She wouldn't let him control her sexually either. He noticed the change and it only made him hotter. He loved her for it, for making him sweat and suffer and beg, because he knew that one day he would dominate her totally and on that day, his revenge would be sweet indeed. So, for the meantime, he put up with with her bad temper and her haughty ways and he indulged her whims, letting her decide when and how they would have sex.

One sizzling July night, they both stayed late at the office and enjoyed a heated fuck in the icy cool of his air-conditioned office. Afterwards, he gave her money for the taxi back to her apartment, but for some odd reason, she decided to walk.

Once outside, she was glad of her decision. The night was smoldering with a strange burning sensuality that only New York on a summer night can have. The stars were out and Valerie walked unhurriedly along the deserted streets, listening to the click! click! of her high-heels on the empty pavement.

Traffic was light and she didn't see very many cars out that night, so when one stopped, she noticed it right away. There was a very tall, lean, blond man in the car, with wispy hair and steely eyes that glinted even in the distance.

He waited for her to reach the car and when she was parallel to it on the sidewalk, he stuck his head out. There was a cowboy hat on it. He said nothing, but she could feel that he was undressing her with his eyes. Oddly enough, she felt no fear, only curiosity.

She looked at him, too, her eyes as blank as water, but said nothing. Then she continued on her way. After she had walked for another three or four, blocks, the car started again, slowly driving past her by a few blocks and then waiting.