Lust is often mistaken for love, especially when alcohol is involved. Yet Candy could not begin to describe the intensity of the feelings that Jonathon instilled within her. Beyond the sensuality that thrills her, beyond the fascination that compels her; there is a hunger – a need. In a few short minutes, which seem to stretch to infinity, she has become addicted to his presence. He is a drug and she is the junky, desperate to maintain the connection. She has never known anyone like him before.
He leans towards her, kisses her neck and gently runs his tongue and teeth across her skin. A shiver courses her body, a dull ache calls in her vagina. A need to be possessed by him, body and soul.
Almost in a dream state she sees the stranger before her, realises slowly that he screams at her. He tells her of evil and of the beast. He tells her of God. He points out a killer. A destroyer. But she does not heed his words; she clings tighter to her love. The angel in a black silk shirt. Jonathon will protect her from the crazy man. She will love him always. She will offer him everything and give unto him all that he wants.
His arms motion and suddenly the crazy man is gone and, in an instant, forgotten.
He is not her love, she realises, he is her very life.
He leans to her and whispers, “Let’s get out of here.”
She nods, and her passion builds to a fever within her. Her body gleams with the sweat of need. The fire within has blazed out of control.
***
Suddenly being the hero is no longer easy. Perhaps Paul had expected her to look up and see the horror with eyes he had just opened. Instead she just clung tighter to the beast, lost; the wings of innocence are clipped and burnt.
And the Beast did not even look at him, just used his hand to motion with his finger. All the time his eyes burned into hers.
A jerk. It takes a moment for Paul to realise that he is being pulled, rough hands dragging him towards the dark recesses of the bathroom. He is thrown hard into a cubicle, secluded and isolated from the herd, and then the pain burns into his stomach and face. He glimpses leather and fists flashing as he falls. Heavy boots kick into him. The pain becomes so intense and then it moves full circle and he no longer feels it, then no longer focuses and, in the blackness, he is alone.
© 1990 & 2006 Andrew M Boylan
