Feeling somewhat 'safe' as a married woman, Lena laughed at a friend's suggestion that a young man in her life might be aiming to seduce her. True, her marriage was on the rocks but that was between her and her husband. No strapping young men would turn her head around and tumble her into bed, Halloween madness or not...
___
"I realize I should be offering assistance, Mrs. Fraser," he said, his eyes twinkling a little. "But I'm afraid I'm a bit out of my depth here.
"Shall I maybe break the other heel to even things out? You know, like in commercials? Or... No," he quickly shook his head. "I suppose you wouldn't like to damage the shoes. See, I'm no good at this."
I laughed, still surprised at the slight breathlessness in my voice. I hoped the dim lighting was sufficient to hide all the silly blush.
"No, not really. These shoes are what I wear when I'm... ah, roughing it."
"Ah, yes," he nodded. "You were out for a quick drink before the ball.
"But... your friends, Mrs. Fraser, are they not coming?"
I was no longer blushing at the time, my whole body had turned warm and sensitive. Rex kept his face neutral, his voice even, but I knew from the flash in his eyes he was lingering, his hands holding firm where they were.
"We... ah, we got separated."
"Oh," he hesitated. "Nothing serious, I hope? I mean - "
Maybe I was imagining things but I could feel his hands pressing a lot harder now, his body heat apparent now that we were almost embracing.
"No, nothing serious."
My mouth was dry and I thought it all came down to Rex's warmth and the fact that he was only partially listening, his eyes dark and focused on my lips...
"What do you want to do then, Mrs. Fraser? Go up and change, I suppose?"
I nodded. "I'll just get rid of the shoes altogether for now."
"Allow me," he said, starting to bend over, and I quickly stopped him.
Somehow I couldn't let his hands on my feet, taking off my shoes, caressing... Oh no, I couldn't.
"Ah. Just let me lean on you a bit, shoes a bit tricky to take off."
"Of course, Mrs. Fraser."
I bent over to do as I said, holding my breath when I felt his hand closing on top of mine. I had rested my palm on his chest, carefully placing it on the spot that was covered by his open Sinbad shirt. But as seconds ticked by, I realized he was sliding both our hands slowly but certainly under the shirt, his chest bare and warm under my hand.
