He crossed the lobby of the Hollywood Hotel and headed for the door, filled with the energy he had just drawn from his latest victim. She was still up in her room and would likely remain there for another hour or so. One more time with her and she would be spent, he knew. He would miss this one—the way she rode him, the animal desire she had for him. Still, he had four other women in his stable, and he visited at least one of them every day. He would need to find another soon, but not right away. But as he walked out of the lobby and back onto the sidewalk, he stepped directly into the path of a woman as she rushed past the hotel entrance. The two collided, and he grabbed her by the arms to keep both of them from falling over. Caught off guard, sudden rage boiled up in him, and he almost called her a clumsy bitch. He held his tongue, though, as she blurted out, “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching wear I was going.” She was a slightly pudgy woman in her late thirties with dowdy clothes and an ugly purse, but when she saw his face, her smile made her look almost attractive.
