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with me for the night and was a little put out that I
refused,” she explained.
    “It’s not safe here.  Is
there nowhere you can spend the night?”
    “Please don’t concern
yourself with me,” she said quietly.  “I’ll be fine.”
    “I can’t leave you here,”
John protested.
    “I’m not your concern,” she
insisted.
    “Look, it’s too deserted
here.  At least let me take you somewhere the shops are open all night or somewhere
there are other people around.”
    She looked at him and then at
the gun he still held in his hand.  Hastily, he slipped it behind him and into
his waistband, out of sight.
    “I don’t want to go to
anywhere noisy.  I’m desperately tired—I need somewhere quiet where I can get
some sleep.”
    “If you sleep here you’re
likely to end up raped or murdered,” he told her flatly, finally losing
patience.  All he wanted was a shower and his bed.  But he would toss and turn
all night if he left her here.  If anything happened to her he would never
forgive himself.
    “And how do I know that
you’re not a rapist or a murderer?” she asked.
    “You don’t.”  He felt surprised
that she could think him capable of harming her.  But, he reasoned, most
serial killers were persuasive smooth talkers.
    “I’m sorry, that was rude of
me,” she apologized.  “It’s been a long day.”
    “Look, my wife’s not home,
but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you coming home with me for a bite to eat and a
shower,” John offered.  He wouldn’t get a wink of sleep if he had to think of
her out here on her own, prey to thieves, rapists or murderers.
    “Your wife must really trust
you.”
    “She’ll be fine once I’ve
explained the situation to her.”
    “In that case I think I’d
like to accept.  Thank you.”
    Abruptly she turned and
headed towards his parked car.  Hurrying, he overtook her and held the door
open.  He closed it once she was safely seated.  When he came around the car he
was pleasantly surprised to find that she had leaned over and was politely holding
his door open for him.
    He thanked her as he fastened
his seat belt.
    “Normally, I wouldn’t dream
of trusting a stranger, but....” she broke off.
    “You are perfectly safe with
me,” he assured her.
    They drove in complete
silence—the woman immediately tipped her head back against the headrest and fell
asleep within a minute of him pulling away from the kerb.  She hadn’t lied
about being exhausted.
    He shook her gently when he
had parked the car in the garage and switched off the engine.  “We’re here.”
    “Are you sure this will be
okay?”  Revived from her short nap she didn’t seem keen on the idea.
    “Look, do you want me to call
my wife and check first?”
    “No, don’t do that,” she
begged him hastily.  “It’s late.  I don’t think she would appreciate being
awoken from her sleep. I just don’t want you to get into any trouble.”
    “My wife and I have been
married for six years.  I think she knows me well enough by now.”
    “Sorry to seem so
ungrateful.”  Clutching her small bag she made to open the door, but he quickly
reached around her and opened it.
    Once again her hot, musky scent
filled his nostrils.  It was her perfume, he realized.  It wasn’t unpleasant,
just stronger than his wife’s subtle floral scent.  But then, his wife was a
cool blonde; this woman was a fiery redhead—the kind he’d secretly fantasized
about when he had masturbated as a young man.
    ***
    H e imagined her in the shower washing
that curtain of red hair that fell to her waist.  He had given her one of his
bathrobes to wear after her shower—giving her one of Helen’s wouldn’t have been
right.
    His cock was harder than it had
been in ages.  His face was hot, flushed with desire.
    God, he hoped she wouldn’t
notice the state he was in!
    Getting up, he fiddled with
the place settings.  She had been obviously hungry but had insisted on having a
bath first, saying that