Losing Control Read Free Page B

the make-up guys and special effects teams can whip
up.”
    “I feel the same way. My favorite old
horror film is The Spiral Staircase . Connie had one of her first
walk-ons in that picture. You’ve probably never heard of it.”
    “No, but I’d like to see it. Maybe
next time it’s on, you could invite me up for a viewing?”
    Fawn ventured a full look at his
face. His eyes were scanning her figure as he spoke. She felt really
uncomfortable, began to back towards the door.
    “Maybe. Well, Good Night.”
    He followed her out onto the screen
porch, held the outer door for her.
    “Would you like me to walk you home?”
    “No, I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl,
you know.”
    “Yeah, just the right size.”
    She was glad the porch was dark. His
warm breath had brushed her cheek, causing her own breath to run short. It
seemed insane to her that he was having such a strong effect on her emotions.
She’d been near attractive guys before; Richard had lots of handsome though
rather slimy friends. None of them had brought forth any kind of arousal in
her. And there were the usual pool sweepers and pizza delivery pretty boys. Not
once had she been anything but professional with them.
    But this one was different. Even
before she’d seen his face he was driving her to wild fantasies like she’d
never dared have in the past. And now that she had gotten so close, looked into
those eyes, felt his touch, and his warm, sweet breath she was desperately
hungry for him. It mortified her to the point that she rushed from the beach
house yard towards the pathway without getting her bearings. Her flip flop slid
off her foot, twisting her ankle; she tumbled to the ground.
    “Whoa!” he said. “What’s the hurry?
Are you okay?”
    Fawn gathered her dignity and drew up
on her feet.
    “I’m fine,” she lied. “Her ankle was
smarting, but she refused to let him see her pain. “Good Night.”
    “Good Night.”
    She retrieved her shoe and hurried up
the path without looking back.
    Once on her patio she slumped down on
a chaise lounge and began to rub her swelling ankle.
    “Great!” she thought. “Just what I need!”
    She entered the house, headed
straight for the bathroom. Her panties had felt strangely damp while at the
beach house. She pulled them down, expecting an early period, but they were wet
from her being aroused, soaked through in fact. Fawn’s chin dropped. She looked
into the mirror at her windblown hair, flushed cheeks and tired eyes.
    “Who are you?” she asked herself.
    The next morning her ankle seemed
fine, if a tad bit sore. She thanked her lucky stars and set out to have a busy
day of cleaning and jewelry designing. First, though, she grabbed a tub of
strawberry yogurt from the fridge and ate it slowly as she always did, savoring
the cool, tart pleasure of it. Garbo and Harlow were out on the side porch,
curled up and napping on a white-painted iron daybed that Connie had kept out
there just for Fawn. It was a perfect place to sleep on warm summer nights,
with the sea singing her a soothing lullaby and the breeze calming her fears.
    Across the very private side yard
stood a tiny guest house; it was only a square stone box divided up into a
small living area with a kitchenette, a bedroom, and a bath, with its own
little porch offering glorious sea views. Fawn had awakened with the guest
house in her mind, and decided it would make a much better craft studio. It had
sat empty for years; didn’t even have any furniture, which gave her a great excuse
to peruse all the local flea markets and shops.
    Her financial situation was pretty
well fixed. The sale of the mansion netted a good sum which was to be split
down the middle between her and Richard. The divorce laws in California were fairly straightforward, at
least as she understood them. Stephanie had advised her to hold off on taking
possession of the bungalow until the divorce was final, so Richard would have
no claim on it. She did, though she didn’t think