Page 2

Two

MELODY

T he envelope shakes in my hand as I hold it up. My finger slides beneath the seal on the back and I pull out a blank note card written by the same hand.

Scavenge your senses and play along.

If you don’t, you’ll be stripped of all your thongs.

Want to find out where the answer lies?

You must avoid all jealous and spying eyes.

Where did you meet such an ancient flame?

In the place where a curtain of pink protects your name.

What an absolutely bizarre message! What is this person talking about? Holding the card, I look for any other clues inside the envelope, but there are none. How did the person get in here? With the groceries?

Still pondering the millions of questions racing through my brain, I fumble through my morning routine. When I glance at the phone again, I toss it on the bed and hurry.

“Fuck! I’m so late.”

My fingers grip the handle of my lingerie drawer and then I pause with my hand covering my gasping mouth. There’s only one pair of my thongs left in the drawer. And when I hold them up…

A crusty white substance covers the crotch of the panties. One sniff lets me know exactly what it is.

“Gross!”

Quickly, I drop the fabric to the floor and look for another pair anywhere. The hamper, the other drawers, the trash bin… I have no underwear left. And I’m almost ten minutes late, which means?—

My phone blares its first ring of the morning.

Not even checking the screen, I heave in a deep breath and answer. “Yes?”

“Where the fuck are you?” Jake snaps through the phone.

“I’m on my way now. Be there in fifteen.” I hang up, knowing it will take me thirty, but he can wait. Useless Dustin can get his coffee for once.

With a heavy sigh, I place my hands on my hips and glance around my room. Guess I’m going commando today. I throw on some slacks and hurriedly dress before heading out the door, tucking the envelope into my work bag.

I’m not sure what to think of the condition of my panties. It’s sad I have to ask, but I need to know… Whose cum was it?

The question makes my stomach roll with nausea. As I rush into the building, I get a flash of my fantasy last night, of the feeling that a masked man was standing at the foot of my bed pleasuring himself while watching me.

What if it wasn’t a fantasy?

“Finally decided to show up to work, Mel?” Jake shuffles some files on his desk, giving me a stern look. “What the fuck are you wearing today?”

I glance down at my outfit, black slacks, but an obnoxiously colored silk blouse I bought for a Halloween costume one year. No underwear and, oh. Mismatched shoes.

Jake leans back and strokes the stubble on his chin with a sly grin. “Who’s the new guy?”

Pretending like this was all planned, I smooth out a few wrinkles on my waist and shrug. “What?”

“Obviously you got out of bed in a hurry. The pristine Mel never looks like this and the last two days you’ve looked askew, to be polite about it.”

He’s always curt, but today he seems excessively sassy. “My personal life is none of your business. Did you order me groceries?”

His eyes grow wide as he stares at me. “Uh, no. How about you take off early today and buy yourself something less colorful ? I know I pay you better than this.” With a wave of his palm up and down my figure, he grows a look of disgust. Anger floods my face until it burns hot.

“You know what, Jake? I will take today off.” With a spin on one of my heels, I almost trip out the door, but flip around just to flick him off and say, “Have fun getting your own lunch and writing your own emails, asshole!”

Rage makes me shake all over and Dustin’s little boy scared face makes me want to punch it. Instead, I knock over his pencil cup, spilling them all over the floor. As I exit the corner office, I slam the door.

I don’t care if I get fired. I do everything around here and for what? To get reamed about my clothes?

Clothes someone may have come in?

Back in my car, I bang my head against the seat back, feeling guilty for my outburst. It brings me straight back to my younger years when my temper was something of legend. No one in Crystal Frond High wanted to mess with me, Mel the Mean Girl. I thrived on other’s fear of me. Walking down the halls watching freshman skirt out of my way made me feel powerful.

So now, as an adult, having to hold back for people like Jake Connor only makes it worse. Mel the Reaper comes out when I least want her to. Maybe I should march back in and apologize. Ugh! I can’t do it, though. His smug face would make me throw something and really get myself in trouble.

No. I think I need time away. It’s been so long since I took vacation or even a personal day, it’s for the best to do so before I have to do a whole new job search. But maybe I’ll have to anyway.

Mateo

Mel? Are you okay? What happened?

Everyone says you rage quit after yelling at Jake… Call me!

