Hijacked 
by DanK 
Lesbian takes his girlfriend--with force.


A/N: Want to see your fantasy on paper? E-mail me at legion.live@me.com for
commissions. Use the subject VALKYRIE.

Late May lit Laguna Beach with brilliant sunlight that set white sand and
seafoam gleaming. Tyson Rayman eased the 350Z to rest in the parking space
near the stairs at the end of the boardwalk, turned to flash a smile at his
Liz in the seat beside him. "What did I tell you, baby? Rock star parking."

She smiled back; her eyes, the same bright aquamarine as her sleeveless top,
wrinkled at the corners. A good twenty years Ty's senior, her age was usually
concealed by light makeup, not to mention daily workouts. But this afternoon,
she hadn't bothered with makeup, her long honey-brown hair left loose on her
shoulders. Something had been bothering her lately, and if Ty had caught on to
it, he might have sat down with her and pried it loose so they could work it
over.

But that was the problem -- he hadn't caught on. He'd been too absorbed in his
budding career as an actor, rushing from meeting to indie film set to meeting
to business lunch to... and in the maelstrom of his mad dash to build a more
prosperous future for them, he'd forgotten about them. Still... she smiled.
She wanted it to work, because even though he was often gone, she knew that he
was doing it because he wanted it to work, too. That didn't change the fact
that she spent nights without him with a growing loneliness that had formed a
wedge between them.

But that wasn't for today. Today he was here, and she was here, and there was
the beach and spring sunlight and fun.

"Grab the blankets, baby." he suggested as he swung his legs out of the car on
his side and popped the trunk. "I'll get the cooler." They made their way down
to the beach, laughing as a frighteningly rotund gent sauntered past, his
great belly threatening his swim trunks as a tiny dog which was clearly not
his chased him, snarling and snapping, then hurriedly covered with feigned
coughing.

Ty still, after six months, couldn't help but stare at the sight of his
girlfriend in a bikini. Even in her mid forties, she was a paragon of beauty.
Long, sleek but toned legs, a deliciously shapely ass, full hips, a slim
waist, a taut, flat stomach with just a trace of abdominal muscles, perfect
and perky handful breasts, and slim but well turned arms... she looked better
at her age than most of the women here only half that. She showed him a
brilliant smile as she laid out the blankets, and he set down the blinding
white Igloo cooler, popping open the lid and taking a bottle of tanning oil in
one hand while pulling free a wine cooler with the other with a conspiratorial
wink. "This is my favorite part." he grinned, cracking open the wine cooler
and handing it to her as she lay on her stomach on the blanket, pulling her
long hair clear of her back.

"What, the booze?" she joked.

He snorted. "This stuff hardly qualifies as booze..." He opened the bottle of
tanning oil, depositing a generous amount into his right hand and setting the
bottle down to coat both palms and fingers with it. "No," he places both palms
flat on her back, grinning as the cold oil made her jump, "This is my favorite
part." He began to massage the oil into her skin with gentle pressure, long
smooth strokes of palms and fingers up her back, over her shoulders and down
her sides. He looked up at something. "Holy crap, would you look at that."

"Hmm?" Liz turned her head slightly, and drew in a breath of what could have
been shock or possibly just amazement.

Strolling down the beach, looking as if she might have been lost or just lost
in thought, was one of the most athletic looking women Ty had seen in quite a
long time, at least outside the pungent smelling and yet somehow still
laboratory-like setting of his gym. She wasn't terribly tall, but neither were
her limbs freakishly bulky like those of a bodybuilder. Ty and Liz watched as
her arms swung lazily at her sides, biceps and shoulders rippling and
bunching. Her quads likewise flexed into impressive size and definition with
each step. She didn't appear to have noticed their curious gazes as she moved.
She was too far away to make out much else about her yet, but her unhurried
stroll would bring her right past them. As she drew closer, Ty could see that
she was pretty, if not what most men would call beautiful, with stylishly
short black hair, wide set brown eyes and full lips.

"Damn," Liz giggled. "Wish I was built like that."

"Liz, seriously?" Ty caught the faintly aghast tone in his own voice, and
immediately wish it had sounded different.

She turned to look over her shoulder up at him, faint annoyance in her eyes.
"Yes, seriously. Why? You don't think she's good looking?"

