Callie Hunter

Identity: Part One

I

She opened her eyes, but darkness greeted her. Shivering in the dark of the night, she sat up. She rested her hand to her head and rubbed a strange bump. How did that get there? The moonlight illuminated the blood on her hands as she pulled them away from her tangled hair. It looked black in the midnight’s beam, shimmering as she wriggled her fingers. She wasn’t hurt, was she?

Something wasn’t right. She stood and took a step. As her heels sunk into the moist mud, she crashed down to the ground. Her hands squelched as she caught her fall.

“Fuck.”

The mud merged with the blood, creating a disgusting paste between her fingers and underneath her nails. She grabbed her, once white shoes from the mud and strolled across the open field. Her feet sunk into the damp ground with every step. Where exactly was she walking? She had no fucking clue. She walked until she found a footpath. Great. An empty street. Where was she going?

She searched her pockets for anything. A packet of cigarettes, a wallet and car keys. Not a bad ‘how-to-get-the-fuck-out-of-the-middle-of-nowhere’ plan. With each step she took the cold ground beneath her feet made her shudder. She found a row of cars and she stopped to analyse each option: the first was a baby pink Mini Cooper. God help her if that was the car she owned. With a deep breath, she slipped the car key into the slot, twisted it, but it didn’t open. Thank fuck for that.

The second option was a black Nissan Note. Relatively big for a woman of her size. She tilted her head to the side and slipped the key into the slot. No such luck. What if none of these cars belonged to her, and she’d parked miles away?

“Please, dear God if you exist, help me find my fucking car.”

The final option in the row was a grey Volkswagen Polo. Grey, somewhat bland, boring. Why did she pick grey? Sigh. She slipped the key in and thankfully, the door opened. “Jackpot.”
II

 

She slipped into the driver’s seat and opened the glove box. The cool winter’s breeze swept through the car, making the hairs on her arms, bristle. She threw her muddy shoes into the backseat and slammed the door. “That’s better.”

Car located, great, but several more questions came to mind. Where the hell should she go now? Did she even remember where she was going? There was one place she wanted to go and that was to the pub. Her head thumped, pounding harder as every passing second. A good drink would cure it for now. That or a dozen ibuprofen.

What was she looking for? Right. The glove box. She tugged everything out and piled it onto the passenger seat. The moon caught the bloody-muddy fingertips on the brilliant white paper.

“Perfect.” With a groan she searched every inch of the car for a purse. A coat. Anything. A black Gucci purse caught her eye. Well, she certainly had expensive taste. Tugging it open, she pawed through until she found baby wipes. As she removed every trace from her fingers, picking the dirt from beneath her nails, she mumbled to herself.

What day was it? Friday? Thursday?

She threw the wipes into the purse, then, explored the paperwork beside her. Driver’s licence papers, birth certificate, directions to a hotel … a hotel? Her eyes narrowed and she nibbled her lower lip. What really caught her eye was the hotel key tucked into the envelope paper clipped to the reservation. It was booked for tonight. In fact, for a few hours ago. Did she have a phone?

Her search continued until she produced a black iPhone 5. She unlocked the phone to find two missed calls and one text from Asher. Who the fuck was that? She opened the first message; her lips curved into a smile as she read.

 

I’m waiting for you. Make sure you call me when you get here. I can’t wait to get my hands on you, naughty girl. Don’t make me wait too long, I’ll have to punish you. Don’t take too long or I’ll start without you.

 

Well, she had a very interesting night planned. Fuck, the shoes. She patted the backseat until she felt the muddy heels. She pulled them closer and cleaned them. Shimmering like brand new, she slipped them onto her feet and threw the remainder of the documents into the glove box. She had everything she needed.

She turned the engine on, listening to the radio blasting as she scanned stations. What did she feel like listening to? Talk shows were far from interesting. Modern pop was not her thing. The very sound of the auto-tuned voices made her skin crawl. She settled for rock music; the bass almost shook the windows from the pressure. That was more like it. She buckled up and held the steering wheel. Did she even know how to drive? She’d find out …

III

 

Surprisingly, she remembered everything. Like riding a bike.

She ignored the speed limit, cruising through the empty streets. The streets were hers. She had ultimate freedom – but what could she do with it? With the window cranked down, the wind blew her long hair, as her fingers squeezed the steering wheel. Is this what it felt like to live?

As she accelerated, the sudden lights behind her caught her attention. Fuck. The cops. What did they want? She slowed down and pulled up on the shoulder of the road, waiting for the officer to approach. What a wonderful start to an evening.

She pouted her lips, when the young man approached. “Can I help you, officer?”

The man leaned down and lifted a brow. “Can you turn that down?”

She barely heard him over the music, so she turned it down. “What did you say?”

“Were you aware than you were breaking the speed limit, ma’am?”

She hummed. “Yes.”

“I’ll need to see your licence.”

Fuck. She searched through his purse for her driver’s licence. Credit cards … lots of them. Finally, she found exactly what she was looking for. The photograph certainly wasn’t flattering, but what photo ever was. It resembled a prison mug shot. If she wasn’t careful, that’s exactly where she was heading.

“Mrs Kerr, I’m going to have give you a fine. You understand the speed limit is seventy but you were going over ninety.”

She nodded. “Yes, I am aware of that.”

“Have you been drinking?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

The officer leaned closer. “I’ll have to alert your husband, Mrs Kerr.”

“There’s no need. I’m sure you can let this one go.”

Who the fuck was her husband? She looked at her finger, but there was no ring.

“It doesn’t look good when an officer’s wife is found speeding, Aurora.”

