Chapter 2
Con had left, and Shana was alone. She had taken a long, hot bath, then had put on fresh undies and a dress, not yet feeling like going to bed. It turned out it was just as well, because the door buzzer sounded, and when she opened the door, she saw it was her neighbor from downstairs, David Jeffreys.
"David!" she said, astonished. "What are you doing here?"
"Actually," David said, flashing a badge, "I'm a private investigator working for someone who has wanted you stopped for a long time now, Shana What's more, after today, I have all the information to stop you."
"What are you talking about?" she gasped, stepping back into the apartment, and he followed.
David was a slender man, balding, in his late forties or early fifties, exceptionally good-looking, with clear eyes and a keen alert mind. Shana had always enjoyed speaking with him on a number of subjects, but she had never discussed her work.
"My partner followed you to Ireland," he told her, showing her photos of herself on the plane, getting off in Ireland, meeting with various people, standing with the contraband she had smuggled into the country, and counting the money she had received.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"That depends on you. You see, I followed you when you returned here, and I watched you. I know where you went to eat, what you ate, and I was able to overhear everything you said."
"I suppose you're telling me this because you want a payoff?" she asked. "Fine, I'll pay you. How much money?"
"The first half sounds like a good idea," he nodded. "But as to your paying money, well, I think the time has come for us to make a change in you. I don't want money. I want another kind of payoff."
"What are you talking about?" she asked.
"I'm talking about fucking," he said, bluntly. "I want your body."
"Don't be disgusting!" she barked at him.
"You amaze me," he said, taking off his jacket. "You really amaze me. I don't understand you."
"What don't you understand?" Shana asked. "You think that because you like sex, I have to like it?"
"How can you like something you've never tried?" he asked, removing his tie. He was wearing a gray suit with white stripes.
"What do you think you're doing?" she wanted to know.
"I'm getting ready to get into bed with you," he told her.
"You're out of your mind," she insisted. "I've tol you more than once, it's a sin. I want nothing to do with it."
"Now that's why you amaze me," he said, walking over to her and undoing the top button of her dress.
When her hand went up to close it, he smacked her hand away and undid the next button.
"Wh-what are you doing?" she gasped.
"Getting ready to fuck you," he replied. "What's more, you're going to do it, too."
"No!" she shouted. "I won't commit a sin."
"That, in itself, is one of the biggest sins of all," he laughed.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"You won't commit a sin," he snarled, undoing the rest of the buttons on her dress. "Just saying that makes you a hypocrite, dear Shana. Hypocrisy is one of the seven deadly sins."
"I don't think I'm being hypocritical," she insisted as he pulled her full slip up over her head.
"Oh, no? How about that nonsense about how much you love children."
"That's not nonsense," she insisted, standing before him in panties and brassiere, suddenly terrified, knowing if she didn't think fast and talk him out of this, the one thing she had dreaded all her life was going to take place.
"That plastic explosive you sent over to Ireland," he told her, spinning her around, unsnapping her brassiere, then whipping it away from her. "It sometimes blows up little children. But you don't care as long as you get your money. That's not only hypocritical, but greedy," he insisted as she crossed her arms over two, full, perfect breasts with pink-tipped nipples.
"Stop this!" she insisted.
He laughed harshly and undid his belt buckle, dropping his pants, revealing the huge bulge that sent his under shorts way out in front of him. "Even an hour ago, you were asking your partner for a bigger cut of the money. That, too, is greed, Shana dear. Another of the seven deadly sins."
"You're very good with words," she gasped. "Too good! You turn and twist everything I say, making it all seem like lies. I hate you, David. I hate you with all my heart."
"Hate-the third of the seven sins," he mocked, removing his shirt.
"Stop this!" she yelled.
"These old apartment buildings have nice, thick plaster walls," he laughed. "Yell your head off!"
"Get out!" she yelled, backing away from him. "I don't want you here. Get out!"
"You want me, but you won't admit it. You need me."
"I don't need you," she snapped. "I don't need any-one."
"You don't need anyone?" he taunted. "False pride, Shana, love. Pride, another of the deadly sins. The fourth sin you've committed dear, Shana."
