Every square inch of the Ford Explorer was packed with boxes and suitcases. The space between the two front seats was filled with crushed cans of Red Bull and empty bags of beef jerky. Darrin, the smarmy frat boy behind the wheel, was definitely more interested in the sleeping, brunette beauty in the passenger seat than the desert highway in front of him.
It was obvious why. In addition to Amanda being about as near a 10 as one could get, she had just shifted in her seat and her perfect right breast now seemed close to popping out of her too-tight blouse. Was that part of a nipple he was seeing? Why couldn't this happen before the sun went down when there was more light? The boys at the frat house back in Dallas were going to want to see this. He reached back behind the seat and fumbled around for a moment before pulling out a small video camera. He alternated between watching the road and getting the camera rolling. He taped her for a few moments before he saw the sign welcoming them to Arizona. Just beyond that sign was a billboard for the Stateline Motel, exit now. The Red Bull just wasn't doing it and he was looking at seven more hours to L.A. She'd be pissed but fuck it; he wasn't going to risk his life for her. It might be different if she was his girlfriend, but she wasn't, she was someone else's.
He parked in front of the motel office and shut off the Explorer. He took one last stare before shaking her shoulder. "Hey, wake up, we're here."
She slowly opened her eyes and stretched her arms out. She quickly realized her tit was nearly exposed and scrambled to readjust. She looked around and was annoyed at the surroundings. "Here where? This doesn't look like L.A."
"It's not, we're in Arizona," came his casual reply. "We're still seven hours out."
"So why are we stopped then?"
"I'm beat, I can barely keep my eyes open."
"You swore to me you could make it without stopping."
"Yeah," he said with mock concern. "I don't know what I was thinking. Dallas to L.A. in one stretch is a long-ass ride."
She turned away and shook her head in disgust. What an asshole. She definitely would have done this a different way if she'd seen this coming.
"You're welcome to take over any time," he said, like that was a real option.
Amanda had gotten a DUI eight months prior and lost her license for a year. When she decided she wanted to take a break from school and move back home to California she posted a flyer in the Student Union for someone to drive her and her stuff in her SUV, she'd pay for gas and food. The deal was, though, they had to drive straight through since there was no money in the budget for a motel stopover. Darrin was the only one who answered the ad. After asking around, she found a friend of a friend who knew him and deemed him trustworthy enough to do the job.
So now here they were, in the middle of the desert, in a motel parking lot arguing about something that was not supposed to be an issue. She knew she was at his mercy and she hated it. She wanted to smack the smirk off of his face. "I guess the rooms are on your dime," she said, as she opened the door of the Explorer.
He watched her perfect ass walk into the motel office.
Amanda emerged from the motel office restroom just as Darrin was receiving the room keys. She barely noticed him since she was knee-deep in a cell phone conversation with her girlfriend who apparently was not happy about the stopover. "Look, Claire, what do you want me to do? I'll be there tomorrow, it's the best I can do at this point."
Darrin walked up to her and shook the keys in her face. She shot him a look that clearly said, "fuck off" and turned away to finish the conversation. "I have to go, I'll call once we're on the road again."
He made a few obnoxious sexual gestures behind her back then looked over at the redneck desk clerk hoping for a laugh. He got one. She quickly turned around, wondering what the laughter was all about. They immediately stopped. Each received a dirty look before she turned her back to finish her conversation. "Yes, he knows about us and yes, we have separate rooms."
Darrin looked at the desk clerk again, stuck two fingers in front of his lips and wiggled his tongue between them. The desk clerk raised and eyebrow and smiled. "I love you too," she said, and closed her phone.
"So, I've got good news and bad news," he said. "Good news is we've got a room."
"A room? As in one room?"
"That's the bad news, they only had one left."
"You have got to be kidding."
"It's cool, though, 'cause the good news is it has two beds."
He held out her key. She stared at him for a moment with hate in her eyes then snatched the key from his hand. "This is so not cool."
"Oh relax, I wouldn't think of coming between you and Claire."
She was out the door before he finished the sentence.
Darrin looked at the desk clerk and smiled. "I am such a liar."
