Wine Valley Mystery Books 1-4 by Sandra Woffington

Author:Sandra Woffington [Woffington, Sandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Summit Publishers
Published: 2019-08-14T23:00:00+00:00

2

Christie unbuttoned Ted’s shirt.

Ted unbuttoned her sheer blouse. She unzipped his pants, and he pushed them to the floor. He pulled her undershirt, a blue tank top, off over her head. In little time, they both stood naked.

Christie put her hand on Ted’s chest and playfully pushed him.

Ted fell back on the red satin bedspread. His head plunged into the throw pillows. The room spun.

He blinked to clear his thinking.

Christie crawled over him and straddled him. She kissed Ted’s chest. They’d established a no-kissing-on-the-lips rule, no rough play. Christie was in charge.

Ted reached for Christie. Her blond and blue spiky hair jutted in sharp triangles that suddenly shot to the ceiling, giving her the look of a fantasy lion. He closed his eyes and moaned as she touched him. He floated. He felt intoxicated. Had someone slipped him something? He’d only had two cocktails. Maybe Christie or Tony had put something in his drink?

Ted saw fuzzy bursts of light and color that glowed or waved in the air: the brass rings stretched into oblongs; the sheer reds and golds that streamed down the walls dripped; the bright whiteness of Christie’s face glowed. Her eyes became cat’s eyes, her face that of a lioness about to devour him.

Ted sighed and moaned. He felt light and free. His arms dropped and remained limp by his sides. He rode up and down on swelling ocean waves. It was like being in the cabin of a boat that rocked on the sea. It soothed him. He wanted to sleep.

The rocking stopped. He drifted to sleep. Time passed as he lay in the cabin. He wanted to get up and join the others. He could hear them, chatting and laughing. Were they laughing at him? The party. He was missing the party.

A light film fell over his nose and mouth. He wanted to swat it away, but he had no strength. A soft, fluffy object pressed against his face, leaving him unable to see. He struggled to inhale, but the film sealed his nose and mouth and prevented him from sucking in air. He tried to lift his arms and fight, but he slipped between worlds: real and imaginary.

The cabin of the boat began to fill with water. His face slipped beneath the icy cold liquid. He flailed his arms, at least he imagined he did, like a drowning man struggling to swim.

The next thing he knew, he stood at the edge of the boat. He jumped over the side and plunged into the dark night. He hit the water and sank.

He opened his eyes but saw nothing but inky blackness.

He stopped struggling and let the depths swallow him.

He descended quickly. Sinking. He could hear his heart pound in his chest as it struggled to beat without air to fuel it.

His body shuddered. He hit bottom.

His heart stopped, and he sank in the sand, silent and cold.

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