I Don’t Want To Be Here

I have to admit to a kind of sick fascination with him. He frightens me, yet I'm unbearably curious about him. What does he want from me? Why did he choose me to be his victim?

A minute later, he walks into the room. I'm sitting at the table, looking out the window. Before I even see him, I feel his presence. The atmosphere turns electric, heavy with expectation.

I turn my head, watching him approach. This time, he's wearing a soft-looking grey polo shirt and a pair of white khaki pants. We could be having dinner at a country club.

My heart is beating rapidly in my chest, and I can feel the blood rushing through my veins. I'm suddenly much more aware of my body.. 

He comes up to me and bends down, giving me a brief kiss on the mouth. "Hello, wife," he says when he straightens, his beautiful lips curved in a darkly sensual smile. He's so breathtaking that I'm unable to think for a moment, my mind clouded by his nearness.