Part VI
The next morning, I get smacked between the eyes with the consequences of making love with Alyssa.
We didn't talk about it afterwards. We simply dressed and came home. She went straight to her bedroom and I escaped to mine. And was thoroughly miserable all night. Tension doesn't even come close to describing the air in the apartment and I hated it. Trouble was that I didn't know what to say or do to make it better.
Now, on any given morning, she is awake before me, already brewing coffee and making breakfast. But not so today. I thoroughly search the apartment when she's not in the kitchen as usual. As a last resort, I look out the front door and find that her little Chevy is gone. I must have slept like the dead when I finally got to sleep around four a.m. I didn't even hear her get up and leave!
Thinking--hoping, praying--she's probably already gone to work to avoid a confrontation with me alone, I jump in for a quick shower--forgoing coffee and food. All I need is to see Alyssa--I have to know that we're okay. The mere thought that we might not be makes my blood freeze with a fear I've never experienced before. Ducking under the hot spray to wash away the soap and shampoo, I actually have to advise myself to breathe slowly and deeply. After toweling off quickly and dressing, I lock up the apartment and head for my truck.
Later, I won't be able to tell you anything about the ride to the garage. I guess it's safe to say I didn't run over anyone, but only God knows exactly because I sure as hell wasn't paying attention. Even as I pull into the parking lot, the only fact that registers in my brain is that Alyssa's car is nowhere to be found. The panic that I had finally gotten down to a simmer in my belly flares back to life but I douse it for fear that I will completely lose my mind if I give in to it. I actually impress myself as I calmly climb from the 4x4 and unlock the office before going through to open all three bays. Just like every other day.
Except that my "hot rod" isn't with me to make work, or life in general, more bearable. Going back into the office, I boot up Alyssa's computer so I can check what's on the agenda for today. Where in the hell is she, damn it!?!? A glance at my wristwatch shows that it's still early and I tell myself to chill out. She's probably waiting until the last second so she can put off having to deal with what happened last night.
Which automatically takes me to staring at my desk and remembering every second. My erection begins to stir to life as a mental slide show flashes images of Alyssa laid out bare on the desktop, desire blazing from her beautiful blue eyes. Audio must have been included because I can still hear her husky voice, my name on her lips as she climaxed.
The simultaneous blip of the computer coming to life and the opening of the office door jolts me back to the task at hand. I look to the door first, expecting Jack, Arnie, or God please!, Alyssa. But it's none of the above.
She's tall, almost matching my six feet. Her raven black hair caresses the sides of her face down to her chin and her assessing eyes are almost as dark as her hair. Her black skirt ends mid-thigh, showing legs that never seem to end and small pert breasts are hugged by her light pink angora sweater.
"Can I help you?" I stand and step around Alyssa's desk, hand extended. She grips it with a firm, but not overly so, handshake. Her smile is polite and shows gleaming white teeth.