By the time an hour had gone by, she had calmed down and let him buy her dinner. He had traded in his obnoxious frat boy persona for a gentler, softer side. She wondered why he kept it suppressed. It was quite nice, actually.
They sat on his bed with vegetarian pizza, a couple of bottles of merlot and a lot of laughter. He was actually a funny guy. Who knew? Just as she sucked down the last drop of wine out of her plastic motel cup, he was offering to refill it. She turned it down at first since she felt a little tipsy, but since there was only about a cupful left, it was easy to persuade her to polish it off.
He got off the bed to deposit the bottle in the trash but carelessly flopped back down just as she was about to take another sip. This caused her to spill the wine all over the front of her blouse. He freaked out, quickly grabbed some napkins and without thinking, made a move to dry off her chest. She went from zero to bitch in a flash. She snatched the napkins out of his hand and smacked his arm away. "You mind keeping your fucking hands off?" she screamed.
Darrin was genuinely remorseful of the turn the turn of events. "Shit, I'm sorry. Can I help?"
She saw the horrified look on his face and sensed his sincerity. She instantly calmed down. "No, it's okay, I got it." She did all she could with the napkins so she hopped off the bed and went to her suitcase. She pulled out a bottle that looked like it contained some sort of chemical. It instantly felt light so she held it up for a better look. Sure enough, it was empty. "Shit." She tossed it in the trash. "Gimme the keys, I've got more in the car."
"More what?" he asked.
"Chloroform. It's an awesome stain remover"
"No shit." She took the keys and went outside.
He found that strange. When she came back in with a fresh bottle, his curiosity got the best of him. "Where'd you get that stuff? You can't buy it over the counter can you?"
"No, my dad uses it in his dry clean shops. He gives me all I want."
She disappeared into the bathroom and he began to clean up.
As he gathered up the trash, he happened to glance in the mirror over the dresser. His jaw dropped open and the trash fell out of his arms. While there was a wall separating the bedroom from the bathroom, the mirror was situated in such a way that he could look at it and see right into the bathroom if the door was open – which it was. And there she was, in her bra, at the sink, rubbing the stain away. He sat there frozen, taking it all in.
She held up the blouse to the light. Satisfied with the results, she flipped on the heat lamp and laid the blouse out on the counter. Then, oblivious to the fact that Darrin could see every move, she removed her bra.
He got an instant erection and his heart started to pound rapidly. His breaths now came quick and short. Her tits were absolutely fucking perfect. This was a gift, a gift from God that couldn't possibly get any better. Could it?
As he pondered that thought, she did the unthinkable – she removed her jeans and panties. He stopped breathing altogether. Her pussy was perfect. The hair was trimmed and triangular just the way he liked it. It felt like his dick would rip right through his jeans. Forget Viagra, if they could somehow bottle this...
She reached for a towel, wrapped it around herself and took a step toward the door. Terrified of getting caught, he scrambled to gather up the garbage again. She poked her head around the corner and announced her intention to take a shower.
"Okay," he said, voice cracking. He cleared his throat. "How's the stain?"
"I think it'll be fine."
He collapsed on the bed as she shut the door. He lay there for a moment thinking about what he'd just seen. How could she not have seen him watching her? She couldn't possibly have wanted him to see. Could she? What if she'd never even been with a guy? Maybe she didn't know what she was missing. Maybe he was the guy to help her figure it out. His mind was racing a mile a minute.
The sound of the shower caught his attention. He stared at the closed door in the mirror for a moment. He got up and tiptoed to the door, even though she never would have heard him anyway. What if he walked in right now? What would she do? Should he try it? He took hold of the doorknob. He took a deep breath and slowly turned it. It was locked. Some distant part of his conscience was relieved. He returned to the bed and cleaned up the trash.
An hour later Amanda put her book down and went to check on her blouse. Darrin watched her as she walked past and thought that even in ratty sweat pants and oversized t-shirt she was a vision to behold. She tried not to look at him. She was disgusted by the fact that he so casually lay there on top of his bed in his boxers and watched TV. "Why don't you put some clothes on for Christ sake?"
"What are you bitching about, I usually sleep naked."