Glancing at my phone, I decide to turn it off. If it’s going to be a full day of rest and relaxation, then I’m ignoring the churning anxiety in my gut that I may have just lost my job.

As I head out of the parking garage for employees, I pause at the exit, wondering about heading home or… Hmm. The card.

Only one place I know has a pink curtain. Shonda’s Silky Selections. The store I worked in high school only because I could get a twenty percent discount on lingerie that the football players would see if they were lucky. Last I heard, Shonda was still the owner. I wonder if I can get a discount.

Now that I need new underwear.

The ice is melting rapidly as the sun shines brighter than it has in weeks. Main Street is not too busy, given it’s before the lunch hour and I easily find a parking spot in front. Only a couple other cars are nearby. It’s warm when I step out and grab my bag, so I don’t bother with my winter coat.

As soon as the door chimes when I enter, my brain takes me right back to when I was sixteen. Vanilla and rose flood my nose as I waltz closer to the main counter. Nothing has changed. It still looks the same as it did twenty years ago. Even the panties are in the same spots. Maybe the quality of the fabric has lessened, the prints have gotten bolder, but it’s still similar to how it all was.

Girls wanted to be me and would crowd in during my shift to see what I was wearing under my stylish outfits. They were so desperate for my opinion on what they should buy for their first times or prom nights.

“Oh my god. Mel?!” Shonda’s voice makes me close my eyes in memory of getting yelled at too many times for talking to boys on the phone instead of customers. For smoking cigarettes in the alley behind the store.

“Hi, Shonda. Yeah, it’s me. It’s been awhile.” Most grown-up women buy their lingerie at a department store or order it online like respectable introverts.

“It’s been a long time. You look great! The same!”

I take in her tight black curls and broad smile. “You haven’t aged a day, either. I bought some slips a few years ago. But you weren’t here that day.”

“Well, I’m so glad you came in! Is there anything I can help you with?”

It’s awkward, talking to someone who knew me back then. I hope I’ve changed from the bully I once was. Life has humbled me several times. So I try to avoid everyone I used to know like all the guys from high school or the girls I cut down. Some of them I apologized to one wine drunk night. But, otherwise, I just hope they leave me alone as much as I pretend they don’t exist anymore. We’re all different people now.

But I feel trapped talking with Shonda. How can I get in and out of here without her bringing up bad memories?

“Oh, I just needed some new thongs.”

“Well, we have a special today. Grab any five over there for the same price as three. We also have a deal on bras. You look like you need one with a bit more support.”

My mouth curls up to refrain from saying anything, but I’m already wandering over to the stack and grabbing a handful of panties. Then I snag a bra next to it. One I used to like. “Just these are fine.”

“Do you need a bra fitting?”

Heat flames in my cheeks thinking about Shonda giving me a fitting at this age. My answer stops as I'm interrupted by a flurry of women entering the shop. Blondes with styled dresses and carrying oversized water bottles, the crowd spy me with loud giggles and screeches.

The Reapettes.

Oh, god. My horrible crew from high school enters as a cluster, a sachet of shallowness hovering over them.

“Mel! It’s been ages!” Cindy, the worst offender says, pulling me in for a quick fake hug. The others surround and do the same with a few air kisses. “Whatever are you doing here? Miss old times?”

Bellany sneers while crossing her too thin arms. “Did Jake Connor just fire you?” Ugh. This town is too small.

“What? No…” I shrug like nothing happened. “Was just going to try these on… I’ll be back shortly.”

Backing away, I escape the group and head for the dressing rooms. Pink velvet lines the floors, the walls, and the curtains covering each booth. Hurriedly, I pull back one and rush inside, slamming it closed like it can stop them from invading my space.

Gathering up a deep breath, I toss the fabric onto the silk chaise and cover my face with my hands. I’m not her anymore. Nor do I want to be.

I went to law school for fuck’s sake. Maybe I should never have returned to Crystal Frond. But my mom needed me to help take care of Dad before he passed away from dementia. And then she died from heart disease a year later. I guess I could always leave.

But I love it here. I just wish… wish they’d all forget.

The curtain draws back and I snap my head up to tell Cindy or whoever to leave. My lungs lose their air in the startled gasp I make.

A very tall masked man stands in front of me wearing a green hoodie and black jeans. His broad shoulders block the doorway as he fills the tiny room. My back hits the wall as I stumble to get away from him, but there’s nowhere for me to go.

