A Midnight Invitation
Who could say no?
Certainly not a lonely virgin like me. I barely hesitated before accepting.
Olivia moved with effortless grace, her every motion hypnotic. My throat went dry just watching her. The ache was unbearable.
She tugged me onto the mattress, then slid beneath the sheets, leaving only her wrist exposed. A delicate bracelet dangled from it, the initials JL etched into the metal.
I pointed. "What's JL stand for?"
Her fingers brushed the charm. "A gift from my sister, Jessica. JL is for her. I gave her one just like it with OE—my initials."
A memory flickered—Vincent wore a bracelet with OE too. Coincidence?
Lost in thought, I settled beside her. We kept a careful distance, but her perfume still wrapped around me. Thank God the bed was big enough—otherwise, I’d have been on the floor.
"Didn’t your sister come to the site with you?" Her scent curled into my lungs, sparking dangerous thoughts.
"She vanished." Her voice darkened. "A year ago, she took a job at a construction site to pay for school. Then—gone. No calls, no leads. My father’s heart nearly gave out from grief."
"Good people find their way back. Maybe she’ll walk through the door one day." The words felt hollow even as I said them.
"Thanks." A whisper of sadness clung to her voice. Without thinking, she inched closer, her warmth seeping into me.
The motel walls were paper-thin. Soon, Scarlett’s moans from next door punched through the silence.
The relentless sounds turned my ears red. Olivia flushed too. The noises dragged on, her perfume thickening the air until sleep felt impossible.
I wasn’t playing saint or predator—just fighting to keep my hands to myself.
Somehow, I finally dozed off.
Dawn came late. I woke to find Olivia curled against me.
Her skin glowed in the morning light, lashes fluttering against her cheeks. So delicate. So warm.
My body reacted before my brain could stop it.
She stirred, then froze when she realized where she was.
"Ah!"
A soft gasp. My grip was loose, so she slipped free easily, flustered and avoiding my eyes.
A mumbled "thanks" later, she bolted, cheeks blazing.
By the time I knocked on Vincent’s door, he answered looking wrecked, Olivia hovering behind him, yawning.
Too exhausted from last night’s antics to drive, he tossed me the keys.
Maybe because I’d kept my hands to myself, Olivia seemed softer toward me. She claimed the passenger seat.
Vincent hauled Scarlett into the back—plenty of space for her to straddle his lap.
Today, Scarlett wore a loose white tee and black shorts, but the casual outfit did nothing to hide her curves.
Vincent’s hand slid under her sleeve, groping without shame.
Scarlett squirmed, her face tight with discomfort—nothing like yesterday’s enthusiasm.
Women. Moods change faster than the weather. I bit my tongue.
Vincent, though, had zero restraint. His breathing turned ragged, hands roaming like he owned her.
Last night clearly hadn’t been enough. Not even in broad daylight.
Scarlett whimpered. "Vincent, stop—"
Her protests only fired him up. His grip turned punishing.
Her cries sharpened.
Olivia and I burned with secondhand embarrassment.
I white-knuckled the wheel—the road ahead was no joke.
Then, at a deserted intersection, two cars boxed us in.
I barely registered them—until the lead vehicle swerved, forcing me to brake hard.
Four guys with bats piled out, slamming their weapons against our doors.
Vincent, a road-hardened veteran, shoved Scarlett aside and rolled down his window. "Gentlemen. Let’s talk."
"Talk this," the bald leader spat, jabbing his bat at Vincent’s face.
The air turned to gunpowder.
"Baby—he forced me!" Scarlett burst into tears, jabbing a finger at Vincent.
The pieces clicked.
We’d walked right into a honeytrap.