When She Turns Her Back Novels & Stories

she dismissed her smile still in place. She turned toward the door then Paused. "When he's done with you..." She glanced over her shoulder, her smile sharp as a scalpel. "...I'll be waiting to finish it off." The door clicked shut behind her.

"Turn over." He only had to give the order once. Anny flipped onto her back with desperate speed, her chest heaving, her eyes wide and glazed with unshed tears of need. Her breasts rose and fell with each ragged breath, her nipples tight and aching, begging for attention she knew she couldn't give herself.

"You're no fun." "Okay," she relents, a real smile finally gracing her lips. "But you have to turn around and not look back, okay." I sigh dramatically but turn my back. I'm no stranger to her body. I remember every inch, every curve, every gasp. Since that first time, I haven't even thought about another woman. "Don't turn around," she warns again.

She smiles and walks up next to him. "Turn around." She turns around with her back to him. He unsnaps her bra strap. "Turn around." She turns around with her front to him.

Once. The way you turn back when you are not performing turning back but actually doing it, when your body turns before your decision catches up, when the room behind you is still warm and the door in front of you opens onto something you have chosen and you are entirely certain and entirely not certain simultaneously and your face does not show all of that because showing all of that is not something a person can do and still walk through the door. She walked through the door. Cut. Nobody said anything for a moment.

She didn't look back. Behind her, the room was turning into a furnace.

What the hell just happened? Before I can respond, she unfolds her arms and clasps her hands behind her back, turning on her heel without another word. She doesn’t wait for me, doesn’t glance back to see if I’ll follow. She walks toward the exit with an ease that leaves me rooted in place, unable to move.

I turned around-my back to her front-to make it easier for her to access. Oddly, she hugged me from behind before diving her hands into my pockets. Her cheek was warm on my spine, and I wanted her in my arms. Yet turning to face her broke the spell, and she grabbed the keys quickly, without so much as a brush up. The warmth of her hand pressing against my chest quickened my pulse. If she just tilted her head, I'd have an invitation to taste her lips. Instead, she used me for balance to reach down and remove her heels one at a time. The girly shoes dangled from her fingertips when she rounded the front of the truck to take the wheel.

With the very little strength she had left, she turned around behind her with quivering eyes. “J-jude?”

His eyes darted back, nodded to her, telling her to move. With a loud thumping heart that she thinks is audible even miles apart, she stood up, exposing her back that was no longer covered with the slabs and turned to face the house. She took long fearless strides towards the back door and the assassin that was guarding it had finally recognized her uninvited presence.