to."
Allie nodded, nervously squeezing his hand. Like it? She was pretty sure she loved him. Allie knew everything one minute, and the next, she was so unsure.
Martin slalomed through the curves, then slowed. The road widened into the parking area of a rambling lodge. Yellow light spilled onto the driveway. Someone stood at the open door, waving them inside. It was Graham, and he was wired.
"Time to spare, thanks, Marty. Knew I could count on you." He guided them into a sitting room off the foyer. The ceiling rose to a peak above massive log beams. There was a fire crackling in a stone hearth. Pine boughs festooned the mantelpiece. Graham handed them each a snifter of brandy and left the room.
Allie and Martin sat on a leather couch. Allie wound a strand of hair around her finger, sitting forward, basking in the fire. Where were the thugs, she wondered. Where was the screaming girl? Martin leaned back and sipped his brandy and watched the play of Allie's muscles beneath her silky sweater as she fidgeted with her hair. Beautiful. She turned and smiled at him, about to ask what would happen next, when Graham returned.
"He's ready for you, Martin." Graham tilted his head toward Allie, eyebrows up.
"I want her along. The old man won't even notice, Graham."
"If Mr. Smith notices her, he's likely to-" Martin shook his head. A look passed between the men, and Graham pressed his lips together. "Will you be staying the night here, then?"
"I finish in the morning?"
Graham nodded. Martin said, "Sure."
Allie gave up trying to follow the exchange. Graham escorted Allie and Martin to a set of double doors and left them. He winked at Allie and held a finger to his lips. Allie gripped Martin's hand tight enough to make him wince. They entered a room with high peaked ceiling and roaring fire, much like the first.
There was a couple making love in front of the fire. The girl, twenty-something, lay face up on a high bed, maybe a massage table? The man, Mr. Smith, was considerably older, but vigorous. He knelt between her thighs and thrust hard into her, grunting. She seemed to be bound to the table by leather straps around her ankles and upper arms. Zings of shocky pleasure surprised Allie as she watched the two.
Martin led Allie to a couch very close to the lovers. They seemed oblivious. The girl's face was obscured by glossy dark hair; her head turned to face the fire. Her skin was dappled with reflected firelight. Three cameras were aimed at the lovers, and their red lights were blinking. Shooting a porno? Allie sat deeper in the couch, taking in everything. Stranger and stranger.
Martin donned a black hood and a pair of tight leather gloves. Allie almost giggled at the sight of him. Her nerves twanged harder by the second. Martin kept his eyes on the couple. Allie was startled when Smith paused in his lovemaking, turned and gestured to Martin, and then smoothly resumed his thrusts. How long had he known they were there? Allie was blushing. She'd been caught watching the two of them. But of course Smith had known-- this was the guy who had hired Martin to –what? What was he going to do? The girl cooed and gasped. Was she drunk? Drugged? She seemed lethargic compared to her partner. But so gorgeous. Allie thought it was all very erotic, the fire and the bonds and the cameras, even Martin's hood; it made him look like a medieval demon. But she was extremely uncomfortable. What were they doing here? Was she expected to join in? Allie hung back, sinking deeper into the sofa.
Martin motioned for her to stay put. He moved to the head of the table. The girl's head was at the table's edge. Smith had reared back above her. Even when Martin reached the girl, she didn't turn to look at him. Finally, the girl shifted her head and Allie understood. She wore a blindfold. Oh my. Allie felt her stomach clench; a heat begin to build in her.
Martin glanced down at the girl but kept an eye on Mr. Smith. Smith was about to explode inside the girl; Allie sat forward on the couch. What was Martin doing? Martin's hands had disappeared, and his whole body bent and then suddenly straightened, and then he arched backward, and somehow, the girl arched upward, too. They moved in tandem. Allie felt a wave of jealousy toward the girl. She watched Martin and the girl and Smith. A threesome? Martin was straining backward, tense, teeth bared. Smith was plowing deep into the girl. Allie squinted, edged closer. Martin had wound a black cord around his hands and twice around the girl's neck. He was strangling her!
Smith gripped the girl's hips and spent himself, lunging and pounding as he watched Martin strain back with the cord and keep it taut around her neck. Smith shuddered between the girl's thighs as her body jittered and her cries changed from purry whimpers to gurgling moans. Allie watched the cords of muscle stand out on Martin's arms as he killed the girl. She couldn't look away. Then the girl was finally silent, and Martin's hands relaxed, and Mr. Smith fell away from her. The cameras whirred. Smith stood, pulled on a robe and tied it, never taking his eyes from the dead girl. He hadn't said a word. No one had. It was like a dream, Allie thought. She stared at Martin's hands. She thought maybe she wanted to feel them around her neck. Allie shook herself and waited. She was afraid to make a sound.
Martin stepped back, leaving the cord loose around the dead girl's neck. Mr. Smith sighed, reached up and slipped the blindfold from her eyes. He kissed her mouth. Smith's back was turned as Martin joined Allie on the couch.
Martin was breathing hard. He stroked Allie's hair and pulled her close, and whispered, "He needs some time alone now." Martin pulled Allie up and out of the room. Smith had bent over the girl. He was kissing her eyelids as Martin closed the doors behind them.
Graham met the two outside the door. His mouth was closed tight over a dozen questions. He took them to a bedroom on the second floor. "Anything you need before morning, call me." He closed the door. Martin and Allie were alone.
Martin pulled Allie tight to him and peered into her face. "You didn't run away this time," he said. Their bodies fit so perfectly, even standing there.
"Martin..oh." Allie covered her confusion with a kiss, hungry, searching his mouth with her tongue, trying to sort out what she had seen and how she felt.
"Did she know?" Allie pressed against him as he walked them backwards to the bed.
"Yes." He pulled off her clothes and his. His mouth was on her neck, her breast. Allie stroked his back, pulled him tight, fell onto the bed with him.
"Did she want him to?" Allie felt Martin's teeth graze her nipple.
"She did." Martin looked at Allie beneath him, her arms splayed wide, welcoming.
"When you took her. Oh, Martin. I wanted--"
"What did you want, Allie?" He lowered his mouth to taste her. Picked up her wrist, nuzzled it.
"I wanted to be her. Seriously. Soon. I think."
Martin bit her hard, and blood welled up from her pale white skin. "You don't know?"
Allie felt more fire than ice inside her. She whimpered. "Yes," she said.