The Killing Season by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2014-08-12T16:00:00+00:00

29

IT WAS A cold night. Neither of them noticed. The blood in their veins was pumping with alcohol and excitement.

They were in a back alley which ran off a small passage that itself led from the high street past an amusement arcade and through to residential streets. It was relatively dark in the alley: the lights from the amusement arcade had been switched off, and the couple’s warm breath in the cold air was barely visible.

The woman had been positioned against a stone wall. The man behind her lifted her dress. She had a warm coat on but no knickers – as she had been instructed.

The man behind her unzipped his fly, his excitement all too obvious to her. She giggled.

‘Oh my,’ she said. ‘I hope you have a licence for that.’

The man slid his hand between her parted legs and whispered in her ear.

‘Somebody seems to be ready for it,’ he said.

‘Are you going to fuck me or talk me to death?’ she replied and then grunted as the man acted upon her question. ‘Jesus!’ she gasped when his stomach slammed against the top of her buttocks as he entered her.

‘No blasphemy,’ the man chuckled as the woman juddered against him, the heat from her bottom arousing him even more as he gripped her hips and pulled her towards him.

‘This is the last time,’ the woman gasped, breathing raggedly.

‘We’ll see about that,’ he replied. Her long hair fell over her face as she leaned further over the wall and he slapped hard into her in a regular rhythm.

It didn’t take him long and, spent, he sagged against her, both of them breathing deeply, gulping in deep draughts of the cold night air.

The man removed the L-plate sign that was pinned on the back of her coat and tossed it to the ground. ‘I guess you won’t be needing that now,’ he said.

‘Jesus!’ gasped the woman again.

Neither of them noticed the man in the dark shadows further down the alley, who was watching them with eyes as cold as the night air.

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