Moonlight Meetings - Three Erotic Supernatural Stories (The three first stories from Suzy's Adventures) by Dorian Mayfair

successful year.”
    “Er, no. Candy from strange men and all that. But thanks.”
    “Oh.” The man poured a glass half-full and swished the golden fluid around. He turned and looked close at the glass in his hand. That infuriating smile was on his lips again. “You do not trust me.”
    “I do,” Suzy said, holding on to the rock with whitening fingers. “It’s just – ” She sighed. “Okay, I don’t. I mean, I don’t know you. And I have a habit of not drinking stuff I don’t know where it came from.” She sniffed. “What is that, anyway?” The scent of the drink seemed to wash over her in waves. Light, sweet and fruity but with a world of undertones. Acorns and berries, apples, leaves and flowers. She was sure, but she didn’t know how she knew.She was sure she’d never eaten an acorn.
    “Cider,” he said. “An old recipe.”
    “You brewed it yourself?”
    “Yes. Not far from here.”
    “In the forest? ”
    “In a cave. Up there, where the stream starts.”
    Making his own cider in a cave. She would have thought he was a complete hippie, if he had not radiated a distinct un-hippiness. He dressed like a hobo but he talked and moved with the controlled manners of a prince. Not that she had met any, but still.
    “I understand your hesitation,” he said. “As men go, you must think I am strange. Here, I will drink. Will that make you less apprehensive?”
    “Not really.”
    He shrugged, raised the glass to his lips, finished half of its contents and then lowered the glass, looking at Suzy over the rim. She realized she stood only a step away. When had she moved?
    “Persuaded?” he asked.
    She really should not. If there was something nasty in the drink, he might be immune or have taken some kind of antidote. Or he might just be tricking her, making it look as if he drank. A cunning serial killer in a funny hat. But then, he had tried to protect her, which was both annoying and kind of charming. And the hat was gone.
    What the hell. The theme of the evening seemed to be total outlandishness, so Suzy decided to go with the flow. She reached out, took the glass and sipped, holding his eyes.
    The fluid washed down her throat and left a cloud of sweet aftertaste on her tongue. She sipped again and handed the glass back. “That’s really good.”
    “Thank you.”
    “I should go,” Suzy said briskly and stood up.
    “If you wish. I would rather you stayed. The night is warm, and young.”
    “People keep telling me that.” Move, feet. Move, I said.
    “Would you like to swim?”
    “Swim? What, here? With you?” The questions flew out of her mouth so fast she had no chance to stop them. If he thought she would jump into that pond with him, he was out of his mind.
    Only it was pretty clear he did think just that. Suzy’s pulse began to whisper in her ears. That’s because I’m scared. Right?  But she was not. Despite his height and build, she felt perfectly at ease, and she had done so long before she tasted his cider. At the cabin, facing the boys, he had been a different being, all raw intimidation and threat. Now he was relaxed and casual, if still pretty imposing.
    The man started to unbutton his shirt, seemingly intent on bathing whether she planned to or not. What if he meant to drown her? But if he meant to, why the cavalry-to-the-rescue-act at the cabin?
    There was, of course, the possibility that he hoped to do something entirely different.
    Suzy bit her lip. She could not have been gone more than half an hour. Three more hours before Catherine and the rest of the hopeless brigade arrived.
    “Sure,” Suzy said, wishing her pulse would slow down. “Just a quick dip. There are people waiting for me back up at the house.” She prided herself over the lie. Now he knew she was not alone, or at least she hoped he did. She turned around, kicked off her shoes, unzipped her tracksuit top and flung it over a stone, followed by her pants and her socks. When she turned back, the man was