"Can you at least tighten up or something? You're flopping out all over."
Not quite, but the pee hole was open enough that he had hair sticking out. He just smirked and did nothing.
"Shit," came the exclamation from the bathroom.
"This heat lamp is a piece of shit. This isn't drying at all. I'm going to leave it on for a while."
"What do I care, I don't pay the electric bill around here."
She crawled back into her bed and lay with her back to him. After a few moments the sound of the TV was starting to get on her last nerve. "How long are you going to keep that on? I thought you were tired."
"Just winding down a little. Is it bothering you?"
He promptly turned it off and shut out the light, leaving only the glow from the heat lamp for light.
"Sorry," he said with sincerity. "About the sleepover, I mean."
"Forget it, I'd rather get there safely."
"Yeah... just stay on your side of the room."
He hesitated for a moment before finally responding, "Yeah... sure."
He laid there for what seemed like an hour and stared at her blanket-covered shape. When he couldn't take it anymore, he slipped his hand into his shorts and started to rub. He was only seconds into it when she coughed. He nearly jumped out of his skin. His heart felt like it would pound it's way out of his chest. He scurried out of bed and into the bathroom. He yanked his shorts down, slapped his hand against the wall for leverage and went to town.
It was over quick and it was quite messy. It was all over the toilet, the wall behind it, part of the tub and God only knows how it got on the mirror. He grabbed a towel and wiped up the mess but in doing so he noticed something. Amanda had left the bottle of chloroform on the sink. He went to pick it up but immediately dropped it into the sink. The bottle was scorching hot from the heat lamp. It made what seemed to him, a deafening sound when it hit the porcelain. It probably would have been worse had it shattered. He cussed out loud and looked at his fingertips that had now turned red. He ran the faucet and cooled both his hand and the bottle. He dried it off with a towel and in the process, had a sinister idea. If this shit worked like it did in the movies, this could be an interesting night.
He saturated another towel with the contents of the bottle and quietly left the bathroom. Miraculously, Amanda didn't wake up when Darrin dropped the bottle and was still fast asleep. He thanked God to himself and stood over her with the towel in hand. His heart was pounding again. He held the towel by the corners and inched it closer to her face. He gently placed it over her face and then quickly backed away, hoping for the best. She didn't stir. He watched her closely for signs of consciousness. There weren't any. Then it hit him: How long does it take for this shit to work? It only takes seconds in the movies. And how long did it last? They never show that shit in the movies. What if there's a delicate chemical balance that has to be adhered to? Why didn't he fucking pay attention in chemistry class? There was no sense in fretting about it now besides, she hadn't moved in a couple of minutes. He slowly removed the towel from her face. He whispered her name. There was no response. He said it louder. Nothing. He nudged her. Still nothing. This was good. The shit actually worked.
He tossed the towel on his bed and flipped on the lights. He pulled back her blankets and rolled her onto her back. Of all the girls he'd fucked, this one was definitely the hottest. Too bad she was going to miss it. He figured at the very least, she'd wake up with a smile on her face. Off came her t-shirt. He discovered she didn't wear a bra to bed. The sight of those perfect tits up close made him instantly hard again. When the sweats came off he was pleased to see she didn't wear panties to bed either. He quickly shed the rest of his clothes.
Without proof, this little adventure would be nothing but an unlikely fish tale to the boys back at the frat house. Out came the video camera. He taped himself sticking his fingers everywhere he could then licking them clean. His cock had never been harder. He couldn't resist the fun of pretending to stick it in her ears and nose. This was going to be a classic video. He was going to be a legend.
After about fifteen minutes he'd had enough of the silly stuff and wanted to get down to business. He set the camera on the dresser, checked the angle and went for it. Over the course of the next thirty-five minutes, fourteen positions were undertaken and to avoid being cruel, he stuck it in her mouth before he stuck it in her ass so she wouldn't wake up with nasty breath. He came all over her face and chest then taped close ups of the results. This had been the most exciting experience of Darrin's young life.
The next morning, Darrin woke up later than he wanted to. He couldn't believe it was almost noon. He'd slept better than he had since high school. He looked over at Amanda and was pleased with himself for the job he'd done cleaning up the mess and getting her clothes back on. She must have enjoyed it too because she was still asleep as well.
