Stormy Night by Jade Stratton

CHAPTER ONE

    The weather outside reflected Anne’s mood. Rain hammered down on the roof from the storm that was sweeping through the area, punctuated by flashes of lightning and peals of thunder. It had been pouring all day, and the weather channel didn’t give any encouraging news for the coming weekend.
    Not that I had any plans , she lamented. It was Friday evening after a twelve hour day at work and she was sitting at home, alone, watching the TV from the comfort of her bed, letting it lull her into a world that seemed better and more interesting than her own. She’d recently broken up with her boyfriend of almost a year to the day, finally coming to the realization that he was a complete jerk. Actually, being a manipulative, self-centered weasel had been one thing, but cheating on her was something else. Sure, they hadn’t been married, but Anne had made the mistake of assuming that Carl shared her view that their relationship was a monogamous one.  
    “I never told you I wouldn’t see anyone else,” had been his lame response when she had confronted him with the pair of panties — not her own — that she’d found under their bed. Correction: her bed. It was her apartment, it was her furniture, and here Carl had been, fucking some other woman (and probably more than one over the year they’d been together) between the sheets that Anne had bought and paid for.  
    Carl had made the mistake of thinking that he could just take her in his heavily muscled arms and give her his Hollywood smile to smooth things over. The smile had transformed into an “O” of surprise and pain when she rammed her knee into his crotch, sending him sprawling through the still open entry door right back out into the hallway before she slammed the door on his mewling protestations.  
    Even now, nearly a month later, the memory brought a smile to her lips. Looking back on it, she had a hard time imagining why she’d dated Carl in the first place. Sure, he had been a complete hunk, which would have been a decent excuse for a one night stand or a short-term affair for the sex, for Carl had been good in bed. But beyond that, once you scratched his well-muscled skin, he was all about Carl. He had been living off of her, parasitizing her, and hadn’t even held a job for the six months.
    Forget him , she scolded herself. He’s gone . And now her bed and her life were empty of companionship. She sometimes wondered if being with a philandering jerk was better than being alone. Some of her friends counseled one way, some counseled another. All Anne knew was that she wasn’t happy, but she wasn’t sure what to do about it. Get a kitten and start down the road to being a cat lady .
    Pushing those thoughts aside, she sipped on a glass of wine and watched her usual shows, wishing she could be one of the glamorous, sexy women parading across the screen, doing interesting things with interesting people. Being in love and being loved.
    As the last of the shows ended, she paused for a moment to take stock. She admitted to herself that she knew some interesting people and, if push came to shove, would admit that she had been to some interesting places. But the bitter truth was that she didn’t have many real friends, people she felt comfortable going out with, and had no prospects for boyfriends among the men with whom she was acquainted. Not that they weren’t interested in her, of course: she was a buxom brunette with beautiful dark brown eyes and fair skin, with a 36D chest that never failed to catch attention wherever she went. But it seemed that all of the men who expressed interest in her fell into two camps: ones who were already married and were just looking for a fling, and ones in whom she wasn’t at all interested. There just didn’t seem to be anyone left who was in between.
    Groaning in frustration, wondering idly if she shouldn’t try a lesbian relationship just for something different, she got up and began to undress for bed.