Chapter 7

I went back Tuesday night; I needed to know how things were going with Desiree. Frankly, that was the acid test; if Crystal had managed to fend her off, I was going to go for it. Desiree was there -- which was enough to get me to start tearing out my hair; I settled down and wrote a sticky note that said, "GOOD NIGHT, DESIREE!!!" and stuck it to the glass and withdrew.

It took them twenty minutes to find it, but Desiree left soon after -- and Crystal came to stand in front of the slider, masked, to let me know she was ready. I came in and kissed her and sat her down. "Is Des going to be a pest?"

"Well, she's my best friend..."

"I understand that, Baby, but she's also suspicious and a possible source of trouble. I know she's been at you -- where have you left things?"

"The official tale is that we agreed to a number of meetings like this before going all out -- kind of like that new TV show where they date in the dark."

"And the unofficial tale?"

"There is no unofficial tale. I've been holding out. I know it is important -- and Des isn't THAT important. I told her we started out the thing with a rape and kidnapping fantasy, but we're beyond that now."

"I should just tell her how ugly I am and be done with it," I grunted.

"But you're not. I KNOW you're not!"

"You've never seen my third eye..."

"Because it doesn't exist," Crystal laughed. "The mask told me THAT much..."

"Lots of theatrical makeup..."

"Come on..."

"Well, I never attracted a woman with my face hanging out there. You can draw any conclusion you like from that," I insisted.

"I never collected a man that way, either," Crystal replied, "I do better with a bag over my head!"

"Well, okay, whatever." Nothing seemed to be denting her enthusiasm. "I'd like to do domestic stuff -- cuddle and watch TV or something -- but one of us has to be covered up. When I know that Desiree is off our backs, we're moving on to the next level."

"How long will that be?"

"I guess if I'm not in jail in the next couple of days."

"We can trade off," Crystal offered. "Have you eaten? I CAN cook. We can watch TV with you masked, then make love with me masked..."

Not 'fuck' -- 'make love.' This was Crystal's approach to it. Luke was right; she was head over heels, poor thing. Well, in a couple of days, she could see the whole package -- and she would either love it or we would go our separate ways, both miserable. I knew I would be and all indications said she would, too. Desiree wasn't the backup option she thought she was, because Crystal could always tell her of our sordid beginnings. Objectively, I could still kill Crystal -- but that wouldn't work, either, for a number of reasons, not the least of which was the fact that Desiree knew Crystal had a mysterious boyfriend. I would be the prime suspect in the manhunt. Besides, I said 'objectively' -- because there was just NO WAY ... I was beyond cold, logical thought on the matter, long since -- probably since just after our first meeting, if I cared to admit it.

"I've eaten," I told her. "Give me a sec and we can watch TV or something that lets you use your eyeballs." I threw on the mask. We cuddled and did this and that -- it turns out that she isn't much more into TV than I am and we ended up doing role-play on her computer. I teased her with comments like, "An elven mage with jugs like these ... double threat!" Later, we switched out again and made out on the couch, then went to bed and, yes, made love. I loved listening to Crystal's wails while I sucked and licked her pussy, so we did that again, and she started to suck me, but I wanted pussy -- and she was in no mood to complain about THAT ... We went to sleep exhausted.

In the morning, I got up early and went out masked to go home and shower, shave, and change. I went to work happy and everything was great until...

... Until Desiree showed up at my table in the fast food place where I was having lunch. "Keith Sheffield. We should talk, don't you think?"

THIS sucked... "Not here." I got up and we left and walked to my current work site nearby -- a manufacturing building. I plopped down on a stack of sheetrock and she settled facing me and tossed a file folder on the stack. "Keith Sheffield, born..." She had my birthdate, school records -- shit, you name it. She finished with, "Not married. not engaged, no girlfriend. Not gay. So what is up?"

"Nothing is up. I've been burned, that's all. We were playing a game. It started out kinky, but is settling to domestic. Leave us alone; I'm going to tell her next time." I eyed the folder. "How did you manage this?"

"You were there. You were sleeping over. The slider was unlocked. You had thirty-three bucks and an old rubber in your wallet." She sat there a moment and added, "I run background checks for a living."

"Okay, so? Now what?"

"I want to know what this means." She threw out an MP3 player. I picked it and the headphones up and fumbled with it, so she took it away from me and started it. I guess the key quote was, "I guess if I'm not in jail in the next couple of days."

"So, what have you done?" she asked.

"You suck -- you know that?" I snapped. Pulling in my temper, I asked, "Does Crystal know?"

"Uh uh. This is MY show. I wanted to know why you had to be a mystery."

"And you STILL don't!"

"Talk to me about jail."

"I TOLD you I'm wanted in several states..." I threw out.

" ... Only you aren't..."

"This is between Crystal and me. In fact, this is STRICTLY between Crystal and me. No one else is involved. No one else SHOULD be -- and that includes YOU!" I ranted.