Satan's Breath

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Satan's Breath Page 8

by Temple Madison


  She struggled, finally managing to jerk his hand away. She opened her mouth in a scream, but he quickly muffled her cry with his lips. They were soft as they covered hers in a crushing kiss. She fought him for a moment, but the longer the kiss lasted, the more she relaxed, enjoying his soft lips and muscled body. Much to her surprise, this stringy-haired, stuttering janitor was causing her body to come alive.

  When his lips slowly lifted, she was left speechless.

  “I-I’m sorry, M-Ms. Alexander, but I had to t-tell you t-that.”

  Blaze stood motionless as he moved her away from her, and then watched silently as he turned and headed toward the building. Instead of going in the front, she noticed that he walked toward the back and seemed to vanish inside a dark doorway.

  What the hell just happened, she wondered, reaching up to feel her bruised lips. She could still taste him, and feel his hard body pressing against hers. This is the limit, getting all excited over a retarded janitor.

  Suddenly, a spear of fear shot through her when she remembered that it might all be an act, and Erik Grant, with his soft lips, hard body, and spicy French cologne, could very well be the wickedest, the most evil, the most horrifying killer in Savannah’s history!

  Chapter 6

  Barry Schorr watched every move Blaze made as she jumped and kicked to the music he heard blaring out of the TV in her living room. He sat in his car smiling while her silhouette moved provocatively against the shade. “I’ll bet she’s as naked as a friggin’ jaybird,” he muttered, his gaze following her every movement.

  He fondled himself while watching her hair and tits bounce until he could hardly stand it. Finally, he picked up his cell phone and called her number. He could hear it ringing from there, and watched her click off the TV and pick it up.

  “Mmmm, lookin’ good, baby,” he whispered into the receiver.

  She hesitated for a moment, a sharp streak of fear choking her, taking her breath. She listened to the sick words being whispered in her ear, and imagined Erik’s full lips speaking them. God, it was impossible! It couldn’t be him! She’d been reasonably sure before, but after last night, the kiss, his stuttering words, then running off into the night the way he did. The parking lot was dark, giving him the perfect opportunity to rape her, but he didn’t. Those weren’t the actions of a depraved monster. No. He wasn’t, couldn’t be the one whispering all these depraved suggestions into the receiver of the phone.

  She knew who this pervert was. It had to be Barry Schorr. Barry Schorr, the nut who gazed at her with glassy eyes while he cornered her in his office. He couldn’t even carry on a normal conversation. Everything he said was filled with suggestive remarks and dirty innuendoes. He expected her to laugh at his filthy jokes while he tried to slip his hand up her skirt.

  She’d begun wearing jeans just to keep his hands off her naked knees, but it didn’t discourage him. He simply squeezed the fabric right along with her knee.

  Blaze suddenly remembered getting several calls at her home in L.A. where no one seemed to be on the line, or so she thought. Nothing was said, just an eerie silence, and breathing, until she finally hung up.

  Now that she had fully realized it, that realization struck her hard. Barry Schorr was in Savannah stalking her, and the silence on the other end of the line had turned to heavy breathing, and vile language. Dread filled her, because she knew now just how sick Barry was, and her chances of staying alive quickly flew out the window. Tears began to stream down her cheeks, and sobs filled her throat.

  She quickly put her hand over her mouth, refusing to let this bastard hear her gasp. It was what he wanted to hear, she knew, and she wouldn’t give him that pleasure, that sick, perverted pleasure!

  All at once, she felt anger, a fighting anger. The bastard wasn’t going to do this to her. She would call him out, uncover him. She was tired of playing games, having everyone blame Erik when she knew who this bastard really was. Quickly reaching up with her hand to brush away the tears, she took a wild chance.

  “Hello, Barry,” she rasped through a sob-filled throat. “Still hidin’ somewhere in the dark feelin’ yourself up?”

  “What?”

  “What’s the matter, darlin’? Can’t you get it up without hearin’ my voice?”

  He took the receiver away from his ear and looked down at it. “What in hell?” he muttered. He could still hear her talking and slowly put the phone back up to his ear.

