Chapter 9

She was waiting outside the building that she would be showing to her second client of the day. She had an Ipad that she used for work, but she preferred good old-fashioned pen-and-paper while brainstorming, so it was on a leather backed legal pad that she was running a bunch of numbers. She scribbled one item after another as they occurred to her. After doing some addition, she wrote $50,000 at the bottom of the pad and circled it.

She sat back in the driver’s seat of her BMW as she remembered the night’s events. As she did, she was reminded of the tattoo by the ache that flared up as she sat against it.

But that ache had been worth it. The feeling of his twenty-something meat sawing into her. His finger rubbing her clit. The feeling of his bare leg rubbing roughly against her wet puss-

KNOCK-KNOCK

Linda blinked, startled back to reality by the tapping on her window by her client, Mr. Degang. “John” Degang was a mid-sixties Chinese man who said his real first name was mostly unpronounceable so he had everyone just call him John even though he was well aware of Linda’s fluency. He was an technology importer and Linda was to show him a new location for a warehouse. He was presently smiling down at the day-dreaming woman.

“Good day, Miss Linda,” he said as she rolled down the window. He spoke with a thick accent but his English was impeccable.

“Good Morning, John,” Linda said, smiling back. He stepped away from the door as she opened it. In sliding her legs around to the ground, she discovered how wet she’d gotten thinking about Evan. She felt the squishing and wondered if Mr. Degang could hear it. He couldn’t, could he? Either way, she had a find a way to control her thoughts for the rest of the day. If she wasn’t careful, she’d leave a puddle on the tile floor. Whose insurance would cover in the event of a slip-and-fall resulting from the buyer’s realtor’s pussy juices leaking all over the place?

Evan sat in the break-room at the store. He was toying with a bottle of green tea, spinning it around in slow circles on the table as he stared off at nothing. In his mind’s eye, he was sitting behind Linda still, her naked back to him as he leaned over her. He wasn’t tattooing her, just sitting there. She looked at him over her shoulder with a smile.

His hands were running down her sides; he could almost feel that soft, white skin of her hips. She turned around on the chair to face him. He cupped one of her firm breasts and tweaked the perky nipple in the center. She cooed and slipped off the chair, kneeling in front of him. He realized that he was naked, too, and her mouth was headed for-

“Evan? Are you ok?”

Evan had no way of knowing that he was being shocked back to the real world at nearly the exact same time as Linda who was twelve miles away thinking of him in her car. In his case, it was Amanda, an eighteen-year-old deli girl, who had interrupted him.