JESSICA

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We tumbled in throws of passion, exploring each other's bodies as we went. He was tender with me, holding me delicately as he fucked me like the stranger I was. Any guilt I had was being swept away by the sheer lust between us. I couldn't help but think; if he'd do this to a delicate flower, what would he do if he knew the real me?

I laid side by side with him, trying to catch my breath. I watched the rise and fall of my chest, as if it were a city.

"Do you mind?" he caught my attention. He was holding a cigarette against his pert lips with a lighter in the other hand. I shook my head and watched as the cigarette burned a bright orange blaze.

"So," he took a toke of his fire stick and held it in for a second before letting the smoke fill the room.

I must admit he looked fucking hot, it was making me want to jump him all over again. Let it be clear; my intentions were to never sleep with him, but now I was closer than I had hoped I'd get in just one night. I had him fooled like it was Christmas Day in a broken home.

"I feel bad. I never caught your name, mine is Henry." he finished his sentence.

I rolled over to face him and smiled sweetly. "It's Daisy."

"A flower, are you?" he chuckled to himself.

I glanced down at myself wrapped up in his sheets. "Not anymore." I said shyly, tucking my hair behind my ear.

He stubbed out the cigarette in the astray on his bedside table and focused his attention on me. He lifted my chin up with his finger and leaned in and pressed his soft, supple lips against mine and pulled away, leaving the taste of smoke with me.

He twirled a loose strand of my hair around his finger. "Know that my intentions were never to bed you when I offered for you to come back here." he said gently.

I knew that. He had a type of women and I wasn't it. He was usually fussy with woman, like he was with his drink at the bar, preferring the blonde type that have little to offer in the Brain department and a lot to offer in the bed department.

I dragged my teeth across my bottom lip, biting it to build up his anticipation. "I believe you." I beamed my moon blue eyes at him.

I had caught him off guard and trapped him in my gaze for a moment. "Your dress must be finished by now." he snapped out of my lure and hopped to his feet in a flash.

I pulled on his shirt and followed him downstairs and into the kitchen, he was right, it was finished. I watched as he took it out, shook it carefully, examined the former home of the stain and searched for the label. I must note; despite his drunken state, he was meticulous in his movements.

"You can't tumble dry it. I can hang it up in my airing cupboard, but it might take all night to dry." he explained. I shrugged to show him uncertainty hoping he'd take the lead and tell me what I wanted.

"You're welcome to stay if you want to." He smoothly pulled me closer to him and rested his hands around my waist. "You don't have to of course, but I wouldn't want you to get hurt." He gently dragged his thumb across my tender, abused ribs.

I briefly glanced down at my his hands on me and back up to meet his gaze. "You're an awfully kind stranger."

My phone began to ring from my bag before he could reply. I rummaged through it and pulled it out, answering without looking. Henry left the room to hang up the dress.

"Where are you I've been trying to call you for ages J. We had a date, or did you forget about that?" she rambled down the phone, I could hear the anger in her voice. I really did fuck up.

"I'm sorry, I completely forgot. I'm in the middle of something right now, but I'll make it up to you. I promise." I rambled desperately.

"Is that why you sound drunk? You're a shitty girlfriend, you know that?" she snapped back and hung up the phone on me.

I knew that.

I rubbed the palm of my hand against my face aggressively in a repetitive fashion. I felt sick to my stomach standing there in his clothes. I faced the counter, reached for my glass, sliding it along the counter with all the desperation to feel nothing flooding me and poured myself another drink.

"Are you okay?" Henry asked as he came back into the room.

"Not entirely. I'm a horrible person." I sighed.

"How could a delicate flower like you be a horrible person?" he smiled gently at me.

I shrugged and sipped my drink. The alcohol burned my throat as I sipped on it's addictive quality. I placed the glass down and licked my lips, I could still taste him.

"I, I." I stuttered.

He moved closer to me and tucked the hair behind my ear. "It's okay."

I was thinking about her, but I couldn't tell him that. I had to think of something and quick.

"The dress, sleeping with a stranger. I'm such a failure. I'm such a mess."

He stroked his fingers through my red tinted hair, giving me a sense of calm. "Hey, it was my fault your dress was stained, you're not a failure," he paused. "and as for sleeping with a stranger. We're both intoxicated, does it matter?"

I wiped the tears from my face with my hand. "Thank you." I uttered, my cheeks now tinged red with mascara smeared across them.

"Let's get you to bed." He scooped me up into his arms. I grabbed my bag and phone and wrapped my arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry." I whispered into his ear as he carried me upstairs.

The alcohol had gone to my head, everything felt fuzzy now. Everything but his strong arms. I knew who he was, I'd read his file, I'd stalked and studied him for weeks. Yet here I was finding comfort in him.

"You don't have to be."

He set me down on his bed, the Egyptian cotton brushed against my soft skin. "Stay with me." I said as I tugged on his arm.

His green eyes glistened in the light. He slipped into the bed next to me. I could feel his warmth as I drifted to sleep.

I opened my eyes and reached for my phone. 4AM. Perfect. I slipped out of the bed and searched the halls of his house until I came across his office.

A lavish desk was stood in front of a wall of bookshelves, but I was only interested in the filing cabinets to the left.

I opened the top drawer and flicked through the files. Nothing. Then to the middle drawer. Nothing. I crouched down and tugged on the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet, but it was locked. "Fuck!" I cursed to myself quietly.

"You're exactly right." I heard from behind me, but before I could move I felt something pressed against the back of my head. Fuck! It must be a gun.

"Who the fuck are you?" he asked.

A/N I know it's terrible, but I'm having fun writing it so.. enjoy!