"My God, you're lovely," he rasped, his fat greasy face only an inch or so from her own. "We… we do understand each other, don't we?"

Karen swallowed tightly. His hand resting on her buttocks had sent a cold child fluttering through her. She had to steel herself to keep from bolting. She

had come this far. Success… that illusive goddess… she remembered.

"Well…? We do, don't we?" he prodded nervously. He licked at his lips and his little colorless eyes were bugging at her. Thank God, she couldn't see him clearly. "I-I'm here, aren't I?" she heard herself say.

Abruptly, he turned her to face him and drew her tight against him, sloshing her drink to splatter on both of them as he smothered her soft lips with his wet, open mouth. He clutched at her buttocks with both small hands, grinding his pelvis into her until she could feel the rising bulge of him and his tongue jabbed between her lips against her clenched white teeth.

He drew back his head, simpering lustfully at her as she tried to measure her own physical reactions to his aggressive touch. So far, so good, she thought mechanically. The liquor was doing its job well… if only she didn't have to look at him…

"You won't be sorry, darling," he hissed at her. "I promise you that. You be nice to me and we'll make your fame and fortune with that book… I… swear it…

His fat little hands smoothed up over her hips and waist to her breasts where they paused to squeeze and massage hungrily. Karen was amazed at her lack of feeling, but she couldn't bring herself to touch him in response. Suddenly, he let go of her.

"Let's go into the bedroom," he gasped, grasping her hand and leading the way.

A shudder passed over her then, the first of a series that seemed to rack her whole being at the thought of willingly entering his bedroom with him and for the sole purpose of giving her body to him…