The Dirty Sheets

When he boiled it all down, it could be summed up in what his mirror showed him. All the other stuff he didn't mind at all. It was just the mirror thing. If they were walking along together, as they would be tonight, no one would know who had what degrees, nor who held what positions with the company, but they could all see how she looked and how he looked. That was all that really bothered him.

She'd given him not only her address but the code to open the gate to Heritage Village, where she lived. She'd told him that she had a device she carried in her purse that opened the gate when she drove up, but he could enter the code and open the gate as well. That's what he'd done, driven up to the huge iron gate, or rather gates, each with the rather beautiful but nondescript coat of arms mounted in the center. He'd pulled close to the little kiosk, entered the numbers, and watched, a little in awe, as the large gates swung slowly open.

He'd driven through and followed her verbal directions until he spotted the BMW she'd described to him, and he pulled in beside it. She'd called it an apartment, but, as far as he was concerned, it was anything but that. Huge brick and vine-covered buildings, modernized with floor-to-ceiling windows, each unit looking big enough to ... he wasn't sure, maybe house two or three families. As he sat there looking around, those feelings he was having before were closing in around him, threatening to smother him. He pushed them aside and quickly jumped out of the car, now able to ignore them.

Lisa had debated about what to wear ... endlessly it seemed. It was just dinner, and she'd gone to dinner before, but this Eric guy was different, and she had to recognize that. She'd decided on black slacks and a pair of Peter Kaiser Aria low-heeled shoes she'd gotten while in England the last time she was there. That was the easy part. She finally chose a red, short sleeve, split-neck curved blouse that would hang loosely just below her waist. It was a little on the casual side, but she thought it fit what she was imagining. She didn't know where they were going for dinner yet, but it didn't need to be too formal. As a final accent to how she wanted to look, she carefully pulled her hair into a ponytail. That was the look she wanted, the Whitworth Island look rather than the VP look he saw during the week.

Finally ready, she headed downstairs.

Eric walked slowly to the double front doors that had a huge faux knocker and giant brass handle on each. He found the button for the doorbell and pressed it, hearing the first two quartets from the Westminster chimes. As his heart began to beat faster, one of the doors swung open. He'd never seen her quite like this before. How could someone as beautiful as she was be almost more breathtaking standing there fully clothed than she was naked.

And, she was smiling at him as he stood there, open-mouthed but wordless. It made his heart speed up drastically. He was having trouble thinking of something appropriate to say and was hoping that the look he knew he had to have was speaking to her in the word's stead.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi yourself," he finally replied, just shaking his head as he gazed at her.

"Come on in," she said, taking hold of his hand. He went inside far enough for her to close the door behind him but then just stood still, looking around. In the front room, the second-story windows he had seen weren't second-story at all. They were just high up on the wall but still well under the twenty-foot ceiling that towered over the room.

That was just the beginning as she took him through the "apartment." He sensed her watching him as he looked around and couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to live in a place like this. Was it a possibility? He was sure the awe he was feeling had to be showing. He remembered what she'd said to him on the island and was curious about the second floor ... and her bedroom, but she skipped taking him there. Maybe later stuck in his mind, his anticipation growing. If that's what she wanted, he wanted it too. But the more they looked around, the more he realized he was liking what he was seeing, both in this place and in her. Oddly and somewhat surprisingly, in his mind, Wilma and Lisa were beginning to merge.

After the brief tour, and with the new thoughts he was pondering, they were ready to head out for dinner.

Going down the walk to the car, she said, "You look very nice tonight."

"Thanks," he said, glad she'd noticed the care he'd taken in selecting his clothes which, in actuality, were not much different than what he wore to work. The usual tan slacks, but tonight he'd chosen a vivid orange golf shirt—orange was his favorite color and some casual Sketcher slip-ons. But he did like that she had complimented him.

"Let's take my car," she said with a big smile. She handed him the keys, which weren't keys, but that conveyed the message that she'd like for him to drive. He was just a tad puzzled by that, but he'd never driven a BMW, and the thought of doing that was a little enticing.

"Sure," he answered, opening the passenger side door and getting her settled inside. Then around the car and into the driver's seat. "Tell me if I do something wrong."

"It's just a car," she laughed.

Just a touch nervous, he got the thing started, and they were on their way. New feelings were running through Eric's body, driving a beautiful BMW with an equally beautiful lady beside him. It felt a little like a dream, even though he knew it wasn't. When they'd stop at a red light, he'd glance at the people in the car next to them, trying to look casual, as if this was all very ordinary, but wasn't sure he was pulling it off. But the thought of it being ordinary was entrancing.

Sometimes he'd glance over at Lisa and, if she were looking at him, he'd get a gorgeous smile which made his heart beat a little faster. If he took his hand off the steering wheel, she'd reach over and give it a squeeze. It nearly frazzled his brain when she did that. This was Lisa Haskins, Vice President of Operations, sitting next to him -- and squeezing his hand. His boss's boss. Just that thought was nearly overwhelming to him but immensely warming as well. What happened at the island was one thing. Not really just one thing but one thing for sure. This was real life, riding with her and going to dinner. He was nervous, like he'd be on any first date, but was handling it. Handling it much better than he thought he might.

