Page 3

Three

MELODY

I can’t sleep. The thought of The Reaper here in my room keeps my eyes darting around in the darkness with my covers pulled up to my nose. Worse…part of me wants him to show up and just take me. Even if I’m dozing. And I’m not sure what’s wrong with me for wishing that.

Like a smart, thirty-something woman, I checked all my locks, windows, and closets when I got home. Then again an hour later. And after it got dark. One of the dining room chairs fit nicely wedged under the handle of my bedroom door.

What if he’s so powerful, so menacing, that he could somehow filter in through the vents and enter the room, and then me?

No, Mel. Stop it. That’s absolutely absurd.

Somewhere in the very early morning hours, I fall asleep. Restless with dreams and nightmares of the masked man. I awaken with my fingers on my clit, just as he had them. Moans and whimpers vibrate my lips as I call for him.

This utter stranger that seemed like a man I’d created from my fantasies. And, yet, someone familiar. A person from my past.

My alarm buzzes. When I reach for the light, I brush the note I’d not dared read last night onto the floor. It opens as I sit up with my legs dangling off the edge of the bed. Like a natural disaster, I can’t look away from the written words on the card.

Your ears will hum from the thrill of the chase

Just as I dip my tongue in for one little taste

A sobering Melody on strings so thin

Secret places where you would walk right in

Notes of your past sing an ominous tune

And The Reaper will find you there at noon

My heart skips a beat. The Reaper… He wants to see me somewhere at noon ? That could be tricky with Jake being so needy. Especially with me just taking off on him like I did.

Some level of irritation rises inside me. How long has it been since I had a proper vacation? A sick day? I have savings and a hearty retirement account now. Maybe not enough to live off of until I die and I do still enjoy the work, but if Jake has a problem with me leaving yesterday, so be it.

With all the confidence I can muster, I call him, knowing he’s in the shower or still sleeping. I hope to reach his voice mail. Fortunately, it goes straight to it and I choke out a message.

“Hi, I’m sick today and won’t be coming into the office. I’ll be there tomorrow. I think your assistant can help you manage things.” Pressing the button to end the call in a hurry, I shake my shoulders to prevent myself from calling back and begging for forgiveness for lying. For playing hooky. And to make sure Jake has everything he needs today. Ugh! Will there just be a mountain of work tomorrow when I return?

As I get ready for a day of adventure, the worries of work leave while I contemplate the next clue. My belly flips thinking about seeing Reaper again and just what he’ll do to me. His note seems to make what he wants very clear: a taste of me. With excitement, I spend extra time preparing myself for the man in the mask and study the written words again as I dress in a short skirt and sweater. I mean, if he’s going to spend time down there, may as well give him easy access, right?

Ears hum, strings thin, notes, sing… It seems as if he’s hinting at a place with music. The only one I know is the record store I would go to alone when I was in high school. Some stoners worked the counter after class let out and it was the only time I could really find music I enjoyed. Not what all the cheerleaders were listening to. It was so rare I got to be me . And listening to those records was one of those treasured times.

Everyone was into pop or rock. I found a deeper appreciation for punk and ska during those years. Albums none of my frenemies would dare listen to. Sure, I ended up making out with some of the grungy pot heads in the back from time to time, but mainly I was there for the tunes. Those harmonious notes that would have me dancing underneath big headphones in a glass listening booth.

“That’s it!” I gasp. He wants to meet in one of those booths, I’m sure of it. Was he one of the alternative boys that rode skateboards there that I hooked up with?

Just before noon, I wander into Earphonium and glance around with a smile. Not one thing has changed. It even smells the same. All the plywood walls are coated with record albums signed by the artists. Even the kids behind the counter look similar, but younger than I recall.

One gives me a head nod when I enter, scanning my outfit and probably laughing to himself about what a stiff like me is doing in a store like this. The plastic sleeves covering the albums tickle my fingers as I saunter down an aisle until I find the one I want. Something I haven’t heard since back then.

Lifting it up, I wave it at the guys up front, but they don’t even pay me attention, talking about an apparent wild party that occurred last night. Like a rote memory, my feet head straight to the back where someone is playing a guitar in one booth. A tingle in my brain rocks my vision of me, at sixteen, sneaking down this same hall. Passion overwhelmed me as I would kiss whatever musician of the moment I had to hide from my popular friends and the jocks.

As I skirt past the door of whoever is playing the electric chorus, my heart stutters. With a flat palm, I press on the cold glass, absorbing the sound waves and urging the figure to turn around.

It’s a man wearing a green hoodie…

The knob is silent when I turn it and enter the small booth, but the player doesn’t stop his notes. In fact, it twists into a discordant refrain, a rendition of a song I should know. But the words are lost to me now.

Reaper hums a tune and I could sing along, but I don’t want to. If I do, I know it will only hold embarrassment of something done or said so many years ago. The melody is a wound left untouched by time.

With a nod of his hooded head, he aims at the table in front of him holding the record player and headphones. “Sit.” His voice is harsh and ragged, different from the loving sounds he was making earlier.

Edging in front of him in the tiny space, I slip between his spread thighs and ease my ass onto the wooden shelf in front of his face. My short skirt slides up my legs almost revealing everything I’m not wearing underneath.

The skull eyes behind his mask crinkle as he scans my figure up my chilled limbs to my face. With a white painted grin, he flashes his teeth and says, “Good, prom queen. Seems you finally understand how to follow orders…and who your master is.”