  “Barry, talk to me, sweetie. When are you gonna get the message that I think you’re crap? The lowest kind of crap on the face of the earth, in fact. You killed Melanie, and now you want to kill me, is that it? Well, listen to me, you black-hearted son of a bitch. Even if you do kill me, you won’t get away with it. You think you’re so damned smart, but your brains have always been caught in your zipper. A word of warning, mister. If you’re as smart as you think you are, you’ll get the hell out of Savannah because everyone’s wise to you, see, and before you know it, you’re gonna have a new outfit provided to you by the Savannah Prison System.”

  Hearing enough, he quickly pulled the phone away from his ear and abruptly disconnected her. He looked down at the small black instrument as if it were a coiling snake. What was going on? How did she know?

  That trash can’t do this to me. I’ll show her! I’ll show the bitch!

  All at once, a heat swirled in his groin. God, how he wanted a woman. No, not just any woman. He wanted Blaze. But he couldn’t have her, not yet. He’d find somebody else. Blaze’s stand-in.

  It’s better this way. She’s a smart girl. She’ll get the message. She’d better!

  With a jerk of the gears, and a mouthful of muttered obscenities, Barry Schorr sped away from Blaze’s apartment. He pushed the pedal all the way to the floor, watching as the lights of the city became one long banner of neon. He screeched his wheels as he turned corners, his anger causing him to pound the steering wheel with his fist. Everything seemed to change with that one phone call. She knew, and according to her, everyone else knew. She must be telling the truth because she sounded too confident. Too damned sure of herself.

  He let out a string of curses when he realized that Blaze Alexander wasn’t like other women. It wasn’t easy to scare her. An evil smile spread across his face. “I know how to scare her,” he muttered. “And she’ll be scared, all right. Good and scared when she sees the size of the dick I’m going to ram up her sanctified little pussy.”

  * * * *

  When Blaze heard the line suddenly go dead, she immediately cleared the connection for a new line and called Scott Sanders. “Scott!” she rasped into the receiver when he answered. “He just called. I called him out, and it scared him spitless. He hung up on me this time!”

  “What did you say?”

  “I called him by name. I didn’t back down, Scott. I didn’t cry or hang up on him.”

  “That’s great, Blaze. What else did you say?”

  “I told him I knew he killed Melanie, and that I knew he was after me, but that he wouldn’t get away with it because everybody was onto him.”

  “And he wouldn’t talk, huh? That means it is him. Now he’s probably trying to figure out how you know.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “You’ve got him running scared now. My advice is, just play it by ear the way you did this time. It seems to be working.”

  “Have you been in contact with the police there?”

  “Yeah, they’re working with the Savannah Police now. God, I’m just itching to get my hands into this. I think I might hop a jet and come down and talk to them.”

  “Why, Scott! To tame lil’ ol’ Savannah? My goodness, suga,” she said with her long-buried southern accent, “wouldn’t you be bored out of yo’ eva-lovin’ mind?”

  “All right, I deserved that, you little she-devil.”

  “Why don’t you just let the police handle it?”

  “Are you kidding? Someone kills my secretary in cold blood, then goes on the rampage for my bes
t client? They couldn’t shake me off with a stick. No, ma’am, I’m gonna make sure this son of a bitch gets what he deserves. Hell, I may even ask if I can be the one to pull the switch.”

  “Why, Scott, I think I’m seeing a different side of you.”

  “Yeah, the greedy side. I can’t let anything happen to you, kiddo. You’re making me a fortune.”

  “What a disappointment. Not my knight in shining armor after all.” She sighed, a sound of feigned disappointment in her voice. “Just the same old Scott Sanders.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll get your knight in shining armor. And who knows, he may be closer than you think.”

  “He must be in disguise, then. I haven’t seen anyone yet I’d even consider riding off into the sunset…” Her words faded when she thought of Erik. “Except…” She shook her head. “No. It’s impossible. I just can’t be that lucky.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but just hang in there, sweetie, stranger things have happened. Bye now.”

