Jessica could feel his erection pressing into the small of her back and she moaned as his hand lifted up the edge of her skirt, just teasing her lady parts through the satin panties. "Yes, there! Touch me there," she whispered. He slipped one hand under the fabric and stroked her gently one time, but only one, before withdrawing and pulling her around to face him in the darkness.
Instinctively, she began to slide her panties off. "Oh, Eric!" she moaned. "Oh my God!" The counter would support her weight; she was sure of it. Or the floor, anywhere. Eric was just one surprise after another!
Instead, she sensed, rather than saw, him move away from her, the sound of a helmet being replaced, the soft hint of the doorknob being turned. Even the faint light from downstairs was bright, interrupting the sensual velvet she had been surrounded with seconds before. When the door closed, it was completely dark again.
"What in the world," she muttered, reaching for the light switch. A glance at the mirror made her grateful she hadn't followed Eric out, even though that was what every cell of her body had wanted to do, run right out the door after him. One breast was almost completely exposed; satin panties circled one of her ankles. Her lipstick and mascara were smeared from the heat and energy and fierce embrace.
Finishing the glass of wine in one gulp, Jessica readjusted herself and searched until she found make-up wipes and cosmetics. Rita wouldn't mind.
"Wowza," Jessica said softly to her reflection as she touched up her face. She would whisper in Eric's ear that she was ready to go home and not take no for an answer. If she didn't attack him in the car, she'd certainly do it when they reached his apartment. She had never experienced passion like that, not ever. He had really been holding out on her!
Suitably put back together, heart still pounding, Jessica started down the spiral staircase, looking for Eric, ready to flash him one of those "come hither" looks her mom joked about.
There! Standing by the bar, he'd given up on the helmet altogether, apparently, and was nibbling a slider while chatting with Rita's sister. Cousin? She couldn't remember, but who cared! Eric had finally found his pa–
When she was a few steps from the bottom, a voice to one side made her turn. "Looking for someone?"
Jessica gasped. Darth Vader stood to her left. Stupidly, she gazed across the room at Eric, who caught her eye and gave a little wave. Not moving her head, she looked back at Darth. Back at Eric. Back at Darth.
Not-Eric-after-all took off his helmet, and Jessica looked into the greenest eyes she'd ever seen—or maybe she had? She had caught the eye of a handsome mail carrier recently at the office, but, no, not possible. His head was completely shaved, with a neat goatee and mustache. She would have known it wasn't Eric.
Or would she? In a panic, she realized that things had gotten so hot and heavy so quickly, she honestly didn't remember if she'd caressed Bathroom Man's head or not.
The man smiled a little sadly. Jessica was startled by what looked to be a deep blush on his cheeks. He stepped up beside her and whispered, "Whoever Eric is, he's one lucky man." Without another word, he put his helmet on and walked out the front door.
The room suddenly started to spin.
"Have a little too much wine, honey? I could tell," Rita said, hurrying up with a laugh as she led her friend to the white leather sofa.
"I'm fine," Jessica said, waving her hands at Rita. "Really. Go! Do your party!" She closed her eyes, leaning her head onto the sofa cushion. The incessant drone of canned jazz and bits of a dozen conversations blended into white noise. She let it all fade away until it was dark inside her eyelids, quiet inside her head, and she could imagine she was in the bathroom again with the man who had made her realize what passion could be. What it should be. What it would be? Of course not, silly woman. Mistaken identity all around. Jessica opened her eyes and looked across the room at Eric, catching him staring at her. He frowned.
Halloween, Jessica thought, will never be the same. And neither will I.
Chapter 3
The Apology
Pulling out of her apartment's parking garage the next Monday morning, Jessica glanced up into the rearview mirror and realized she had left without a smidgen of make-up. That's what I do, she thought. I get so distracted that I don't think straight. She did a quick U-turn, backtracked to her numbered spot and ran up the stairs. Maybe a little more exercise will shake my brain back into gear. So much for yoga reducing my stress, she thought wryly.
She'd gotten up early to exercise, stretching and breathing, trying to get the bathroom scene to vacate her mind. Not even the Lion's Breath stress pose had helped. Sticking out her tongue and popping out her eyes, while exhaling? All she could think of was his tongue on her neck. Yikes.
Ten minutes later, she checked the mirror again. Two earrings, check. Eyeliner, check. Lipstick, check. Her building was not far as the crow flew, but with traffic, the commute gave her time to gather her thoughts and prepare for the day. Today, the rain would slow things down a little more. She had just missed a downpour when she got back into her car, but now it was coming down hard. More time to gather her thoughts, perhaps, but in the three months she had worked for Our Place magazine, she had never had such thoughts as these.
That man. Bathroom Guy. The more she thought about their passionate few minutes at the party Friday night, the angrier she became. She'd welcomed a man she had thought was her kind and decent boyfriend. True, Eric had never been that passionate,
