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,

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