Soon they were pulling into the parking lot at Red's Corral, the small steakhouse he'd picked and hoped she'd like. She opened her door and climbed out, to Eric's smile as that simple action made it seem like they belonged together, which was what he wanted and was feeling very comfortable with. She wrapped her arm around his, and they headed to the door at Red's and then inside.

The hostess was there quickly, talking with Eric and shaking her head. They were seated, and Lisa made a point of reaching across the table to hold his hand. With the way she felt about Eric, it's what she would have typically done anyway. With what she was trying to do, it had a double purpose.

They ordered, talked, ate, talked, had dessert with coffee, and talked a little more.

He paid, and they left. This time he did open the door for her, as casually as he could muster, and then went to the driver's side of the white BMW and climbed in.

"Let's go to your place," she said quickly, catching him totally off-guard.

"What?" he mumbled out as his eyes met hers.

"You've seen my apartment; My turn to see yours."

"Not fair," he countered quickly. "I, um, well, I didn't clean or anything. Best to go back to yours."

Eric was not sure what to do. His place wasn't exactly a mess, but it hadn't been straightened or cleaned at all, something he knew should be done before Lisa would be allowed to go there and see it. Ugh. He was at a loss, even though her wanting to go there was tugging at another part of him.

"You sure?" he asked, his voice a little unsteady.

She leaned across the seat, pulled his head to her, and kissed him, a small nibble to his lower lip accentuating what she was doing.

"I always have to convince you I mean what I say. But as long as I can do it this way," and she kissed him again, the nibble there also," then it's okay."

She watched as he took a deep breath.

"Take me to your place, and you better get there quickly, okay?" She was just inches from him, that beautiful face gazing at his. Was that longing he could see in those eyes, locked with his, or was his imagination being seduced by the feel of her breath against his face. When her tongue touched his lips, he knew it wasn't imagination.

Thank goodness she had moved back to her side of the car, but he was sure she could see the tent that had been quickly pitched in his slacks. At least he could drive this way, although he was afraid his breathing might fog the windshield.

His apartment wasn't far from Red's Corral either, so they were quickly there, and she allowed him to open the door for her this time. He saw her eyeing the tent that was still there and was afraid, from her look, that she might try to grab it. He breathed easier as she maintained her lady-like demeanor and slid gracefully out of the car, and watched him close the door. She quickly grabbed hold of his arm again, and, like they were dancing, she was letting him lead.

The confidence Eric had gained at the restaurant and from that fantastic kiss he had gotten in the car was still there, but he was naturally still a little hesitant as they approached the door leading to his apartment. Up the stairs to the second floor and down the hall, they were finally there.

Lisa had to smile, as it appeared that Eric was trembling enough that he couldn't quite make his hand insert the key in the lock. So, she took the key, unlocked the door, and pushed him inside.

"What the hell, this isn't bad!" she exclaimed once inside.

Eric shrugged, and she could tell he wasn't entirely comfortable with her seeing his slightly unkempt apartment despite what she'd said.

But she wasn't waiting for Eric and was roaming around, looking at things, as if she belonged there. She checked the kitchen area, down the hallway with a glance in the bathroom, then to the bedroom.

Eric had drifted to the window and was looking at Lisa's BMW parked outside his apartment. It was working its way into his brain. Lisa's BMW, not Wilma's. This was Lisa he had taken on a date. It was Lisa who wanted to come to his apartment, who was now looking around, seemingly not at all put off by what she was seeing.

She called back to Eric.

"You left the bed unmade. That's perfect."

Hearing no response, she came around the corner to see Eric shaking his head.

"Why is your head shaking?"

"How can an unmade bed be perfect?"

"Well, if it were made, that would just, well, not be quite right for what I'm thinking. Worse yet would be clean sheets. When I get in that bed, I want to know that I'm laying my body right where yours has lain, that a part of you is still there, that you're not only lying beside me but under me and all around me as well and when I wrap that sheet around me, I'm wrapping you around me too."

The look on his face told her she'd said enough that what she'd said was having its desired effect, and it was time to get what they both wanted.

Eric moved toward her. He put his hands on her cheeks, gently kissed her, then reached around behind her, carefully undoing the ponytail. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders. He gazed at . . . Lisa. Wilma had disappeared.

"Get undressed," she said seductively, "and I'll race you to the bed."

Eric was getting undressed, but he knew that winning this race didn't matter. A close second would be plenty good enough, and that's what happened.

It was indoors, with no sun, no breeze, and no blistering heat other than what they were able to generate between them, their inner fires burning, intensifying all the feelings, the sounds, the sensations that rushed through their bodies as they clung tightly to each other.

Dirty sheets or not, he could feel her body bonding to his, her lips pressed against his, her tongue wrestling with his. He wanted nothing more at this moment than to touch, taste, and kiss every bit of her, to be entwined with her for the rest of his life, to be a part of her every thought, to have her possess him, as he possessed her.

