Dance Of Desire Read Online Free

fucking all night.
    Then, she… she couldn’t recall…!
    H-How’d I get home? I went out with the girls. We partied at that cool club and… and….
    She felt fear growing inside her and she wanted to panic. Cassie tugged down her skirt and rearranged her breasts in order to cover herself even though she was completely alone. The bra was so messed up that she threw on a sweatshirt. Halfway clothed again, she still wanted to panic. But she took deep, slow breaths and tried to be logical.
    She tried to figure out how she’d gotten from way across town all the way back to her apartment without remembering it. She tried hard, but only remembered sitting back down at the table with her drunken, happy girlfriends after dancing with that gorgeous, hot guy she’d been flirting with.
    No…! That’s just not it.
    He’d come back for her and she’d stood, his strong arm looping around her, his touch sending electrical shocks of joy, lust and amazement.
    And then… and then… Cassie didn’t remember past that moment! A silent, primal shudder coursed through her spine like cold fingers tipped with long, pointed nails.
    No, it can’t be.
    She realized she really had to piss so she finally made her way into the bathroom to sit down, slowly, and pee. Slowly. Because it hurt like hell.
    Her breasts hurt, too. The nipples were painfully sensitive and felt abused.
    She gingerly tugged the sweatshirt up and off, then gazed at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. Her breasts looked tortured, reddened and bruised in the bright bathroom light. She gazed downward at her crotch. Her thighs looked red on some spots, too. She was tender all over.
    She began trembling. Cassie tried not to sob but she sniffled anyway and wracked her brain to remember.
    What could have happened last night to leave her in this wretched condition? But she had no more good fortune with her memory than before.
    She did remember the man, her man, nameless, exotic, and dangerous but not a rapist. Not a maniac.
    But how could she be sure? Would she know what a rapist looked like in real life? Looking in the mirror at her appearance again, she looked like a doll three hysterical toddlers had fought over.
    She washed her face and fought for calmness.
    Who to call? Who… Lauren! She rushed outside and grabbed the phone. She called Lauren.
    “Wh-What? Wh-Who’s this? Oh, Cassie.” Lauren half-muted the phone to talk with her roommate. “No, Anne. It’s Cassie. Don’t talk so damn loud, woman. You’re up already, C? It’s only noon-ish. Ah, not even.”
    Since Lauren was still in bed, Cassie kept her questions straightforward.
    Laurie’s answers were fairly clear in return. “No, C, you didn’t leave with him. That gorgeous creature did catch you when you passed out, though. He carried you out for us, and held you until we got a cab. Hey, Anne, wasn’t that cabby the most asexual person you’ve ever seen? He’s male but he’s just so gorgeous and lovely. Oh, don’t tell me to shut—Ow! My head—up.”
    She listened for a while until Lauren could talk clearly again.
    “All us girls brought you home, C. Just us. Not him. Left him standing all sad-eyed and gorgeous on the curb. We drove off and he disappeared back into the club, I guess. You, well, we, well, you was, um, were too drunk to go with him and you were awake. Kinda. But kept mumbling gibberish.”
    “Like what? What was I saying?” she asked.
    “Something about, maybe, ‘Come with ushshsh.’? Or that’s the way you said it. So whatever you were thinking ’bout or dreaming, your secret’s safe. He didn’t come with us. Ah, just thinking about that hottie… all pure man, that one, and the possibilities of his cock makes me wet.”
    “And me?”
    “Least you were kind of walking, stumbling when we got back. You’re heavier than you look, d’you know that? We just dropped you on your bed and locked the door on our way out. Then we went home