"Sure," she said, eyeing his gun.

"Why, I think you, Jessie. That's real friendly. Say, stand up for a minute, would you?" She stood hesitantly and his eyes moved up and down her body.

"Really nice. How tall are you, Jessie?"

"Five eleven," she whispered.

"What?"

"Five eleven," she gulped.

"That's pretty tall for a girl. Course, I'm six-four myself. Turn around, would you?"

"Pardon?"

"Turn around. I wanna see what you look like from behind." She turned, flushing red in embarrassment.

"Nice. Nice ass you got, you know that? Course you do. All women know what they got." He smiled, his face looking feral. "Go get me somethin' ta' eat, baby."

"Sure," she gulped. She moved warily around him and scurried to the kitchen, running through it and jerking the door to the patio open. She screamed as he stepped in. He laughed loudly, then grabbed her arm and jerked her around.

His hand slapped down on her buttocks several times, making her cry out in pain as the big palm slammed into her soft round ass cheeks. Then he shoved her hard towards the counter. She staggered and almost fell, but caught the edge of the counter, turning to stare wide-eyed at him.

"I ain't no fool, baby cakes. Now make me some food!"

"Wha… what do you want?" she asked.

"Sandwiches will do fer now. Got some meat?"

"Baloney? Ham?"

"Ham and cheese."

She turned away from him, taking down a loaf of bread, then pulling the cheese and ham from the fridge. She pulled out the utensil drawer, gazing down at the sharp steak knives. She could feel his eyes boring into her back. She pulled out a butter knife and closed the drawer, then began making him a sandwich.

She felt him moving closer to her, moving up behind her. Then she felt his breath on the back of her neck. She tried to ignore him, concentrating on the sandwich. His hands slid around her then, sliding up under her breasts, cupping them and squeezing them up and back against her.