The Dancer

5. The Letter

His hands glided up her waist with smooth precision, wanting to take in her entire body. Gliding up her shirt, pushing the fabric over her head. His eyes couldn't stop staring at her white lace strapless band bra. His lips went down to her chest, nibbling on the skin. He wanted to savor every single moment. She let out a soft subtle moan that send shivers down his spine and make his appendage twitch against his slacks. He felt the rage build within him, his hands gripping tighter on the side of her stomach, holding her waist. He had a deep craving, his entire body wanted her, the taste, the smell, the touch, the sight. All of him wanted to indulge in her. He wanted to be deep within her, pulling her hair, hearing her scream his name, gasping and moaning away until she shook in ecstasy. His eyes looked down her beautiful body like a predator staring down its prey. He gave her a quick shove, her back lying flat on the bed. She squealed for a moment when he shoved her, then he proceeded to work his belt, knowing exactly what he planned to do to Sara.

Malcolm woke up from his dream with his heart racing and his manhood straight up, saluting the dream filled with Sara. He gave a growl, his body needing a release.

Although his cock throbbed painfully, he was thanking God that he didn't wake with one of his migraines. He had court today and he couldn't skip that simply because he was slowly dying from the most painful migraine in the world.

His migraines were horrible, ones that made him sick to his stomach causing him to vomit and groan in pain for hours. He'd lay on the floor of his bathroom with the lights off in dire need of help. At times Regina - his housekeeper and caretaker - would call his close friend Dr. Philemon for help. Sometimes he'd be out for two maybe three days before returning to work. Quinn and the other partners were just glad he had a reason and a doctor's note not to mention he kept up on his work. As long as Malcolm was winning cases like he always did, he could miss weeks of coming into work.

Today was not one of those days. Instead, he was met with one decision, one cure: a cold shower.

___________________________

Her hair was up in a messy bun, a scarf wrapped thickly around her neck and a leather jacket was on to keep her warm. She wore a blue loose, quarter sleeved shirt, a black leather short skater skirt that was mid-thigh but flared out. Her near see-through back stockings almost showed their best because the skirt was pretty short.

Sara walked down her street to her dorm, unlocking the front door and stepping into the main hall. She moved around a few people until she got to the mail slots, she looked through and finally found hers, she unlocked the box with a key and took out the pile of mail she had procrastinated to pick up. Her earbuds played loudly, a classical piece of Yo-Yo Ma. She turned around, flipping through her mail. Bill, credit card offers, school information, scholarship information, dance academy offer, a letter...

Her eyebrows furrowed at the letter. A single white envelope with only her name printed in black ink in capital letters. She turned the letter around and proceeded to open it as she walked back to her room. While walking up the stairs she opened the single piece of paper, folded three times. She stopped suddenly in her hallway as she read it.

Dearest Sara,

Your sinful ways are too much for one to see and not act. You're dancing is beyond beautiful and beyond comprehension. You can light up a room with the sway of your hips and the smile on your face. I cannot bear to not have you. After weeks of seeing you, I must declare something to you. You are mine. Until the day that I die, you are forever mine. Be careful, my love.

Yours, forever.

She swallowed hard. Fear crept over her with such strength that her body was visibly shaking. She looked around the hall, scared whoever wrote this was watching. She bit her lip and folded the letter. With her shaking, it was hard to put the letter back into the envelope. That's was when she felt the film of the Polaroid photo.