"Please," she whimpered. "Don't do this to me. I don't want this. This is more sinful than anything you claim I've done. All I want is to be left alone. I want to do nothing, absolutely nothing."
"Sloth," he laughed harshly, kicking off his shoes. "The fifth of the sins."
"You're twisting everything I say," she insisted.
"Remember what you heard earlier, about the only way to get a mink?"
"Don't, David, don't do this terrible thing," she begged.
"Remember how you said you saw that woman on the plane wearing one, and you didn't think she deserved it, and how you wished you were able to afford one? My listening device is very good. I heard everything."
"Don't!" she sobbed, turning away from him as he pulled off his socks, standing on one foot at a time.
"That was envy," he told her. "The sixth of the seven deadly sins."
"I think I'm going mad," she gasped, trying to clap her hands over her ears.
"No you're not, love," he assured her. "You're about to become a fulfilled woman for the first time in your life. However," he told her, suddenly slipping his hands into the waistband of her panties and yanking them down around her ankles before she had a chance to stop him. When she refused to lift her feet, he simply tore them from her ankles. "In the restaurant, you ate more than any three people I know. I saw you."
"Now you're saying it's a sin to enjoy food?" she gasped.
"Gluttony, dear Shana, gluttony. The seventh of the seven sins. You, who claim you don't want to commit a sin, have committed all seven of the seven deadly sins. Do you realize lust isn't even listed among the seven sins? Yet you maintain it's sinful to fuck."
He gripped her arm and pulled her unwilling body along to the bedroom. There, he pulled back the bedspread and hurled her onto the bed, saying, "See? I'm doing this right. I'm not trying to grab you in the back seat of a car, nor am I trying to screw you on the floor. Only a bed is good enough for sweet Shana."
"David, don't ... please!"
"Oh, but in order to please, I have to," he insisted.
She kicked at him, and he gripped her ankles and tugged them apart. In an instant he was between them, pressing his weight on top of hers, and Shana, aghast, became aware of the throbbing lance pressing against her soft, helpless white flesh. He was going to do it! He fully intended burying the steaming length of it in the narrow virginal embouchure between her thighs.
"Don't!" she begged. "I'll do anything ... anything ..."
"Oh you will," he nodded. "You'll do anything I want-seven times, once for each sin, and then I'll tell my client I was unable to find out anything about you. Seven times, Shana. I'm not unreasonable. After the seventh time I'll turn around and walk out of your life forever. Then you can go on committing all those other sins again, but not as a virgin. Your virginity is one prize that belongs to me."
"But I don't want to sleep with you," she insisted.
"Fine," he shrugged. "Then I'll turn your name over to the British authorities. They, in turn, will contact the U.S. Government, and will request that you be turned over to them for crimes against the Crown. Make up your mind, Shana. You either do things my way, or go to prison. The IRA will make a heroine out of you. In fact, they'll order you to go on a hunger strike to replace one of their people in prison already dead, and if you refuse, you'll be shot or stabbed or blown up. So you'll have a choice of starving to death, or being killed by the IRA. Or you can fuck for me ... seven times, and after the seventh time, I'll turn around and walk out of your life forever."
"All right," she gasped, feeling his weight on her. "But not like this ..."
"Just like this," he snapped. "The first of the seven deadly sins is Pride. We have to take that pride away from you, Shana. I have to humble you a little."
"Don't be so crude," she gasped, suddenly kicking at him, pulling out from under him, thinking if she had to go through with this horror, let it at least be in the dark, with the covers pulled over the two of them. She didn't want to look at the way he would violate her helpless body. She wanted gentleness, tenderness, even if she wasn't going to receive love.
David was off the bed again, cornering her, grabbing her arm, shoving her toward the bed again, anxious to get on with it. Like all the others, he too had waited. The only difference was, he had not let her know. He hurled her onto the bed, one of two twin beds in the room, and she once more flailed wildly in an attempt to get up, only to be pushed right back down again. Once more he lay beside her, his arm around her naked waist, trying to press his mouth to hers, wanting more than sex, for he was enamored of the redhead, and though he knew she didn't love him, he wanted more than mere fucking. His mouth pressed itself firmly against her lips in a powerful, willful kiss, letting her know how determined he was to have her.