Ty chuckled. "Oh, no. You're not getting me into that trap. If I say no, I'm
closed-minded. If I say yes, you get jealous. Nuh uh."

Her lips tugged upward at the corners despite her best efforts to give him a
disapproving scowl. "Answer the question, Tyson." She cocked an eyebrow at
him, waiting. "So you're hiding something. Maybe you want her?"

"Nope." he answered immediately. "And anyway, even if I did -- which I don't
-- like the man says, you can't always get what you want."

"Sometimes you can't even keep what you got." she returned.

"Ahem." his turn for an upraised brow. "Let me remind the court that the
defendant said, 'Which I don't.' "

"So noted." she giggled.

"Now... I think," he said slowly, "that you would be smokin' hot if you were
built like that. Ha! How do you like that answer!"

She turned her eyes back to the woman sauntering toward them. "So... you don't
think I'm smokin' hot now. I see." She stared off at the water.

"Oh, for the love of-- " Her playful laughter cut him off.

"Don't worry." she reassured him. "I'm just playing with you, you're fine."
She took a drink of the wine cooler, then lay her head back on the blanket in
a silent signal for him to return to the task of oiling her up.

He resumed his task, smiling. "So are you, baby." He looked up at the warm
spring sky, out at the rolling blue ocean, then down at his girl, and decided
that of all the gorgeous sights out here, there would never be any doubt which
was his eyes' favorite.

"Excuse me."

They looked up to see that the athletic girl who had been approaching had come
to a stop before their blankets. "Yes?" Liz shaded her eyes. Now that the
woman was facing them, they could see she had a rolled up blanket of her own
under one powerful arm.

"Do you mind if I join you? I came out here to get away from... things. But,
um... well, I guess I'm just more in the mood for company than I thought." her
eyes rested on Liz, a smile working its way onto her lips. She shifted the red
and black blanket from under her right arm to her left, held out her hand to
Liz.

"Yeah, why not?" Ty answered. Liz shot him a look over her shoulder as he took
the woman's hand and shook it -- and found himself hiding a faint wince. Damn,
this chick had one hell of a grip!

Liz turned her eyes back to the newcomer, and suddenly Ty got the distinct
feeling he'd given the wrong answer -- Liz's vibe had changed again, only it
didn't seem quite as playful this time. "Sure. I'm Liz, this is my boyfriend
Ty."

"Rachel." the woman shook Liz's hand in turn, apparently more than a little
more gently. Then she flashed a brilliant smile that turned her from just
pretty to indeed beautiful, stepped over to the other side of Liz, her hips,
thighs and calves flexing as she hunkered down to unroll her blanket and place
it next to Liz's.

Something about the flirtatious smile the newcomer showed his girl instantly
unsettled Ty; before he could confront the matter, however, a distinctive
chirp rose from the pocket of his cargo shorts and Liz shot him an annoyed
look. "I thought we were leaving our phones in the car." she sighed. "No
business? Remember? 'You and me time'?"

"I'm sorry, baby." He checked the display, then sighed. "It's Bobby. I swear,
baby, this will only take a minute." He hit Talk and lifted the phone to his
ear. "Bobby! What have you got for me?"

"Don't worry, sweetie." the dark haired muscle girl reached out and ran a hand
over Liz's shoulder. "I'll keep you company."

His producer's words were faint on the other end of the line, and just now he
didn't want to stand here feeling his unease grow watching this woman get
touchy-feelie with his girl. Best to just get whatever news his producer had
for him and get it over with. He cupped his other hand over the phone's mic
and mouthed. "Be right back." Liz just stared off at the ocean. He stared a
moment, then turned his attention back to the phone, putting some distance
between the weak audio connection and the conversation of the two women.

Liz watched him amble off down the beach a way, then sighed.

"Does he do that a lot?" Rachel asked, her fingers resting now on Liz's
shoulder. Resting on her stomach next to Liz, she leaned up on one elbow to
look into her eyes. Liz's rueful smile said more than her words:

"It's his job. He's an actor. I guess he's on the verge of his big break,
but..."

"But you're lonely." The woman's frankness took Liz aback for a moment.

Finally, though, she nodded. "Yeah." She looked away. "More often than I'm
not, really. But he's doing it for us. He's..."

"Shh." Rachel reached out and boldly put a finger to Liz's lips, her eyes
sparkling. "Wait here. I promise I'll be right back."