  * * * *

  When Blaze prepared to go to the station, she found herself wondering if Erik would be around. Her hand touched her lips as she thought of him, remembering his kiss. She pictured his piercing blue-green eyes, and his sensuous mouth, wondering what he would look like with a decent haircut, and without his hair always falling down in his face. Now that she knew he wasn’t the one who had been calling her, she didn’t have to be afraid of him. If he meant her any harm, he’d had the perfect opportunity the night he kissed her. The only way he had hurt her was by walking away, as if the kiss meant nothing.

  When she drove up in the parking lot, she looked over at the shadowed doorway that Erik had mysteriously disappeared through the other night. Watching the door curiously, she got out of her car and walked over to it. She looked around to make sure she wasn’t being observed and walked down about five steps.

  When she tried the doorknob, it gave way in her hand and she walked in. Inside a light was on, and the small space looked like someone’s living room. It had a couch, chairs, a coffee table, and even a TV set. Over in a little alcove off the main room was an unmade bed. The walls were paneled in the living area, but the small space where the bed was had green wallpaper with vines and leaves winding through it.

  The whole place was slightly cluttered, but had a comfortable look and feel. As she stood in the open door, she heard something that sounded like running water. When she heard the water stop, she moved quickly, hiding behind a curtain that extended across the opening of an area that was apparently being used as a closet. Peeping through the small opening in the curtain, she saw Erik come in with a towel wrapped around him. Her eyes widened. His body was perfect. His muscles rippled as he moved, and his legs were unbelievable. She continued to watch as he combed his wet hair back from his face.

  “Oh, my God!” Blaze muttered as she watched him. He was stunning. His lips were full and sensuous, his eyes darkly fringed, and smoldering. All at once, he dropped the towel, and Blaze had to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep from gasping at the generous size of his cock.

  Pulling out some briefs, he pulled them over his hips, then turned away. As Blaze watched him, she couldn’t help wondering what he was doing here. With his looks, he could probably be a male model, or even an actor.

  He must not realize how handsome he is. If he doesn’t, then he isn’t faking. But if he does, then he must be hiding something.

  When he went back into the bathroom, she heard the sound of a blow dryer, so she stepped out of the closet and slipped out, knowing a little more about Erik Grant.

  * * * *

  No one at the station knew about Blaze’s discovery, but they did notice that something was different in her treatment of Erik. Instead of avoiding him, she would smile and speak while allowing her gaze to dig deep into the dappled shadows his blond hair made on his handsome face. She even began showing up at the station early every night and hanging around Erik. After a while, they began sharing Cokes and laughed together like old friends.

  “Erik, tell me something about yourself. Where do you come from?”

  “H-Here.” He said, pointing down.

  “Oh, really? You’re from Savannah?”

  He smiled, and nodded.

  “Did you go to school here?”

  He nodded again.

  Blaze couldn’t take her eyes off him, and wondered how she could get him to kiss her again. She had to find out if that one time was just a fluke, or if his lips really did set fire to her lips, lighting her up like a sparkler on the Fourth of July.

  After days of getting to know him, Blaze knew that Erik had to be faking it. His eyes were sharp, he was quick witted and uncomplicated. He was himself, real, natural. In a world full of conceited people, it was always nice to see someone whose thoughts didn’t include kissing themselves in the mirror.

  She thought of Greg. She noticed Greg watching them, so she asked, “Erik, do you mind if we take a walk and get some fresh air?”

  “O-Okay, s-sure.”

  When they left, Blaze made sure they stayed on the walk against the building that led to Erik’s doorway. When they got there, she leaned against him.

  “Gosh, for some reason, I’m feeling faint. Is there somewhere we can go and sit down?”

  “You…w-want to…go back inside?”

  “No, not back there,” she said with a weak voice. “Is there somewhere around here?”

