Chapter Thirteen
Erin
The combination of the faint tremor in my hands and the dim lighting in the restaurant’s bathroom makes it difficult to read the instructions printed in a tiny font on the back of the feminine lubricating oil, but eventually I manage. It doesn’t sound too complicated.
My phone, which I placed on top of the toilet paper holder, chirps. I’ve got a new text.
Wearing the stockings?
A smile tugs the corners of my mouth. I’ve never been the kind of girl who goes for fancy lingerie. Mostly because before someone needs clothing designed to spice up their love life, they need to actually have a steady love life, or at least the promise of one.
As soon as I rolled the stockings on and strapped the garter belt in place, I realized I was wrong. Something about the feel of the exotic underwear boosted my confidence, made me feel sexier than I’d ever felt before, even though no one knows what I have on under my dress. The combination of stockings, garter belt, and no undies makes me feel dangerous and sexy, two things I didn’t think I was even capable of.
Still, I hope I don’t get into a car accident before I have a chance to get home and put on new panties. My experience going commando is something that should only be shared with a few, select people, not the entire hospital staff.
Yes. I love them. Thanks!
Grinning, I send the text. Holding my breath, I wait for a response. It doesn’t take long.
And the lube?
Ah yes, the lube. I frown at the packet in my hand, not quite sure what to make of it.
It says that I shouldn’t put it on until right before I’m ready to have sex. And I haven’t even had dinner yet.
A second later, his response fills my screen.
Put it on now. It’ll turn you on while you eat. By the time you get to dessert, you’ll be desperate to fuck your perfect doctor. You’ll be lucky to make it out of the restaurant and into the car without embarrassing both of you.
I frown at my phone. This text is a huge change in his tone. He’s never used the work fuck before, kind of surprising, considering his profession. That word, combined with the rest, make him sound … bitter. But why would he be?
I open the packet of lube, squeeze the contents onto my fingertips and stare at it. The gelatinous blob smells faintly of primrose. Donna promised that this brand works, but so far it doesn’t seem any more interesting or magical than the hand cream I always carry in my purse.
Still, if I want my life to change, I have to be willing to try new things, and in the grand scheme of things, a female lubricant isn’t very scary.
Taking a deep breath, I widen my stance, which considering the height of my heels, isn’t easy, and use my free hand to hike my skirt up around my hips. Careful to not smear any of the lubricant on my stocking tops or garters, I carefully work the slippery stuff into my lady parts, taking care to make sure both my clit and labia are covered in a generous layer.
My phone chirps while I’m working with the lube. I ignore it.
Using my elbow to hold my skirt up, I slip my hand from between my legs and close my eyes, trying to tell if there’s any difference. Maybe a very faint tingling, but otherwise nothing.
Disappointed, I smooth my skirt back into place and tear off a bit of toilet paper to wipe the excess moisture off my hand.
Figures! A good lubricant that practically promises an orgasm that’s endorsed by the owner of a sex shop, and I don’t feel a damn thing. Talk about proof that there’s something wrong with me!
Gathering up my phone and evening purse with my clean hand, I storm out of the stall and wash my hands before remembering the text message.
During dinner, enjoy some wine, but don’t overdo it. Drink just enough to feel all warm and loose, but no so much that you’re drunk.
Drink wine. Finally, a reasonable request.
Rolling my eyes, I shove my phone into my purse and paste a pretty smile on my face that doesn’t reach my eyes. Squaring my shoulders, I push through the bathroom door and make my way across the dining room, where my date is waiting for me.
Despite getting all dressed up, or dressed down, depending on how you look at it, I’m not feeling nearly as prepared for this date as I should be. No matter how much I tell myself to be optimistic, I can’t shake the tight knot of dread that’s been building in my stomach since I called Dan last night.
This was a bad idea. The thought slams into me when I’m just a few feet from the table where he waits. The only reason I even welcomed him to my bed the other night was because I’d been all hot and bothered from my encounter with Garret Holden in the lobby. Had I not been distracted by that, I would have made a clean break.
Still, it’s too late to run now. I might as well see this thing through to the end. Besides, maybe now that we’ve had sex, we’ll be more relaxed with one another, and maybe that will trigger an honest-to-goodness spark between us.
Determined to make the best of the situation, I slide into my seat and plaster a big grin across my face.
I lock eyes with my dinner companion. “Hello, Dan.”