Rachel smiled to Liz over her shoulder; her smile widened as she continued on
down the beach. She had wanted the girl as soon as she'd spied her from down
the beach. True, there were plenty of other women she could play with, and it
was also true that they ranged from attractive to goddesses in human flesh,
but there was something about this one...

Maybe it was as simple as the fact that she was taken, and by a man no less.
There was always the illicit thrill of taking something beautiful away from
another -- and so much the better when it was a man. Something about the idea
of that -- and about the idea of how she was going to go about it -- marbled
the skin around Rachel's nipples, gave her a warm, tingling ache at the
juncture of her thighs.

She could see him pacing the beach a small distance away, then turn without
thinking and head for the stairs leading back up to the boardwalk. "Good
boy..." she breathed, thinking aloud. "Go back upstairs now, we don't want the
pretty girl to see this..." He did indeed start up the stairs, and she
couldn't suppress a giggle. It was pathetic, she thought to herself, how
predictable men were.

She followed him, keeping just enough distance to ensure that he wouldn't look
back over his shoulder, feeling her presence. He didn't. He walked lazily as
she listened to his conversation.

"So what did I interrupt?" Robert Rubenstein, as Ty's long-time producer and
quasi- manager, had been the one whose fault it was that he'd gotten together
with Liz in the first place, having introduced them at a bar purely on
mischievous impulse, to show Ty how easily it was to pick up gorgeous women if
you had the right job title.

"Rachel and I were spending some quality time. Well... trying to. Not--" he
amended quickly, "that I'm ungrateful. For news like that, bet your ass I'm
grateful. It's just... it's wearing her down, I think. The job. You know, me
being gone all the time, and then when we're together I'm more or less still
not... you know what I mean."

"Let me give you a little piece of advice about women, Ty." Bobby said.

Ty chuckled. "Bobby, you're in the middle of getting a divorce. I bet you had
Chinese takeout for dinner last night."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. "Ouch. Okay, go spend time
with your girl. I got the business end covered from over here. Just me and my
empty boxes of takeout. Watch out for those beach babes."

Ty turned away from the Z as he closed the phone. "Yeah. Beach babes." He cast
an eye down to the beach where he could just make out the edge of Liz's
blanket, her bare skin warm and inviting. Well, at least he had good news to
share with her; then again, he reflected, it was good news for the bank
account. Not necessarily for the amount of time they'd spend together. A new
job, more lucrative, but... a hectic shooting schedule. He'd tried to get her
to come and spend his days on set with him, but she only complained that it
bored her senseless. he could understand that, he supposed. He turned away
from the beach and headed toward --Rachel's fist came out of nowhere at all,
catching him square in the nose and knocking his head back, making his eyes
water. He was a big guy, though, at 6'2", and while the blow from the 5'7"
woman staggered him, it didn't put him down. The second one did, however,
rattling his teeth as it connected with his jaw. His ass hit the sand-powdered
pavement and he let out a grunt. He could just make out the woman's taut
bikini-clad form as he looked up in surprise and pain. He opened his mouth to
ask what the holy hell was going on. "Hope you had a good time with Liz." she
smiled smugly down at him. "She's mine now, pretty boy."

He had a pithy reply to this on his lips, but didn't get the words out. Liz's
left fist rocked his head back again with a vicious jab that caught him just
under his right eye, and a lightning fast right followed into his gut as the
short-haired brunette dropped to one knee, blasting the wind out of him so
hard he began to gag. She didn't let up, instead rocketing another jab into
his jaw, then a second, then a third, rapid-fire. He collapsed to his back,
unconscious and barely breathing, blood streaming from his mouth and nose as
his eye began to swell.

Wasting no time, Liz looked over her shoulder to see if anyone had witnessed
the assault -- luckily for her, the parking lot was empty, all of the beach's
visitors down on the sand. Her hands fairly flew through Ty's pockets, finding
what she was looking for in the right thigh pocket of his cargo shorts. She
pulled his key-ring free, then opened the driver's side door of the 350 Z,
stuffing his limp body inside, then shoving him haphazardly over to the
passenger side seat and climbing in after him. Turning the ignition, she kept
her head low, only barely high enough above the dash to back the car out of
the parking space, then slowly cruise about five hundred feet down the long
parking lot. Liz heard the car start up, watching in disbelief which turned to
heartbreak and finally to fury as Ty's car backed out, then cruised away. "You
son of a bitch!" she breathed. She was still sitting with her head in her
hands, elbows resting on her knees, when Rachel sauntered back. The other
woman didn't say anything, just sat beside her. After awhile, Liz felt an arm
circle her, then pull her close.

