outside by the smoking station—"

Again, that flash of something furtive and guilty in his gaze.

"And it wasn't the gym," I continued as though I hadn't

seen it. "Where was it?"

His dark eyes gleamed again. "Outside the Speckled

Toad."

My mouth opened, but I had nothing to say.

He snapped his fingers again and crowed, laughing. "Yes!

I'm right, right? That's where it was? I knew you looked

familiar!"

"I love that place." With my laundry in my hands, there

was no chance I was going to leap into his arms, so I kept

was no chance I was going to leap into his arms, so I kept

it there.

"Me, too." Eric's smile softened as he looked over my

face. He seemed to be studying me harder this time. He

nodded after a moment. "Yes. That's definitely it. A few

weeks ago, right? You were going in and—"

"You were going out. Yes." I pretended to just remember

now. "I guess that's why when I saw you in the Mocha I

noticed you. You looked familiar."

It sounded like a much better story, said that way, and

Eric's grin stretched wider. "Uh-huh. Wow. Smal world,

huh?"

"Infinitely."

I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to kiss me. Instead, I

bent to finish puling the rest of the clothes from the dryer

and into my basket. He was stil staring when I stood, my

basket in my hands.

"What are you doing after you're done with your laundry?"

"I thought I'd read my book…" I glanced at the clock on

the wal, then back at him. "I have to work tomorrow.

the wal, then back at him. "I have to work tomorrow.

Why?"

"I was going to watch a movie. Monty Python and the

Holy Grail. Have you seen it?"

"No." I drew the word out, slow, not wanting to jump to

conclusions.

"Would you like to?"

I pretended to think about it, though inside I was already

screaming out the YESYESYES of Saly's deli orgasm in

When Harry Met Sally. "Are you asking me to watch it

with you?"

"I am." He spread his hands at his sides. "How about it?"

"Sure. Why not? Just let me put this stuff away and I'l

come over."

"Great!" He flashed straight, white teeth and al I could

think about was how they'd feel denting my flesh. "Half an

hour, then? Forty minutes?"

"Sounds good."

"I'm in one-fourteen," Eric said.

I dropped my basket.

Chapter 18

"Are you al right?" Eric had already gone to one knee to gather my scattered clothes while I did nothing but gape.

The world made one slow revolution as everything

changed.

I recovered wel, or at least wel enough to keep him from

checking my pulse and offering me CPR. I watched his

strong, big hands slide along my clothes and put them back

in the basket, and I didn't move. When he stood to hand

me the basket, I took it.

"Fine." I sounded fine. I even managed a smile. I white-

knuckle-clutched the laundry basket and kept my eyes

pinned on his. "Let me just run this home and I'l meet you

at your place, okay?"

We rode the elevator together, not in silence, though

looking back it's impossible for me to remember what we

talked about. I remember his voice, low and rich, and the

sound of his chuckle when I made some smal joke. I

remember the sound of machinery whirring as we lifted

and the way the cool breeze blew against my face when

and the way the cool breeze blew against my face when

the door opened on his floor. I can recal the gleam in his

eyes when he glanced over his shoulder, and the half wave

he gave me as the door closed. But I can't remember what

we said.

In my apartment I set my basket on the bed and puled

open the door on my nightstand. From inside I took the

folded paper on which I'd written my most erotic memory,

and the bottle of Cum-Ezee I'd retrieved from the trash

before I emptied it. Without the notes and their

commands, I wouldn't have either one of them. I looked

around my bedroom, at the new clothes in the closet, at

the books on the shelf. At the new me I'd become because

of those letters.

None of them meant for me.

Al of them for him.

The sound of my laughter stung my ears and I closed my

mouth tight to keep it from escaping again. I looked at the

jumbled mess of laundry in my basket and thought of Eric

on his knees, picking it up. My heart thumped a little faster

and my throat got a little drier.

