'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,