He came to in the passenger seat of his car, his entire face aching and the
front of his t-shirt thickly crusted with dried blood. It was all over the
seats as well. He groaned as he sat up, then looked for his car keys. They
were gone. So was his phone. Panicking, he sat up further still despite the
swimming and pounding in his head -- at least his wallet was still in his
pocket.

He spent the following week at home. Liz hadn't shown up -- he'd called her
repeatedly, left message after message. He had no idea what had happened after
the humiliating, one-sided beating the muscle girl at the beach had dished
out. He knew he'd come to a good quarter mile at least from where he'd
originally parked. Walking back down to the boardwalk where he'd left Liz,
he'd descended the stairs, shielding his eyes against the setting sun and
cursing under his breath, to find that she was gone. That meant the
muscle-girl had in all likelihood made good on her threat to steal Liz, or at
least gotten part of the way to that goal. He had no idea what to do. He'd
finally gotten a ride to the dealership where he'd bought the Z and gotten a
new set of keys, but that had been a few days ago and in that three days,
visits to Liz's apartment had come to nothing. Knocking on the door for forty
five minutes had given him only sore knuckles and a breaking heart.

But after a few weeks, things slowly began to return to normal. It began with
a knock on his door late one Saturday night. He opened it to find Liz standing
there with two big bags of Chinese takeout. Something about that struck Ty as
ominous but he couldn't put his finger on exactly what. "Can I come in?" she
asked, sounding somewhat more meek than he remembered.

"Yeah." he couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. He stepped back and closed
the door behind her. She didn't say anything as she unloaded the boxes of
schezuan chicken, steamed vegetables and fried rice from the bags. She didn't
say anything as she handed him a pair of chopsticks. She didn't say anything
as they ate somewhat uncomfortably.

Finally, when the only thing left was fortune cookies and empty paper-board
boxes, she said, "Ty, I'm sorry."

He looked up. "Huh?"

"About the past few weeks. The police called me about your car keys. They said
it looked like you got carjacked. Why didn't you tell me that on the phone?"
She looked at him with a wounded and concerned expression.

"I..." he didn't know what to say to that. The cops hadn't been in touch with
him about anything, and he hadn't bothered calling them. What was he going to
tell the cops, that some chick beat the crap out of him? Him, a fairly
muscular, big guy, getting the crap knocked out of him by a girl. Okay, so she
was more than fairly muscular herself, but the cops didn't care about things
like that. He'd known a few guys whose girlfriends had roughed them up, and
the law never sided with anybody but the girl. "I'd rather not talk about it."

She nodded, seeming to understand. She offered him a fortune cookie, then took
one for herself. This was their favorite part of eating Chinese, in a
restaurant or at home, no matter how good the takeout was. He finally allowed
himself a smile, and so did she, as he broke his open easily and expertly,
pulling the slim ribbon of white paper free.

That's when the door opened and Rachel Barnes strode in as if she owned the
place. Ty looked up, stunned, a shiver of fear and then a flush of anger
racing up his spine and into his gut. "What the hell?!"

She looked down at Liz, then over at Ty. "Hi, sweetie." she said, and he
couldn't tell if she was directing it at him or at his girl. "What'cha doing
with this creep? I thought we talked about this."

Ty was on his feet instantly. "Get out!"

Rachel shook her head. "Nope." She wore short, short gray track shorts and a
black tank top, showing off her long, hard sculpted arms and legs, a six pack
of chiseled abdominal muscles and a pair of firm C cup breasts thrust proudly
forward on a foundation of well developed pecs. "I'm here for my girlfriend."

Ty blinked, stunned. He looked down at Liz. Looked back up at Rachel. "Your
what?!"

"My girlfriend." Rachel repeated, looking amused. "I told you I would take her
from you."

"I thought you told me you were joking about that..." Liz interjected, looking
as stunned as Ty felt.

Rachel shook her head. "No, sweetie, I wasn't. Why do you think I told you to
come over here and tell the little boy you two are through?" She stepped
around the couch to stand over Liz, looking down at her with a somewhat stern
expression.

