The Perfect Stranger

Excerpts from Jaynie Reed’s hot new novel, “The Perfect Stranger”, available now from www.lulu.com/jayniereed!

PROLOGUE

Nick Baker pulled his rental car part way up the long and winding, darkened driveway. He had flipped his headlights off a block away, allowing his car to creep down the black streets of the Melbourne suburb toward the home of the man he was going to kill. He felt across the faux leather seat and reassuringly found the calf-skin sheath that held the eight inch knife he had purchased earlier that day. His stomach was empty, but he still felt like vomiting. His clammy palms kept slipping around the steering wheel. He wiped them onto his blue jeans periodically and could feel his hands shaking along his thighs as he did so.

He spent several minutes preparing himself for his crime before he slid out of the opened driver’s window so as not to wake his unwitting victim with the slamming of the car door. He held the knife tightly in his right hand, until his fingers turned blue and went cold. Nick wanted to shoot the man, but didn’t have a sophisticated enough criminal mind to know where to purchase a gun, in particular, one that couldn’t be traced back to him. The knife would have to suffice. Perhaps it would even provide him with the satisfaction of knowing that his victim would suffer a slow, agonizing death, contemplating his life and the poor choices he had made.

As he edged closer to the house, Nick was aware that he had only these last few minutes to change his mind. But he had come too far. This man had to die, and so he would. Tonight. At Nick’s hands. After pulling the knife out, he slipped the sheath into his back pocket, and continued on toward the back door. The neighborhood was completely dark, except for a few energy saving street lights that were spread out a bit too far along the main road. He was able to slip easily, anonymously through the darkness. The closer he got to the point of entry, the more emboldened he became. He expected his fear to grow until it consumed him, but instead, the nearer he drew, the more brave he felt.

He pulled a cloth cover from the patio table and wrapped it around his balled fist, driving his fist through the glass pane of the heavy oak door, and reached inside in order to unlatch it. So fucking stupid, he thought, only in the movies would homes be this easy to break into. Yet he was pleasantly surprised because it had never occurred to him that he hadn’t previously formulated a plan about how to get into the house. The glass shards splattered onto the floor with surprisingly little noise. He shuddered, wondering if there were any other details that he had inadvertently overlooked.

Nick wasn’t familiar with the house, so he wasn’t exactly sure in what room the man slept. He’d have to search a bit. He crept up the wooden staircase on his tip toes, wearing socks but no shoes. His soft, trembling hands were now encased in a pair of long, yellow, non-latex gloves that he had stuffed in his front pocket. His thick brown hair was covered by a shower cap, the edges of which had been duct taped to his head. There were sweat beads rolling along his scalp and collecting along the ridges of the cap. He wore long sleeves and long pants, which were duct taped at the wrists and ankles. He had taken every reasonable precaution to assure that he would leave no skin or hair in the man’s home. At least he had thought of those details. Nick was a careful man, who still had enough foresight to be concerned with self-preservation.

As he neared the top of the steps, he could hear a clock ticking loudly and through an open window he could hear the sound of the rolling surf across the street. His heart was racing now, his breathing, shallow. Just before Nick pushed open the door to the man’s room, he envisioned his wife, Nicole. Her face smiled at him sweetly from the corners of his memory. Her eyes bored into him and her arms reached out toward him.

“I love you,” she smiled. “I love you baby.” And Nick knew he must kill this man. He must kill him for Nicole. He must kill him to save their marriage. Then his vision changed. Nicole’s eyes weren’t on him any longer. Nick realized that her tender words weren’t directed at him at all. They were directed at the man in the bed. He saw Nicole beneath that man, writhing with the pleasures that were only to be experienced between a husband and his wife.

Nick pushed the door open and strode toward the bed, the knife clutched resolutely in his numb fist.

EXCERPT #2

He leaned in toward her and kissed her lips, cheeks, eyelids, nose and chin. She could feel him pressing against her warm, wet slit, ready to penetrate her and was eager to receive him. She pulled her thighs back and spoke only one word before he filled her with his aching penis.

“Please.”

This one word was her invitation, her permission, extended willingly to the man she’d loved for the last nine months. She hadn’t planned to speak, and the sound of her voice seemed to startle even her.

