The Visited

Chapter One

Max reached over and felt the empty spot on the bed next to him. He cracked open an eye and took a peek at the time on the alarm clock.

"Seven AM. She must be getting ready for work." He thought.

Max stretched before he sat up. "Babe?" he called.

No answer.

"Fuck this morning wood. Maybe Trish will be up for a quickie before she leaves."

Max rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom to take a piss and brush his teeth. He didn't bother getting dressed. Max knew one look at him naked, and Trish would beg for it.

Max strolled into the kitchen where Trish was making eggs at the stove. "Damn," he said. "Nothing like a sexy woman cooking me breakfast in the morning."

Trish didn't bother to glance back as she answered, "Who said I'm making you breakfast? I have to get to work."

"I see how it is. I guess you don't have time for any of this either," Max replied as he leaned against the counter nude.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Trish asked, finally turning around and looking at him.

Trisha's bright blue eyes went wide, and she nearly dropped the frying pan. Max didn't want to brag, but when you've got it, you've got it, and he had it.

Max had never had trouble getting girls, and he put the time in on his body to warrant the occasional boasting. Not to mention, junior wasn't all that junior. And at that moment, Max was more than ready to go.

Trisha composed herself, pretending she wasn't wet as fuck for him. She cleared her throat. "Um, I—"

"So, do you really need to get to work so soon?" Max asked while he closed the gap between them.

"Max—" Trish whined.

"Come on, baby. You have time. We'll be quick." Max gazed into her eyes and gave Trish his best brown-eyed puppy dog look.

"I can't, Max. Ugh! I hate when you do this to me," Trisha complained.

"I do this a lot."

"I know!" She rolled her eyes.

Suddenly, from behind them, the flame on the stove shot into the air and set a hanging hand towel on fire. Max pulled Trish away right before her hair went up in flames.

Trish screamed and clung onto Max for dear life.

"Trish, I need to put that out before the entire apartment catches on fire." Max moved her to the side and rushed to grab the fire extinguisher.

Quickly, he pointed the nozzle at the base of the fire and swept it across, extinguishing the flames.

"What the fuck was that?" Trish screeched.

"I don't fucking know! Did you have oil on the bottom of the pan?" Max asked accusingly.

"You're blaming me? No! There wasn't any oil on the pan. It was clean and the cleaning lady cleaned the stove yesterday!"

Trish was off the deep end. She'd always been a fucking drama queen, but hell if Max didn't love her, anyway.

"Okay, baby. Calm down." Max soothingly wrapped Trish in his arms and pulled her tight to him.

"What's going on around here lately?" Trisha cried into Max's shoulder.

Max wasn't sure, but Trish was right. Something weird was happening. Strange accidents kept occurring at random.