"Get out," Ty growled, furious, "of my house." His fists balled up at his
sides, he stared daggers at the woman. He knew she was faster than he was --
he didn't think, even with such muscularity on display, that she was stronger.
She'd taken him by surprise, that was all, used surprise and speed to get the
better of him last time. Not this time. And not in his --

"This isn't your house." she replied breezily without taking her eyes off Liz.
"It's your apartment. Unless, of course," she turned and showed him a cold
smile, "unless I decide to take that away from you, too."

Ty lost it, kicking the coffee table aside, sending empty cardboard
containers, television remote and a pair of unlit candles flying. "Get out,
you filthy, stinking --"

He didn't get far enough fast enough. Already turning to face him, Rachel
stepped forward rather than back and slammed a fist into his own hard abs,
sending a jolt through his entire body and stopping him dead in his tracks. He
stepped back, drawing his own arm back and slicing it through the air at her
cheek. He had never been so enraged in his entire life, literally seeing red.
She didn't have room to step back, having just stepped over the overturned
coffee table.

Instead, she executed a vertical leap upward, catching his blow on her hard
left pec, and slammed her leg forward, the ball of her left foot smashing into
his collar-bone and sending him flying across the room to slam into the wall.

"Stop it!" Liz shouted, but neither of them paid her the slightest bit of
attention.

Before Ty could regain his feet, Rachel had leapt across the distance
separating them. Ty rolled off the wall milliseconds ahead of her next punch
-- mostly by lucky accident -- as her fist splintered the wood. She yelped in
surprise and pain, and he seized the momentary lapse in her focus to drive off
the wall with his legs, roaring, and tackle her to the hardwood floor.

"Stop it!" Liz screamed again. She sat stone-still and still on the couch, her
eyes as wide as saucers, her unbroken fortune cookie still absurdly poised in
her fingers, as if she had frozen into stone as soon as Rachel had stepped
through the front door. The cookie finally dropped from her nerveless fingers
to shatter on the floor between her feet.

Ty straddled Rachel, who bucked under him, trying to roll him off. He froze
for a moment -- he had never in his life even contemplated hitting a woman,
but that moratorium was about to be broken. He cocked his elbow up, turning
his body to throw as much weight and leverage as he could into the punch; if
he had to do it, he didn't want to have to do it more than once.

At the last possible instant, Rachel bent her neck away, turning her head, and
Ty's fist smashed with full force into the hardwood floor with a sickeningly
audible crunch. "Aaaaaaaaaaaagghhhhh!!!" He screamed, clutching his fist in
his other hand, feeling as if he'd just broken at least two of his own
knuckles, which in all likelihood he probably had.

That's when Rachel bucked again, but not trying to force his weight off her
upper body; instead, she reached up with her long, powerful, bare legs,
snaking her calves around his neck and crossing her ankles under his chin,
then straightened her entire body with a violent snapping motion, slamming his
weight off her chest and the back of his head into the floor. He was groggy
for a moment, nearly knocked out by the sudden impact to the back of his head,
but when she tucked his calves under her arms, recrossed her ankles and tensed
the deadly balls of calf muscle on either side of his neck, grinding his head
into the floor while cutting off his oxygen and the flow of blood to his
brain, he began to thrash wildly but futilely in her grip.

She turned to smile over her shoulder at Liz, whose expression had rapidly
changed from shell-shock and concern to something strange, a mixture of
concern and arousal. "Come here, sweetie, let me show you what a man is useful
for." Liz got up on unsteadily legs and slowly walked over to where Rachel
held her boyfriend helplessly trapped and choking in her grip.

She looked up at Liz's expression; Liz watched her boyfriend held immobilized
and it was as though a lightbulb had gone on behind her eyes. Rachel giggled.
"Well, you wanted to know how to keep him home, didn't you?"

"But," Liz sounded confused. "Why would you want me to? I thought you --"

"Hate men?" Rachel giggled again. "Oh, hell no, sweetie! They can be --" she
tightened her hold on Ty's throat brutally, gritting her teeth faintly, until
his struggles subsided into unconsciousness. "They make fun little toys if you
train them right. Probably not actors, though. Either he's gone or the time or
he's broke, so this one's just useless. We'll get a younger one, a landscaper
or a gardener. That way he works where we play. But this one... well, he's not
going to be good for much after this. Might as well get some enjoyment out of
him while we're here, though."

