Free Soultaker by Bryan Smith Page A

pockets. Pathetic. But then, this wasn’t the sort of thing a geek got to see every day—a beautiful naked woman in the flesh. Not without paying good money anyway.
    “I’m, uh, T-Todd.”
    Bridget smiled. “Pleased to meet you, Toddy.”
    “L-likewise.”
    Bridget knelt to pick up her clothes, deliberately extending the act to prolong the man’s erotic torture. She bent over at the waist, keeping her legs straight as she stood on her tiptoes and thrust her round ass into the air. Then she stood straight again and held her skimpy clothes in front of her chest.
    “Say, Todd, could I come into your apartment to get dressed and use your phone?”
    Todd grinned, displaying rows of crooked teeth with bits of food wedged between them. “Sure! I’m, uh, always happy to help out a lady in distress.”
    Bridget sashayed past him, saying, “
Such
a gentleman.”
    Todd followed her into the apartment and closed the door.
    Bridget pushed up against him, snaking an arm around hiswaist. She turned the dead bolt, heard the satisfying click of the bolt sliding home, then slid her hand under his T-shirt. Todd was too captivated by Bridget’s compelling cleavage to note the click of the lock. His mouth hanging open again, he stared down at the large breasts pressed against the front of his T-shirt.
    Bridget smirked. “See something you like, little boy?”
    Todd’s jaw moved up and down, flapping like a broken gear. He seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. “Um…I…uh…”
    “Relax, baby.”
    Bridget wiggled against him, pressing her thigh hard against the erection that strained the front of his shorts. The sound that emerged from his throat then was almost like a cry of anguish. Poor little fucker. He’d probably never even kissed a girl before, and now suddenly he found himself in a scenario like something out of a porn flick. Probably didn’t have the first clue what do do.
    Bridget reveled in his discomfort. The ease with which she manipulated him was an ego tonic following the Jordan debacle. And the sadist within her gorged on the man’s exquisite agony, lapping up his misery the way a drunk guzzles cheap hooch.
    “Would you like to fuck me, Todd?”
    Todd shuddered. “Yes. God, yes.”
    “It’s funny you should say that, Todd.” She smiled and wiggled against him one more time. “Because I think I’d rather be shot point-blank in the face than let you so much as lay a finger on me. You’re one ugly little fucker, you know that?”
    Todd flinched. “What?”
    She seized a handful of his hair and gave it a vicious twist.
    Todd shrieked.
    Bridget giggled again and said, “Aw…did that hurt?”
    Todd’s initial shock gave way to anger. His voice boomed with rage as he said, “Get out of my house, bitch!”
    Well, this was just astonishing. What had happened to the flustered loser?
    He pointed at the door and yelled at her again. “Go on, you cock-teasing whore, get out of here!”
    Bridget fumed.
    Her breath emerged in great gasps.
    She waited to hear again the soothing voice of Lamia, the Dark Mother, but this time there was only silence.
    Todd scowled. “The fuck is wrong with you? Get your psycho ass—”
    Bridget screamed.
    Then she raked her long, sharp fingernails down the side of Todd’s face, drawing blood. Todd clapped a hand to his face and staggered away from her. Bridget screamed again and surged toward him, her hands going to his face again. Todd tried to fend her off, spewing curses as he tried to grip her wrists. But Todd’s survival instinct proved to be no match for Bridget’s replenished rage. Her fingers found his eyes, and she drove her nails into the soft orbs, thumb and middle finger hooking into the sockets like the holes of a bowling ball, piercing the tissue and eliciting loud, girlish screams from Todd. She rode his thrashing body to the floor, landed on top of him, pinning his arms beneath her as she continued to drive her fingers through tissue and into his cranial