He felt her hand guiding his erection and sensed that foreplay wasn't going to be a part of this that was happening. There'd be plenty of time for that later. This was about their joining, the realization that something had changed, and this was the stamp that would make it authentic, that would confirm what had happened and what was continuing to happen. It was the imprint in the wax that sealed the scroll with the story of two lives that had inadvertently come together but seemed inexorably meant to stay together.

"I've never done this on a first date," she whispered in his ear as she felt him sliding inside of her. "But, I've never had a first date like this before either." In the darkness, neither could see the other but seeing might have been just overload as their senses were being stretched to a point that was nearly more than either could handle. Just the physical sensations were almost overwhelming, but with the emotional exhilaration that was accompanying it, each felt they might explode at any second, the ecstasy of the combination fueling the sensations that were swirling through them and creating the sounds that were surrounding them.

Eric clutched Lisa, pulling her against him even tighter. "I'm going to come," he groaned as his body began to jerk.

"Me too," she moaned in his ear, her body shuddering and trembling uncontrollably.

Afterward, neither was willing to let loose of the other, as if what they had found was too precious to release.

This time the sex had been more about tenderness than fulfilling desire, more about warmth than raging fire, more about lovemaking than raw passion. Still, when it ended, and they finally uncoiled their arms from each other, both were breathless and at last ready for what might come next.

Lisa was the first to speak. "I've never done that before," she said, her lips against his ear, her body still tingling.

"What ... oh, really?" He kissed her, a nibble to her lower lip, meaning something very special.

They lay together, holding each other, their minds filled with what had just happened.

Finally, Eric spoke again. "I guess we should get dressed, and I should take you home?" It was more of a question than a statement, though.

She could feel his huge grin against her cheek.

"Listen, Mr. Eric, I'm staying right here, and you knew darn well that's what's going to happen. You just wanted to hear me say it," she said, giving him a gentle squeeze and the answer he was longing for and expecting.

He did love hearing that and couldn't believe that a simple thing like dirty sheets could change his life. Of course, it wasn't the sheets but what she'd said about them and about him that had changed things. That was the final thing that had, at long last, unlocked a door in his brain, and all his doubts had rushed out, to vanish forever.

They lay in his bed, her back against his chest, her butt wedged against his crotch, their legs pressed against each other's, their first spooning together.

"You still awake?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he answered. "Are you?"

An elbow to his ribs. "Jerk."

"B-B," he shot back quickly.

"So, you've heard that already?"

"First day."

"You think it fits?" She pressed against him as she asked that.

"Well, the first B sure fits, and if the second refers to this," he squeezed her breast, "then it fits too."

"Nice try, but answer the question."

"Everyone sees things through their own eyes."

"Eric!" She tried to sound a little like the BB but without much success.

"Any woman with a strong personality, and in your position, is going to be called a bitch somewhere along the line. You know that. They probably taught you that at Harvard."

"I suppose," she said quietly. "Maybe I'll get a new nameplate for my desk. Should it say Bitch Vice President of Operations or Vice President Bitch of Operations?"

"Decisions like that are way out of my pay grade," he laughed.

.

"So, you were lying here awake then?"

"Yeah, just smelling your cologne and smiling."

"What were you thinking about?" she was anxious to learn as much as she could about him.

Eric sighed and hugged Lisa a little tighter.

"About you . . . and me . . . and us . . . and the future."

"Pretty heavy load for this late at night."

"Used to be heavy, but not anymore."

"Good," she said, squeezing his hand.

"I was kind of pondering one other thing, though." He nibbled on her ear.

"What would that be?" she queried, laughing and snuggling back against him even more.

"Just trying to picture what our kids might look like."

"Eric, my god! It's our first date!" she cried out, twisting around to face him, wishing she could see his face in the darkness and trying to keep from laughing.

"You told me once that you didn't ask questions unless you wanted to hear the answer."

"Lawyers say you shouldn't ask a question that you don't know the answer to. I may have to start doing that."

But now they were face to face, and he kissed her gently on the forehead.

"We're not teenagers anymore, Lisa. Don't want to waste time." There was a lighthearted sound to his voice that she couldn't help but like.

"You don't even know how old I am," she quipped back.

"No, I don't, but I'm willing to bet you know how old I am."

She was glad it was dark so that he couldn't see the rosiness in her cheeks. "Checked your HR file. Didn't want to be robbing the cradle, you know."

"So, tell."

"You're one month and seventeen days older than I am." She couldn't help but giggle when she said that.

"I'm wide awake now," he said,

She sensed a change in his breathing, thought she might even be able to feel his heart beating against her chest., and something was beginning to press against her belly.

"Me too."

"Wanna practice making one of those kids I was talking about?"

"Sure," she answered, her lips pressing against his, pulling his lower lip out so she could nibble on it.

.My sincere thanks to MsCherylTerra and Ginlover for their myriad suggestions to keep this story rolling.

Also, a huge thanks to the Ancient Ancestors for their beta reads, input, editing, and suggestions. It's appreciated.