“I think time got away from you, Clara. Your next appointment time was five minutes ago and the client is waiting.”
“Shoot. I am so sorry. Give me five minutes please.”
“Sure thing.”
As soon as she steps away, Eric strides over to his clothes. I close my thighs and then slide off the table, still shuddering from pleasure. Quickly, I jerk up my pants and panties. I snag a hot, wet towel from the steam cabinet and chuck it over to Eric. He catches it and cleans off his hand. While he finishes dressing, I rush through gathering all the used bedding and towels.
I can’t believe we just did that.
And almost got caught!
As soon as he’s no longer looking like a half-naked snack, Eric strides over to me. He pulls me to him for a quick hug and then kisses me deeply.
He’s not running away this time.
What will that mean for later?
I can’t wait to find out.
Eric
Ifucked up. Again. Right?
Why can’t I swipe the stupid grin off my face? Why do I keep sniffing my hand like a fucking animal?
I’m not remorseful. In fact, I’m acting like I just closed the deal of my life. I’m happy and flying high. I know I should be ashamed of myself, but it’s not happening.
I’ve washed my hands multiple times, and they smell like sugar cookie soap, but her scent is imbedded in my DNA now. I can smell her even with zero traces left. A shower couldn’t even erase her, though that’s probably because I used her body wash instead of mine.
Sick fucker.
Frosty yips at me and bounces on his hind legs. Whenever he does this, he’s so damn cute he gets whatever he wants. Since I’m baking in the kitchen, he wants a sweet treat. I snag one of the gingerbread men and break off a leg to toss at him.
“What do I do, Frosty?” I ask him over the sound of Bing Crosby crooning from Clara’s record player in the living room. “This is super fucked up, man.”
He barks at me, probably giving great advice but in a language I don’t understand. I reward him with the rest of the cookie. A knock on the back door has us both startling.
Frosty hightails it out of the kitchen to go hide, no doubt still traumatized by the dog catcher. I’ll beat a man with a rolling pin before I let him take my dog. When I reach the door, I’mrelieved the man standing there isn’t the dog catcher, but it’s immediately replaced by dislike when I recognize the guy.
Travis the electrician.
Some guy Clara used to fuck.
Gritting my teeth, I open the door and glower at him. “Yeah?”
He flashes me a warm smile. “Hey, man. Came over to take a look at the snowman. Brought my tools.”
I glance down at the small toolbox in his grip. The only reason I let this guy in is because by him fixing the snowman, it’ll make Clara happy. I don’t have to enjoy his presence, though.
“It’s over here by the front door,” I say, gesturing for him to follow me. “Want something to drink?”
Travis sniffs the air. For a brief moment I wonder if he can smell her. I stiffen, fisting my hands, until he grins.
“You making cookies? Can I have one of those?”
I’ll allow it.
With a grunt, I nod and leave him to check on the newest batch I’m making. Frosty scurries into the kitchen and sits by my feet. He’s such a good boy. We really lucked out on finding him.