Through blurry vision, I make out that his mask is actually a skeleton only covering his eyes and nose. His jawline, mouth, and cheeks are painted to look like one. Despite the thickness of his clothing, his frame is muscular and foreboding.

He’s the man from my dream.

“Wha—who are you?” My voice is frail, half whispered.

Black painted lips slide into a sly grin, but he doesn’t speak. With cautious steps, he inches closer. One broad hand extends and I think about slapping it away, but I’m too afraid to do anything other than stand. His arm slips around my waist as he hauls me into his hard body.

The eyes are painted black beneath his mask as well, but the bright green of his irises is more mesmerizing than his mask. Leaning over my neck, his heated breath warms the skin on my neck as a deep, gravelly voice rings out, “The Reaper.”

With a gasp, I grip his jeans loops tighter. “Do-do you mean me? Mel the Reaper?”

He huffs a chuckle out and places his lips against where my pulse is pounding with a torrent of blood near my throat. Speaking into my skin, he says, “No. Your Reaper. Come to give you the punishment you deserve.”

As I stifle a moan, he delves into my neck and lets his mouth cling to the skin there, sucking it hard inside. I choke a swallow and he bites me. My hands make it up to his corded chest and push, but it’s impossible to move him. He’s a fortress.

When I try to twist from his hold, he only grips my thigh and brings it up around his waist until my core throbs against his. And he’s so hard and I’m terrifyingly needy. With one hand, I tug off his hood and he lets me, black hair topping the shaved sides of his head. A tattoo of a Grim Reaper laces up behind one of his ears.

Pulling away, I try to feel his mask. He grips my hand and tugs me closer until I’m hitched completely around his waist and have to cling to his neck to hold on. His hardness beneath his belt presses me against the wall and I hump him like a teenager. Like when I used to work here and made out with nerdy Lincoln Pierce.

“You were such a good girl, obeying my instructions. Hopefully, you learn to follow more, if you know what’s good for you.”

Just as I feel the heat rising deep within my belly, the masked man digs his fingers between us and loosens my trouser button. Even though I grab his wrist, I’m not really sure I want him to stop. His green eyes penetrate my face as he crawls his fingers deeper, underneath my pants. “Fuck, yes. Good. You listened… Although I was hoping you’d wear the gift I left you.”

My nails dig into his skin as I realize… “You came in my thong?”

His white teeth flash with a smile as he slips his digits between my pussy lips. “Yes. The thought of you wearing my come so close to you all day made me so fucking hard.” A whimper erupts from my lungs as he plunges two fingers inside me. “So fucking wet.”

Some murmurs outside the room catch my attention. “They could hear us!”

The Reaper places his lips over my ear and murmurs, “Let them. I want them to fucking hear you scream as I make you erupt.”

And he does… with not much effort. It’s as if he knows how lonely I’ve been. How desperate for touch. My heels dig into his butt while I writhe on his shaft hidden just underneath his jeans. He’s well endowed, I feel it. And I want it.

“Scream for me, prom queen.”

A mixture of shock and pleasure rips through my body. The feeling of his foreign fingers forcing the orgasm from me makes things even hotter. He’s a complete stranger. And anonymous. Despite trying to hold the sound in, it escapes until I’m wailing out into the store.

In a split second, he sets me upright and vanishes behind the curtain, while I slump onto the chaise.

“Mel? Are you okay?” Shonda doesn’t really ask it as a question. More like knowing what I’ve been up to. The worst day of my life in high school was when Cindy and Bellany found me with Lincoln in here. My reputation was nearly tarnished for life.

“Ye-yes, I’m fine. Don’t think I’ll be buying today, sorry.” Hurriedly, I pull myself together and dart from the store as the old crew of snooty-nosed women gape at me. I’m sure my hair and face give everything away.

My heart rate still hasn’t calmed down by the time I make it home, kicking off shoes and tossing off my clothes. The panty drawer of my dresser is cracked. Maybe I left it that way, but I sneak over to it to take a peek.

When I open the tops ones, new lingerie from an expensive brand spills from inside along with handfuls of rose petals. A trail of the delicate red flower leads toward the bed…

Where I spy another envelope that says,

Ready or not. Here I come…