He figured she would be up by the time he got out of the shower. She wasn't. It was time to wake her up. Problem was, she wasn't waking up. He yelled and shook her, to no avail. It didn't take long to realize something was wrong. He started to panic. What the fuck? This shit doesn't happen in the movies. They always wake up. He listened to her chest and checked for a pulse. He heard and felt nothing. She had seemed softer and warmer before but now she was cool and kind of hard. No, this couldn't be. Was she dead? People don't die from this shit. Do they? Why the fuck hadn't he paid attention in class? Panic set in and his mind raced. It finally hit home -- she was dead and he might very well be fucked. He went berserk, yelling, screaming and throwing things. He didn't notice that in his rage the video camera had fallen behind the dresser.
When his fit was over and he had calmed down he paced the room and tried to figure out what to do. A knock at the door made him jump out of his skin. Darrin froze and said nothing. Another knock was followed by the voice of the manager. "Everything okay in there?"
With Darrin's heart in his throat, he managed a weak and squeaky "Yes."
The manager was not convinced. "Can you open the door, please?"
Darrin was paralyzed with fear. "We're not dressed."
"The room next door said it sounded like a fight going on in there."
"No, nothing going on in here. We're cool. Must've been someone else."
"Sir, if you don't open the door, I'm going to have no choice but to call the sheriff.
Darrin definitely didn't need that kind of action so he gave in and cracked the door open. The manager, a pushy, fat little fuck, surprised Darrin and pushed the door open further than Darrin would have wanted. "Nothing going on, huh? This room is trashed!"
Darrin had to think fast. He stepped in front of the manager's view and pushed him back out the door. "You mind keeping it down? My girlfriend's sleeping."
"Okay, first of all, it's time she got up because checkout time was noon and it's way past that now."
"Look, I'll pay the extra night, okay? Now if there's nothing else..." Darrin attempted to shut the door but the manager blocked it with his foot.
"You expect me to believe she slept through all that racket?"
Darrin was getting pissed. "Look, man, it was last night, we got a little crazy, that's all. I'll clean the fucking room and pay the extra fucking night, okay? Now fuck off!" Darrin stomped on the manager's foot, slammed the door and locked it. "Pushy motherfucker."
Darrin took a deep breath then went into scramble mode. He did a whirlwind job of packing. He dumped the chloroform in the sink, peeled the label off and flushed it. He gathered up the towels. At least two of them were cum-stained, two more had chloroform on them, two had been used for hand towels, two for the shower and since he definitely didn't want to smell-check any of them, he packed them all into a pillowcase then snuck outside with them and the bottle. He smashed the bottle in the dumpster of the pizza place next door and tossed the bag of towels in on top of it. He ran back in to take a quick look around and decided he was ready to go. He grabbed his duffel bag and headed for the door. He took one last look at Amanda as he opened the door. "Sorry about this, wish I could take you with me but, well, you know." He turned to walk out and bumped right into two sheriff's deputies.
"Know, what?" the big one asked.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" asked the other.
The bag dropped out of Darrin's hand, as he stood there stunned.
Darrin tapped his fingers anxiously on the interrogation room table. According to the clock on the wall he'd been there four hours. He wasn't sure if the cops were buying his story that Amanda just died in her sleep and it made him really nervous. He had no idea whether or not the chloroform could be detected in her system. He wished he hadn't cheated his way through that Goddamned chemistry class. He couldn't remember a thing about the lecture on chloroform other than there had been one.
The sheriff and another man entered the room, both with disturbed looks on their faces. Here it was, hopefully the moment of truth, except that they just stared at him and said nothing for what seemed like an eternity. He couldn't take it he had to say something. "So? What's the deal?"
"This is Dr. Stein, the coroner, I'll let him explain," said the Sheriff.
"How much do you know about chloroform, Son?" said the Doctor.
Darrin's heart dropped down into his colon. He'd gotten rid of it. Fuck, it must have been detectible in her system. He tried to remain calm. "Chloroform? What does that have to do with anything? Is that what killed her, because we didn't have any..."