"Huuuummmmphhhhh ... " the lovely redheaded Shana moaned, kicking her slender white legs out and pounding against David's back with her fists. But all she succeeded in doing was getting him that much more aroused. Realizing this, she stopped, hoping if she put up no resistance whatsoever, he would dislike handling "dead meat."
But David was aware of the behavior of women- especially red-haired Irish women with tempers and desires that matched the color of their hair. This one was going to come around. She had a lot of fight in her, but conquering her would be that much more worthwhile. His hand slid along her naked thigh, running smoothly up and down the fleshy column, feeling the softness, the tenderness, the enjoyable feel of her. Her flesh was like warm silk covering satin, and her clamped thighs hid that most precious treasure, the one no other man had ever been able to plumb. Now it was going to be his.
"You might as well relax, Shana," he crooned to her, his hand tightening its grip as his arm grasped her waist. He rolled closer to her, once again trying to force those columnar thighs apart, aware of her constant attempts to resist him. He was amused by it all. David knew himself to be an extraordinary lover, and those women with whom he had made love, always wanted more. When he had time, he gave them more. But Shana was new, different, another world to conquer, and conquer her he would.
His hand forced her slender thighs to separate. She strained, but it was to no avail. He had her thighs opening, and now his middle finger reached out and probed between her soft vaginal lips, lips no male had ever touched before. Even her gynecologist was a female. He touched the slippery wetness in the crevice of her seething cunt.
"David!" she shrieked in protest, totally unused to what she was feeling, her body thrashing to remove him.
But his finger was already pressed into the delicate center of her, spreading the tantalizing split of her wetly cringing vaginal labia wider apart, rubbing his finger back and forth until it found the tender bud of her clitoris, a nubbin unused to any kind of heavy friction, and he began a steady massaging motion.
"Stop it!" Shana gasped, loudly protesting the way he was handling her helpless body. "It hurts! You're hurting me down there!" she insisted, trying hard to twist away.
The bedspread was already rumpled beneath them as the two of them began thrashing wildly on the bed. The overpowered, redheaded woman became more and more frightened as she realized David, at this point wasn't paying the least little bit of attention to her wants and needs. He was doing to her what she had done to other men all her life: he was using her for his own benefit, and if some good came of it for her, well fine and dandy. If not, too bad. The man was bent on carrying out his threat, and her mind reeled under the thought. Seven times! Over how long a period? She knew men didn't have the stamina women supposedly had. How long would it take him to violate her body seven times? Was it possible for him to do it all in a twelve or twenty-four hour period? Doubtful! It would take days, maybe weeks. Maybe he was one of those men who didn't believe in at least one copulation a day, in which case she would be with him a long, long time. The worst part of it was, she didn't dare try to escape. He obviously knew all about her arms and explosive smuggling, and he wasn't the kind of man stupid enough to keep the information solely in his head. No doubt he had everything on paper, and he intended that if anything happened to him, that information would be passed on by someone else.
"Why?" she gasped. "Why me?"
"Don't you understand?" David asked. "You're untouchable. No man has ever been able to have you. That's a privilege I feel reserved for me. I drove you to the airport just to make sure you went on Aer-Lingus Airlines, and I followed in a private plane. I watched how you managed to get all that stuff through Customs once you were over there. You're a cool bitch, Shana, an amazing woman. I admire you. In fact, since you're retiring, when all this is over, if you can find it within yourself to feel about me as I do about you, maybe we'll form a partnership of our own. There's as much money in tracking down smugglers as there is in smuggling. The only risk is in making certain the smuggler doesn't know who you are. Now who would suspect a lovely lady like you of being a detective? I think you'd like that, Shana."
"Yes," she nodded, thinking she would do or say anything to delay the inevitable. "Let's talk about it. Let's make plans."
"We will," he assured her. "But first, you have to go through with your part of the bargain. Look at it this way, Shana. If you're really good enough in bed, we might even marry. Then a man can't testify against his wife."