He places the guitar on its stand next to his chair, then slides gloved hands up my outer thighs, pushing the silky fabric of my skirt all the way until my bare cunt is exposed. Without a glance at my face, he says, “Spread yourself for me.”

“I-I…” Lowering my voice to a whisper, I scan the hall outside our booth. “ Anyone could walk by here, Reaper.”

His broad shoulders shrug and his black painted lips carefully dip to touch the inner part of my knee, making me shiver violently. A spark of electricity runs down my spine as I gasp.

“Good. Then everyone else will know who you belong to.”

With a jerking movement, his fingers latch under both calves and tug me wide open, pulling me toward his waiting mouth. My hand helps to brace my posture by slapping against the wall above me.

Lifting those forest green eyes to meet my gaze, he sticks his long, pink tongue out and strokes it slowly against my pussy lips. With a whimper, I shudder at the pleasure of the sensation.

“Here’s the deal. If you make a sound. This all stops.” His hot breath warms my labia until I scoot forward to get more of him on me. “One little moan and it’s all over for you. Do you understand?”

Nodding rapidly, I bite my bottom lip to keep from saying anything back. His chuckle makes the hairs on my body stand erect.

He dives his face into my cunt, aiming his sloppy tongue right where I need it most. “Fuck! This taste… It’s all I ever wanted.”

The muscle firms and licks ardently against my pussy like a starved man needing my essence in order to survive. It almost hurts the way his fingers dig into my skin, always tugging me closer and closer to him until the slurping sounds echo through the acoustic room.

My breathing gets ragged, but I continue to hold my voice back from the wailing moans I want to make. Squeezing my eyes shut, tears fall from the corners at the need to give this masked man even more than he’s taking. Not able to hold back any longer, I latch my legs around his back and grip his hood, shoving him deeper into me.

If he suffocates, maybe I can revive him. But first, I need that orgasm.

Backing away, he kisses my inner thigh, and I almost let a desperate sound escape. But when his eyes stare me down, I hold my breath to prevent it. “Such a fucking needy slut. Want my fingers in there, too?”

He’s trying to trick me into saying something. I won’t fall for it. Grimacing, I narrow my eyes and nod once and his painted smile broadens as he tickles my entrance with his index finger. Then a second one. He stretches me with a third and my forehead crinkles, heat rising in my belly.

I know as soon as he touches my throbbing clit with his mouth again, I’m done for. How will I keep quiet? I have no idea, but by then, it won’t matter.

With his teeth, he nips on my sensitive tissue and I lurch forward, almost crying out, but I quickly gather a breath instead. Plunging deeper inside me with his three fingers, he gives me a snarky grin and sucks hard on my clit, then flicks it, pulsing the tip of his tongue to get me to come.

And, god , I do.

Fire roars through my veins until I burn from the inside out, screaming out all the ecstasy I had held inside my lungs for the last several minutes. I’m not even done pulsing, writhing, gripping, and shaking when he hurriedly backs away, throws open the door and leaves. My panting gasps so loud, I try to stop myself now that the entire store can probably hear me.

And they must because one kid hurries back to check on me, peeking his head around the corner and widening his eyes at the lady with her skirt up around her waist. An utter wreck. That’s what I am.

But I jump down from the table, sliding my skirt over my thighs and dart from the room with a quick, “I changed my mind. Thanks.”

Scanning the hall, I see no one. The store is empty other than two confused young guys wondering why this woman just went into a booth and got herself off. Hopefully, they don’t call the cops. Having to explain to Mateo why I was arrested would be too embarrassing to recount.

I pick up my pace until I’m sprinting out and jump into my car. As I speed away toward my place, the high from the orgasm fades into irritation. How dare he leave me like that? Was that his plan? To humiliate me and expose me like that?

Well… I’m done playing his game. No more.

After picking up some food on my way home from my favorite restaurant, I nod at Roy as I pass by him on my way to the elevator. When I open the door to my place, I’m struck by the aroma of it. Like some type of detergent or flower I don’t know.

I almost drop my bags as I scan the place. Everything is utterly sparkling. As I step down to my sunken living room, I’m amazed how the sofa looks so polished, the leather seems as if it has had a nice shampoo. A new piece sits in the corner and when I approach, my hand makes its way to my throat.

It’s an antique radio cabinet. And on the inside is a record player with some of my favorite albums from back in the day. Tears hit my eyes as I scan each one, a memory of where I was when I first listened bringing me back to good times I had then whenever I could be alone.

Some shuffling from down the hall makes me pause. Two women with buckets and gloves exit and startle as they see me. “Oh, so sorry. We’re finished now. We’ll see you again next week, Miss Locke.”

Confused, I hesitate. “Wh-who hired you?”

They glance at each other. “Your assistant. He paid us for the year. Said you needed a deep cleaning this week, then we’ll be by to do the day to day every week. Does this time work for you?”

My jaw drops. “Oh, um. Yes. This works just fine.”

The two give me a curt smile, then head out the front door.

When I roam from room to room, each sparkling, I’m filled with warmth. Did The Reaper do this for me?

After spending the rest of the day lounging, relaxing, and listening to records, I crawl into bed with a happy smile on my face. I think I could get used to having a stalker around. With that bizarre thought, I fall deeply asleep, ready to face Jake and whatever work he’ll throw my way.

My heart takes a leap in my chest when I wake up and spot another of his cards lying against the lamp on my bedside table…