90 minutes from reveal of the theme word to posting of story online.  As with all my flash writings, I consider them rough, first drafts and not polished stories suitable (yet) for submission.

Ironically, my own wedding anniversary was the day before, January 9th.  Happy 17th anniversary, Mr. G! and thanks for the marvelous dinner at the top of the Seattle Space Needle.

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Chelsea dressed with care–a slinky black dress cut to indecent depths in back, mile high pumps and jangly jewelry. She piled her hair on top of her head, leaving a few delicate tendrils to graze her neck, to suggest starting points of seduction. There would be a seduction too. She spritzed a light misting of her favorite perfume behind her ears, in her cleavage, behind her knees and in the small of her back. Her pulse quickened slightly, releasing and co-mingling the scent with her own essence, creating a fragrance uniquely her. Admiring her reflection in the mirror before settling down to do her makeup, she smiled.

“This is it,” she whispered. “I can’t believe it’s been a year.”

Tonight was a special night for her and her special man. She gazed at her reflection taking in the tiny frown lines around her mouth, the slight droop of her eyes. Time had dulled the ache but hadn’t erased it entirely. In contrast, her love burned as strongly as it had from the moment it had seized her in its greedy grasp. She could do this.

The doorbell rang and she rose to answer it, to set in motion her plans, so thoughtfully, lovingly laid out.

“You look so…beautiful,” he said as she invited him inside.

She demurred to his praise then gave him a quick kiss followed by a few murmured words in his ear. His eyes flew open and he grinned. The game was afoot.

They dined and danced and she allowed herself to succumb to his seduction. She urged him to pay the check and whisk her home. With a crooked grin, she promised him the world and more. He left a big tip and they left.

“Would you like some wine,” she asked, holding a bottle of red and a bottle of white.

“Red,” he said, approaching her in predator mode.

He downed it and then refilled his glass as she barely sipped hers.

“How is it?” she asked with a coy tilt of her head.

He’d already had several drinks at dinner. She knew he wasn’t worried about driving. If he wasn’t worried neither was she, but she was no fool so she had taken his keys early in the evening and driven them back to her place.

“Seductive…sinful…” he began, running a finger down her bare arm.

The path he grazed burned hot and she shuddered.

“But I’m wondering what something else tastes like,” he finished as he pulled her into his embrace and touched his lips to hers. He traced the tip of his tongue along the edges of her lips.

He tasted exactly as she thought he would, of wine and whiskey. His eyes blurred slightly as he pulled back to look down into hers. She felt his fingers inching their way into the hollow of her back, beneath the edge of her dress. He wanted her. It was time.

Leading him by the hand she tugged him behind her into her bedroom. He did not resist, practically stumbled into her in his haste.

“I’ll be back,” she said as she nodded her head toward her bathroom. “Let me get ready.”

He leered at her then took a seat at the edge of her bed. She paused in the doorway until she saw him begin to remove his shoes, then slipped into her bathroom.

Her heart pounded in her ears, flushing her cheeks, her neck and chest. Taking her time, she removed her earrings, bracelet and necklace. He’d already loosened her hair and she marveled at how she’d not even noticed until now.

The dress fell in a puddle to the floor. No need for that anymore. It had served its purpose well but no sense ruining it. She discarded the shoes too. They had cost $750. She lovingly removed them and placed them in her vanity for safekeeping with the dress. Swapping her foreplay tools for those of a more heady use, she emerged to execute the final chapter of their liaison.

He was in her bed, cheeky bastard, propped up against her pillows. When he saw her, he whistled and said, “Chelsea…wow…come here.”

She moved closer and cocked her head to the side. Should she dive in now or tease him a bit longer? No, no more waiting. This was the moment she’d been planning for so long.

“You look comfortable,” she said, smiling at him.

He threw back the covers and patted the bed next to him. She could see the entire left side of his nude body. He wasn’t bad looking. What a waste, she thought, as she withdrew her weapon and pulled the trigger.

Three shots was all it took–one to the head for Shawn, one to the chest for Rachel and one to the stomach for Kayla–one shot for each life he’d taken. He probably died from the first shot if he was lucky. In hindsight, she wished she’d worked her way up instead of down. Her husband hadn’t been so lucky. He’d lingered in a coma for three days before she finally signed the papers to remove him from life support. Her little girls had died on impact and hadn’t suffered, at least she hoped they hadn’t.

“One year to the day, my darlings,” she said as she lowered her gun.