Al this time I'd imagined the intended recipient of the

letters to be a woman. Not me but like me, at least. To

discover they were meant for a man…I shook my head,

my hair faling forward from the clip. I closed my eyes and

pressed a fist to my lips. They'd been meant for a man.

Did that mean the writer of the notes was…a woman?

God, that was so fucking hot I couldn't stand it.

My cunt bloomed molten heat and the seam of my jeans

pressed suddenly on my clit as I let myself fal back on the

bed. My nipples tightened, begging for a mouth and hands

on them. I took my hand from my mouth and let it roam

my body, though they did little to ease the sudden fire.

Minutes ticked by as I ran through the lists and pictured

Eric performing the tasks I'd found so arousing. What

memory had taken him so long to write he'd returned it

late? What had he bought at the store that had

embarrassed him? I thought of his basket, his laundry, and

the blue shirt there.

I sat, my hair askew and clinging to my forehead in places.

Sweating, I puled off my shirt and jeans and ran the

shower cold enough to make me hiss as I got in and rinsed

off quickly. New panties, new bra, not so fancy as though

off quickly. New panties, new bra, not so fancy as though

it would look as if I was trying too hard should my clothes

happen to come off. A fresh T-shirt, sleek-fitting, soft and

flattering. My favorite jeans, the ones that gave me a round

ass but kept my gut tucked up tight. The gut I didn't realy

have any longer, I had to admit as I checked out my

reflection. Courtesy of those lists, I'd been working out

more diligently than I ever had.

I swiped a brush through my hair and slid clear gloss over

my lips. A dusting of powder finished me off without

making it look as though I'd tried too hard. I grabbed a

couple of packages of microwave popcorn and a big bowl

from my cupboard, slipped my feet into a pair of flip-flops

and tucked my key into my pocket.

My phone buzzed as I debated taking it with me. Now

Austin caled me? After so long silent? I put the phone on

the table, flipped it the bird and locked my door behind

me.

Eric hadn't changed his clothes, but I spied teltale wetness

in his hair that told me he'd at least washed his face.

Minty-fresh breath gave away the fact he'd brushed his

teeth, too, and I hid a grin as he let me in. I hadn't been the

only one assuming there might be more to this than

watching a movie.

I did brace myself as I stepped inside his apartment, but

on first glance I didn't see anything freaky. He gave me a

quick tour. Living room, kitchen. His was a two-bedroom

unit, and he used one for an office complete with shiny

new iMac that had me salivating with envy. He didn't take

me into his bedroom, but I caught a glimpse through the

open door. His window overlooked the parking garage,

same as mine, but he was closer to it.

I'd been half expecting a St. Andrews Cross in the living

room. I think I was a little disappointed. Eric did have a lot

of leather, but in the form of a modern black-and-chrome

sofa and chairs arranged in front of a flat-screen television

hooked up to a bunch of high-end equipment.

"You have a Wi. Sweet."

"Ever played?" Typical male, proud to show off his toys,

Eric grinned and headed for the TV.

"Sure. Not for a while, though."

"Want to try a game of tennis? I know it's not the latest

"Want to try a game of tennis? I know it's not the latest

and greatest, but it's stil fun." He held up the controler.

That's how we ended up playing video games instead of

canoodling on the couch under a blanket, hoping our

hands met in the popcorn bowl. Eric had a wicked

backhand, and yet he let me win. We laughed a lot as we

played, sharing the sort of random conversation that lets

you get to know someone without treading into territory

too intimate for a first date.

If that was what this was. I had my doubts. Brushed teeth

aside, Eric didn't seem to have any intentions about putting

any moves on me, if he ever had. It had been a long time

since I read a guy wrong, but it wasn't impossible. When

at last we colapsed together onto his slippery leather

couch, Eric's smile didn't give me any clues one way or the

other.

I was flummoxed, to say the least, my confidence shaken.

I remembered the trip to Sensations, and how the clerk

had set me back. I didn't get a gay vibe from Eric, and in

any case, if he liked boys, why had he invited me over in