And suddenly, he was inside of her. She shifted herself to find the most comfortable position as his full nine-inches probed her insides and found her cervix easily, poking and pressing against it until she was wriggling and squealing beneath him as if this were her first time. In a sense, it truly was. It was as if she was a virgin, who was offering up her most precious prize to the man that filled her heart with a sense of recklessness, hopefulness and love. He had been anxious to claim this prize from the moment he met her online. They had talked each other through many orgasms, cried together, laughed out loud and fought like banshees, but in the end, they each always knew that someday this moment would come. It was destiny. Yet even as he bored into her, she saw Nick’s face. With every thrust, she could almost feel Nick’s tears falling onto her chest and hear him begging her to stop. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and willed him away. Her body was trembling ferociously now, as much out of guilt as from passion and desire.

EXCERPT #3

It took a few minutes and several paragraphs before he began to understand that this was no ordinary story. The title on the inside of the document was Under Australian Skies. The main character, a woman, had all of the same physical characteristics as Nicole, petite, blonde, blue eyes, with an ample bosom. Her lover in the story was not Nick, but rather, an Australian businessman with a penchant for anal sex and cruelty toward women.

What the hell is this? His eyes scanned the pages eagerly, with a sense of inquisitiveness that penetrated him to the core.

“Nicole stared into Michael’s eyes with an intense longing. She had never met anyone like him. His eyes were the color of slate, cold and brooding. When he stared her she felt a complicated mixture of longing and fear, as though she never really quite knew whether he would kiss her or strike her. The sense of uncertainty and danger that she felt with him was exhilarating. It was so different from anything she had ever felt with her husband. It reminded her that she was still a living, breathing woman, full of passion and desire. She hadn’t felt that way in such a long time.

“Nicole,” he began, allowing a pregnant pause to separate her name from the rest of his words, “I love you.” In that moment, with those melodious word hanging between them, Nicole felt the earth stop spinning. She was lifted into the air, with Michael still at her side, his lips still clinging to hers, and she entered a state of utter euphoria”.

EXCERPT #4

Within seconds, Michael was lost in the depths of a foggy dream. A figure, which he sensed was Susan, floated before him, gray and faceless. Her body seemed to be made of nothing more than mist. He could make out its silhouette perfectly and reached to touch it, yet it had no substance.

“Why, Michael?” the faceless vapor questioned him, in the same voice that he heard on the telephone. “Why?”

He felt confused. Why what? he asked without actually speaking, yet the figure answered his unspoken question.
“Why are you doing this to me? With her? You know what you have to do. It’s the right thing.” Michael grew uneasy. He knew what it was that the figure was suggesting, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it. He shook his head tentatively, unaware of what might happen if he angered the misty woman.

“Yes, Michael. Do it. It’s the only way to save yourself. You can only live, if she dies.”

Outwardly, Michael appeared to be a very relaxed man, reclined in a comfortable leather chair, with his weary feet resting on his mahogany desk. Internally, he was quaking and becoming agitated. In his dream, Michael could feel a light sweat erupting along his brow, yet he felt cold in the presence of the mysterious figure. He was conflicted, kill Nicole and live, or spare her and die. Once again, he reached out toward the vapory silhouette that was suspended in front of him. Its dressing gown swirled in the air, evading the touch of his desperate fingers.

“Please, there must be another way,” he begged. “I can’t lose her. Don’t force me to choose.” As he spoke, he found it harder and harder to see the misty figure. She was evaporating. “Please,” he called out more loudly, desperate to be heard.

There is always another option, he thought in his dream, I could kill Susan. She can’t hurt me or Nicole if I kill her instead. He had instinctively known that Susan was the misty lady. He knew that he could never kill himself, and Nicole didn’t deserve to die. Only someone who would command another to commit murder was worthy of death. In his dream, Michael had made the uneasy decision to kill Susan. It was the only way to protect his secret life with Nicole. Yet he hadn’t deduced how to kill something that wasn’t real. Susan was nothing but a cloudy spirit, hovering within his consciousness, yet unable to be touched. She had, in effect, become his conscience.

EXCERPT #5

Nick boarded his plane as scheduled, with his one carry on bag and a gut full of nervous butterflies. He felt physically ill. He could always turn back. He could always allow himself to give in to an attack of conscience and decide to spare Michael’s life, but that would be vastly unsatisfying and wouldn’t allow him any guarantee that his wife would remain faithful to him. He’d always know that she would have a lover, and each time she left the house for work or anything else, he’d sense that she was with him, no matter how illogical those suspicions might be.