She released her hold on the still-unconscious man, then rose to her feet,
taking Liz in her arms, her lips seeking out Liz's. She found Liz's lower lip
trembling and nipped it lightly. "Shhh... come here, baby..."

When Ty came to, his vision was blurry, his head pounding and spinning again.
He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, trying to move. He couldn't.
He looked down to see that he was wrapped in something -- one of his sheets,
dark blue linen, was wrapped over and around his chest and arms several times.
But there was something hard behind his back. The room still spun around him
when he turned his head, and he had to fight his gut with everything he had to
keep from vomiting up a belly full of takeout. He turned his head slowly
despite the disorientation and nausea, looking at his wrist. It was bound to
the arm of one of his wooden patio chairs with a length of black nylon
stocking. He didn't bother turning his head back in the other direction -- he
didn't need to look to know that the other hand was bound with the other
stocking. He could feel air moving freely over his cock, his thighs, his
knees. He didn't know what they'd bound his ankles to the chair with, but his
cheeks flushed hot with humiliation at the realization that it had obviously
involved stripping his pants off him, leaving them bunched around his calves.

"Mmmm, look, sweetie -- he's awake." He could hear the voice, but couldn't
immediately place it. He looked up, the room seeming to tilt forward. His jaw
and neck were washed through with a darkly raging ache as the tendons and
joints Rachel had abused in her grip found renewed blood flow. He could feel
cold on his cheeks and realized with a sense of wonder that it was because he
was crying.

"Ohh, my God..." Liz breahted, and Ty's heart sank at her next words. "I don't
know why, but that's so hot..." Ty's vision cleared, and instantly, he wished
it hadn't. They were both nude, both gorgeous. Liz's long golden-brown hair
was loose on her shoulders, her back propped up against the head-board of his
bed cushioned by pillows. Rachel had straddled Liz's thighs, her bare, rounded
ass wiggling slightly back and forth as she looked over her shoulder, smiling
and looking him in the eye with an expression of smug triumph on her face. He
wanted to ball of his fists and smash that smile off the front of her head,
but there was nothing he could do about it. The heartache only deepened,
clenching around the core of his being in a burning fist of shame and rage.

"Ohh, that's good, sweetie." Rachel breathed to Liz. "I want you to just lie
back... and watch his face... and enjoy..." So saying, she leaned up and
forward, kissing Liz hungrily for what seemed like minutes. When she finally
broke the kiss, her hand trailing down Liz's chest to grasp her already hard
nipple between thumb and forefinger, squeezing to bring a shuddering gasp of
pleasure from the other woman, she looked over her shoulder again. "I'm going
to fuck her with my tongue, Ty. Right in front of you. You like that?"

There was nothing at all Ty liked less. He struggled against the tight
confines of the sheet. "Get out! Get out, get out!"

"I've been 'out' for years now, pretty boy." she giggled, and now Liz giggled
with her. Then she was moving again down Liz's body, her tongue and lips
leaving a trail of licks and kisses down the other woman's belly, her
fingertips tracing delicate patterns over Liz's thighs that had her voicing
guttural, breathless moans of pleasure even before Rachel reached her
womanhood.

Ty closed his eyes; this was a mistake. His brain, accustomed to hearing Liz
make those sounds only when he was pleasuring her, sent the customary signals
to his manhood, which began to rise very much against his conscious will.

"Ohhh, my..." he heard Rachel say, and opened his eyes, his cheeks deep red.
She continued, "I don't think I've ever seen one that small. I think even
'Little Bob' beats that by a couple inches." This was a flat-out lie and Ty
knew it; nevertheless, it stung for some reason he couldn't even fathom, and
it only hurt worse when Liz laughed along with Rachel.

There was nothing to be done about it. That was the worst part, or so Ty
thought. But then Rachel's lips and tongue moved lower, and Liz's moans
increased in volume and urgency. "Oh, yes..." she breathed. "Fuck me... oh,
God... fuck me..."

Ty's world rapidly disintegrated in the sighs... the moans... the screams of
pure ecstasy that came from his girl... he held onto that... his girl... but
she wasn't his girl anymore. He was losing her. Had lost her. He opened his
eyes in time to see every muscle in her body jump to life as the climax hit
her like a freight train, listened as she screamed out in raw-voiced joy in
the rush of it.

His head fell forward. She wasn't his anymore. She'd been hijacked.