Aurora Kerr. What an interesting name. “No, it isn’t but it won’t happen again. In fact, I’m rather late. Are we done?” She offered her sweetest smile.

After a minute of rather uncomfortable eye contact, the cop nodded. “Okay. I’ll still need to fine you.”

“That’s okay.”

“Speed limit is seventy. Seven-zero. Got that?”

“Yes, officer.” What a fucking wanker.

She rolled her window up and drove away, careful to follow the limit until the cop disappeared from the rear-view mirror. When the police car turned left at the roundabout, she went straight towards the hotel. It wasn’t hard to find. She pulled up in the parking space and stared up at the tall building. There weren’t many lights on. Most of the rooms had their curtains closed. Whoever this Asher was certainly intrigued her more than her husband. Marrying a cop, what a way to escape potential trouble.

She opened the text and responded quickly: Okay I’m here. I’ll see you soon.

With any luck, Asher would live up to her expectations – six foot tall, dark hair, deep chocolate eyes and heavenly abs. What did her husband look like?

Oh well. She could worry about that another night.

 


 

IV

 

Aurora stepped through the lobby, attracting glances from employees and passing visitors. What were they looking at? She rushed to the lift and waited for the doors to open.

Well, fuck. Her hair wasn’t exactly tidy. The dried ruby stains, were bound to attract strange looks. She looked down at her jeans and the mud patches were everywhere. On her legs, her butt and her knees. Not the best look, but there was no time to change it now.

She stepped inside and pressed the button for the fourth floor. The elevator shook; what if the cables weren’t strong enough to handle the long-term usage? What if they snapped and she went crashing down to the floor, trapped beneath the wreckage, suffering a slow and painful death? With each desperate breath, the pain would sear.

Sigh. No such luck. She stepped out into the hallway and looked at every door as she passed. Four-ten. Four-eleven. Four-thirteen … she stepped further and further through the corridor until she found the right room. She slipped the key into the slot, and with a beep, the handle clicked. She pushed it down then opened it.

The perfect cream walls reflected the artificial light and the mirror gave her peek at the semi-naked man on the bed. Delightful abs were a wonderful sight. She dropped her purse and closed the door. “Asher?”

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Sorry. I look like shit.”

Asher abandoned the bed and approached her. The boxers framed him perfectly. Clearly well endowed, Asher was truly worth the trouble. She struggled to keep her eyes above the waist.

He cupped her cheek, then pushed her against the wall, forcing a kiss upon her. She welcomed it, however. What a man.

“What the fuck happened to you?” He held her hands and looked at her rather disgusting attire.

“Wish I fucking knew.”

“Don’t worry, you’re still sexy.” He picked her up and carried her towards the bed. With a plop she landed, staring up at him. “Thought you were arriving an hour ago.“

“So did I. Don’t suppose you’re my husband?”

“Certainly not.” Asher unzipped her jeans and tugged them down roughly. “You’re a very messy girl.”

“About to get messier.”

He smirked. “Atta girl.”


 

V

 

Aurora threw her muddy shirt to the floor. Beneath the epitome of perfection, she pouted her rouged lips. “Are you done looking?”

“Not yet.”

She tapped her fingers against the bed. “If you don’t hurry up, I’ll play with myself.”

“Not on my watch.” Asher tugged her pink panties down, his muscles tensing as he did so. Such a pleasant sight. His lips attached to her thigh, scattering kisses across the soft skin.

“So tell me … how long have we been doing this?”

He mumbled between kisses, “A year.”

She pursed her lips. A year. Quite an affair. How did she keep it quiet? She shoved these thoughts aside when Asher settled between her thighs. She rested her head back to the pillow and closed her eyes.

“When does he want you home?”

“Don’t have a clue.”

“Stay until tomorrow?”

“What’s in it for me? What stops me from going home?” Wherever home was.

“This …”

She tilted her chin forward, her lips parted and she sighed. Slipping her fingers through her matted hair. She got comfortable on the soft, white covers. She lifted her hips but Asher grasped them, pinning them down once more.

Her skin crawled; something slithered through her veins, leaving her body overly sensitive. Any tiny movement caused her fingers to clench, her toes to curl. She whimpered quietly.

“You like that, baby girl?”

She didn’t respond. Her fingers slipped through his messy hair. He didn’t need much encouragement. She closed her eyes and a smile spread before she could suppress it. She rolled her hips and settled her breathing. Every tiny movement he made sent strange sensations through her. How could she forget this feeling?

He pulled away but she trapped him between her thighs. “Don’t stop.” Thank god Asher was an obedient boy. It didn’t take long for her body to fall victim to his mouth. Her shallow breaths quickened, her toes curling as she gripped his hair. Her final breaths brought her closer to a sensation she could hardly remember, something stronger than she’d ever felt before. She choked out Asher’s name as a wave of ecstasy mixed with serenity struck; every ounce of energy she had expelled at his will.

Her body relaxed and struggled to catch her breath.

“Fuck me,” she mumbled to herself.

“Oh, I plan to.”

Before Aurora could say a single word, he’d filled her. She arched her chest against his, choking out his name once more. He unhooked her strapless bra then launched it across the room.

“You’re quite a handful, aren’t you?” Aurora whimpered, brushing her lips against his.

He cupped her breasts. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You naughty boy. I’ll have to punish you. All night long.”

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This entry was published on October 22, 2013 at 9:53 pm. It’s filed under Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

3 thoughts on “Identity: Part One

  1. Pingback: Identity: Part Two | Callie Hunter

  2. Pingback: Identity: Part Three | Callie Hunter

  3. Pingback: ‘Identity’ Release Date! | Callie Hunter

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