The last time he had been in the airport, he was seeing his wife off, turning her over to another man, and extending his unwitting permission to her to jump into this man’s arms and then into his bed. The very bed that Nicole was in with Michael now, making scorching, passionate love, wearing only his ring and the passion of her heart. Nick hated himself for being so blind and trusting, but he tried to push those thoughts out of his mind now and turned his attention instead to the plan that he’d been hatching over the past week. Could he really go through with this? He was so full of rage and pain that he felt as if he had no other choice but to commit murder, despite everything that it might cost him once the deed was done.

EXCERPT #6

“Did you always enjoy violent sex?” she asked him as she pushed her steak around her plate with the back of her fork. He didn’t answer immediately, but seemed to contemplate the question for several seconds, sipping his wine pensively as he did so.

“No. Not violent. Experimental. Sensual. Trusting. I enjoy an exercise in trust. I asked if you trusted me, and you said ‘yes.’ You showed that trust to me tonight and I loved you for it.”

“Well I didn’t like it,” she said, not looking directly at him, as if it were she that had cause to be ashamed.

“You’ll learn to like it. It’s scary the first time, but now you know you can trust me. Next time you can learn to relax and concentrate on the erotic sensations that will be coursing through your body as I lay my hands on you.”

But she didn’t want to learn to like it and doubted that she could. She was starting to develop a sense of dread about him. She felt weary with panic and apprehension at the idea that each time he wanted to make love with her, an act of violence and pain would accompany that love. These were not things that they had discussed on line. She didn’t come here fully prepared to deal with these revelations. She had reddened, purplish marks on her neck and she knew instinctively that they would not be fully gone before she had to fly home. She was getting in way too deep. He was going to find a way to make it impossible for her to hide this affair, and when she had lost everything, what then?

EXCERPT #7

Her eyes appeared to be filled with compassion and understanding. What he couldn’t see, was that behind her eyes lurked a terror that she had never before experienced. She only had one day left with him and she wasn’t sure she could make it through that day without being terribly hurt, or worse. In the past several days he had beat her, burned her, choked her, pissed on her and anally raped her. All he had left to do, she feared, was kill her. She didn’t believe that it would happen intentionally, but she couldn’t rule out the possibility that he might get carried away. She didn’t seem to be able to control herself with him, and she knew that it was impossible to control him. She tried to shake the frightening thoughts from her head. She needed to set a healthy tone. If she could find a way to control their last day together, she might be okay. If she could control these last twenty-four hours, she could board her plane, leave him and never look back. Yet despite all her fear, anger and confusion, she still harbored an inexplicable love for him. She was completely defeated. He had erased the last vestiges of the woman she had once been, the woman who loved life and trusted others, the woman who flew to Australia on a whim to take a lover, who had planned to harbor a precious, pleasurable secret, in the deepest recesses of her mind and heart, keeping it safe there, for her contemplation only. She never intended to hurt anyone, yet now, it was she who appeared to be dying.

EXCERPT #8

Susan had slipped back into her suite at the Hotel Windsor well after the children were all asleep. A gray ring of smoke curled from her June Slim and hung in the stagnant air of her room. The tip of her cigarette glowed a brilliant orange against the darkness. Her eyelids were fluid filled and there were dark circles under them. She looked older, weary and cold. She hadn’t eaten in the past two days. She was gaunt, her customary elegance slowly slipping away. Mohana stirred and slipped from her bed to sit beside her mother in the darkness. Several minutes passed before either of them spoke their first words.

“You did it, didn’t you?” Mohana questioned, finally breaking the silence first.

“What the devil are you talking about?” Susan said without a trace of emotion in her voice.

“You know what I’m talking about mum. You killed daddy.” Mohana’s voice never wavered. She’d been planning this exchange since Aamani had found her father’s body.

Mohana knew that Susan and Michael had had a very tense and volatile relationship. She had heard their many fights, late in the night, when they thought the children were fast asleep. She knew that Michael had cheated on Susan, yet she had found a way to blame her mother for driving her father into the arms of other women.

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Ed’s Note: Jaynie Reed is one of the up and coming superstars of the erotica genre, and her work is enjoyed by a growing audience of thousands. Get your hands on “The Perfect Stranger”, available now from www.lulu.com/jayniereed!