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I feel the strength of his hand on my neck. His other hand brushes through my hair and then grips a handful. He pulls, gently and I tilt my head back, presenting my throat to him. I gasp as I feel his cock slide in, just an inch. I want more. I want it all but I'm utterly under his control.
    He asks again. His voice is low, dangerous. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I'm tiling my hips, involuntarily. I just want him inside me. He slides in another inch and then his lips brush my throat.
    "Yes," I whisper and then he slides inside me. He grips my hair and fucks me hard and fast. My skirt is pulled up around my waist. My blouse is open.
    I can feel my orgasm building with each stroke. His grip on my hair is pain and pleasure entwined.
    His eyes glowing gold, his teeth sharp and deadly ... he growls mine and I come, my pussy clenching around his cock, screaming and panting but he doesn't slow down. He speeds up, pounding into me, faster and faster until I feel him come inside me. His muscles tighten, his teeth close on the side of my neck and the bite is pain and pleasure once more.
    And then I'm back in my room, the vibrator buzzing against my clit, my heart pounding. My eyes are closed and in my imagination Red is still on top of me, his thick cock inside me. I can feel it throbbing in time with his heartbeat.
    I turned the vibrator off but kept holding it against me. The road trip hangover had well and truly caught up with me and the orgasm sealed the deal. I felt myself getting sleepy but the image of Red was vibrating in my mind. I haven't seen him with his shirt off but I've felt the strength of his body against mine. To have such a man in my bed. To have such a man between my legs.
    I turned the vibrator back on.
    Oh, what the hell. Just one more time.
    *
    I woke up in the afternoon from a confusing mix of dreams:
    Red behind me (hot and awesome), the wide open spaces (calming), driving forever (ugh).
    It was just past four in the afternoon and the clear day had turned dark and cold. The sky was pale gray and ominous storm clouds were rolling toward me. I opened the door for all of five seconds before the first splatter of rain hit and within a minute it was pouring down and the wind was howling through the trees.
    The nap (and orgasms) and done me good and while the storm thrashed outside, I made myself a coffee, turned on my laptop and wrote a bit more of my novel outline. I'd started it on the night of the will reading. Soon I slipped into creative daze of writing and before I knew it, two hours had passed. The storm had eased off a little (from crazy drench-you-to-the-bone-in-five-seconds to crazy drench-you-to-the-bone-in-thirty-seconds) and the wind howling through the trees had gone from angry to just mournful.
    Even with the storm it was peaceful out here. I felt calm.
    This evaporated in an instant as someone pounded on the front door.
    Thud. Thud. Thud.
    I went from calm to panic. This was it. Some madman was here to murder me and burying my body in an unmarked grave. Or maybe a marked grave with my finger bones nailed to a tree to show the way.
    "Harper? You in there?"
    It was Red.
    With the sound of his voice came an almost overwhelming relief. I fixed up my wrinkled clothes, rehearsed an opening line (Hi Red, how are you?) and opened the door. He wasn't dripping wet as I expected and I was surprised to see his truck parked nearby. He must have driven up and I was so lost in the writing daze that I didn't hear it.
    My opening line died in my throat when I saw the gash on the side of his face and the blood down the side of his neck.
    "It's okay, it's okay. A tree fell down as I was driving up here. Caught a branch in the face through the window."
    "But you're bleeding!"
    Thank you Captain Obvious. And it's raining too.
    "Don't worry about it. Can I come in?"
    I nodded and stepped back to let him inside. He was trickling blood from the cut but seemed rather unconcerned. I shut the door behind him and