It was past midnight when she finally got home. The apartment was dark, only the streetlights yellow glow lighting her path from the front door to the kitchen, where she tossed her bag onto the tiny marble island. It had been a day. All she wanted was a glass of wine, a hot bath, and a murder podcast. She hummed to herself, uncorking a bottle of shiraz, not even bothering to turn on the lights. She knew her way around this place like the back of her hand. The familiarity made her not even question the additional creaks of the floorboards behind her. It wasn’t until a muscular arm locked around her waist that she even realized someone else was there.
“Don’t make a sound.” The voice was deep, his stubbled chin raking over her neck as his teeth punctuated the sentence with a viscous bite to her earlobe.
She froze, bottle opener falling to the counter with a clatter.
“Move.” He walked behind her, shoving her into the living room.
Her hips hit the back of the couch. “Please don’t hurt me.”