It was never his intention. The night had not gone as planned. She had been a surprise the moment he'd laid eyes on her. She'd looked nothing like Ophelia, even dressed in the slinky black dress and high heels he'd requested she wear for their rendezvous. She'd submitted to his control in a way he had not experienced with Ophelia, or any of the women before his marriage to Ophelia. He'd expected something else. Someone else.
No blood would stain his hands tonight. He knew that the moment he'd laid eyes on her and it was an uncomfortable moment. He hadn't meant to be so rough with her in the beginning, but it'd been so long since a complete desire as she stirred in him earlier tonight had washed over him, but now that desire had been satiated. A darker, deeper desire began to nag at him the moment he'd exited her boudoir. He'd followed her home to quiet the stirrings of that darker desire and it had worked momentarily. It had worked as he kept a distant pace behind her little, silver car. It had worked as he parked down the street from her house and watched her in his rearview mirror and then she was gone.
The glow in the dark numbers on his cell phone read three a.m. He'd lost so much time tonight in staying with her so long, but once he buried his head in her rose scented locks, he was a man paralyzed. Just an hour he'd promised himself. One hour in his newly discovered paradise an he'd get back to work, but an hour had turned into two and then three. Now he was stranded on this park bench, the dark voices in his head muttering at his stupidity. Three hours until his father expected him to be in at the office. Three hours wasn't nearly long enough to go on a fishing expedition. Tomorrow night. It would have to wait until tomorrow night.
He abandoned his park bench for the driver's side of his GT. It was a shame he was going to have to cleanse his body of that intoxicating rose scent. It was a shame he was going to have to pretend to pay attention to his father and the other office drones all day when he had much more important matters to think of. The Gt's engine purred to life and he was steering back onto the almost deserted stretch of freeway, watching the park disappear in his rearview mirror.
He swiped his card at the double glass doors to the building his condominium was located in. The lobby was deserted unless you counted the old man who suffered a permanent insomnia and lived two stories below him, which he did not. Three young women in their twenties, dressed like the skanks they probably were, teeter tottered on drunken stilts in front of the bank of elevators. He wrinkled his nose at the sour stench of vodka and cigarettes that wafted in his direction. One of the obviously over sexed whores giggled and winked his way and then the elevator doors opened on the lobby.
Envisioning himself trapped in the elevator with the stench dripping out of their makeup caked pores made his stomach flip upside down and he just shot them a grin that must have looked more like his signature grimace. The three of them were engaged in a muttering huddle as the doors closed on them. He breathed an audible sigh of relief as the second set of doors opened to an empty elevator. He stepped inside and watched the bright green numbers countdown to the top floor, floor by floor. The elevator doors did not open during their ascent, much to his relief.
Speed walking in long strides down the length of the hall, all plush gray carpet and dim upside-down dome lighting, he reached the door to his condo. His condo was simple and neutral. Gray carpeting and charcoal colored upholstery. A fifty-three inch plasma screen television was mounted to the west wall and a high tech surround system glared at him through the glass doors of his entertainment center.
He tossed his keys and wallet on the steel topped counter that led into his kitchen before disappearing into the bathroom at the end of the narrow hallway. Undressing and folding his clothes into a neat pile on the bathroom countertop. He wanted to preserve the lingering scent of roses that still clung to the material. Her scent.