  * * * *

  Erik looked around, avoiding the one place he couldn’t take her, and that was his stuffy little apartment. He couldn’t let anyone know he lived there. It would cost him his job for sure. Knowing Greg the way he did, he would probably demand the station be compensated for the many months he had already lived there. Erik just didn’t have the money. A few years back, he’d had cars, women, a plush apartment, money in the bank, God, anything he wanted, but he was forced to finally close the door on his lucrative career. That’s when he hooked up with WSCX.

  The station didn’t pay him enough money to eat on, much less pay rent on a decent place to live, so he’d learned to live more by his wits than anything else. That’s how he found the apartment. He’d been in the habit of sitting on the steps during his breaks, and began to wonder what was behind the door.

  The day he tried the door, it squeaked as if in pain, finally giving way to a shadowy, dusty cave-like darkness. He couldn’t believe his eyes. In the gloom of the little room, he saw furniture, torn a little and filled with dust, but livable. Had it been a storeroom at one time? No, he suspected that someone at the station had used it as some kind of illicit rendezvous. Anyway, whatever it was, it was the perfect place to hide a love affair. Looking around, he could tell the place was no longer being used, and hadn’t been for years.

  When Blaze moaned, he knew he had to take the chance. She was a friend, after all. She’d hide his secret. And if she didn’t? Well, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. Putting his strong arms around her, he led her down the steps, slowly opened the door, and helped her to the couch.

  “W-Water?”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “No. I think I’m all right now. Thanks,” she said as she looked around. “What place is this? It looks like someone lives here.”

  “I l-live h-here.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “M-Money. N-Not enough.”

  Blaze felt an instant anger rise up in her. She wanted to kill Greg, or whoever was responsible for paying such low wages that a person couldn’t even live decently.

  “You don’t pay rent here?”

  “N-No. N-Nobody knows. P-Please don’t t-tell.”

  She took his hand and smiled at him. “No, of course I won’t.”

  He smiled at her, dropping his gaze timidly. She reached up and pushed his hair back and lifted his handsome face. “Erik, you know the other night when you kissed me—”

  “I-I’m s-sorry. N-Not again. P-Promise.” He indicated toward the station. “G-Greg, he
told m-me to s-stay away from y-you. H-He don’t l-like m-me.”

  Blaze felt another stab of anger, then looked up at Erik and spoke softly. “Don’t listen to Greg, Erik. I like you very much. Would you like to kiss me again?” She suddenly felt embarrassed. “I mean to teach Greg a lesson, of course.”

  “W-When?”

  “Now.”

  “B-But he’s not h-here.”

  “Well, maybe we could practice. You know, so we’ll be ready when he’s around.”

  “W-Well,” Erik seemed uncomfortable, “okay…I guess.”

  Blaze moved a little closer to him and looked up as if waiting for him to make a move.

  With fumbling movements, he leaned forward hesitantly. “Like this?” he asked as he touched his lips to hers.

  Erik’s lips were soft and sweet, but timid, so Blaze began to lead him into a soft, innocent kiss. All at once, something happened, and his bumbling movements became sure, his techniques refined. Before Blaze knew what was happening, he had pulled her to him roughly, opened her lips and gave her a deeply sensuous, mind-boggling kiss. She moaned aloud as an electric thrill cut through her lower regions.

  She found herself responding as Erik leaned over her and began pushing her against the arm of the couch. Her hand came up and she found herself crushing the collar of his shirt with a passionate intensity she had never felt. She could feel herself becoming drunk on a kiss that tasted like heated wine. His tongue was a flame against hers as he drew deeply on her lips. She could feel herself getting weak, as if she were being pulled down into a whirlpool of pure ecstasy. Before she knew what was happening, Erik had pulled away and was looking down at her with anxious eyes.

  “Zow-eee!” she muttered. “I guess you can’t improve on perfection.”

  Erik turned his face away, hiding a secret smile.

  His kiss had left Blaze staggering. She found herself literally stumbling back around to the front of the studio, and when she began her broadcast, every suggestive comment she made, every sensuous remark, and every sultry note played was for his benefit. She looked up several times and saw him watching her. This time, instead of cringing, a warm feeling swirled around inside her.

 

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