Fire In His Eyes (Secrets & Seduction #1)(25)

He called me every night! On the weekend, too. It was always a little after ten, but never later than eleven. So, he must not be staying out too late. We never talked about what he did that day, and he never mentioned the people he spent his time with. We mostly talked about shows we watched. He loved the show Friends, loved that my name was Monica because she was his favorite character. I laughed at that, and told him I used to be fat, too. He didn’t believe me at first. He was upset because the series was coming to an end, in a few weeks. There were no other shows he followed religiously. He was shocked when I described to him why I had been fat, and I explained to him what had happened to me. He made the right remarks about it, outrage, and anger at the violence of rape. He was angry that it had happened to me, when a woman said no, a real man had to respect that. It warmed me to hear him say so. I even told him about Dan, and how little experience I had. He told me he thought he would like Dan. He seemed like a great friend and asked if we kept in touch since he had moved to California. I told him we just exchanged dirty jokes and kept in touch on the internet through email once or twice a month; he had left over a year ago. He had been a friend of my sister’s and she had introduced us. Dan had been a safe and comfortable friend, I explained, and we had only dated casually with the understanding that either one of us could move on if we met someone we loved.

Victor shared simple things about his life. He liked news programs and took an avid interest in politics, and he absolutely loved the History Channel. He liked movies, but not theatre prices so he waited for them to come out on DVD. He told me about some of his army buddies, and the people living in his building. He never talked about his family though or the people he worked with in construction. It bothered me that he wouldn’t share the more personal stuff. When he did talk about his new job, I felt he didn’t like it that much. When I asked him why he did it when it seemed obvious to me he didn’t enjoy the work of a contractor, he was honest and told me the money was better than what he had earned in the military. I told him money wasn’t everything, and he simply remarked that it helped. It sounded kind of cryptic when he said it too, but I didn’t want to make an issue out of it. I loved my job, and couldn’t imagine going to work every day if I didn’t love it.

It was nice. Each evening he would call me and we would talk for an hour or so, and then we would say good night. The next three weeks, were great. It was hard just seeing him once a week, but the talks were nice and kept me from missing him too much. I looked forward to those calls. I called him a couple of times, too, usually earlier, he hardly answered when I did, but usually returned the call within a half an hour or so. Those calls were not as satisfying as the ones in the evening, but nice still. He was usually busy, working late, or at a family obligation of some sort when I called, but he made time to listen to me tell him a story about something that happened at work, or something I saw on the news and wanted to hear his thoughts on the matter.

Thursdays were great. It was now the day of the week I looked forward to most. I went the first week to his and Kat’s apartment, we went for coffee, his place to freshen up and talk, and later we hung out with friends of his in a local beer joint. It was called The Honky Tonk, and had a homey atmosphere. As soon as you walked in there were two pool tables, and behind that and all across the back corner was the bar and bartender. There were ten or so high stools and ten to twelve tables between the bar and the pool tables. At the far end of the bar there was a small wooden dance floor, a DJ, and a Karaoke machine. I got a little tipsy on Coronas that night, and Kat made me sing Karaoke with her to the song Proud to be An American by Lee Greenwood. I can’t sing at all, not a bit, so I must have been a little more than tipsy to agree to it, but it was fun. Victor laughed and smiled and encouraged me mouthing the lyrics when I didn’t know the words. We played a game of pool against another couple, and actually won. It was fun. We left a bit after midnight, and had a little bite to eat before we went back to his place. That night, we made love the old fashioned way. It was sweet and I still saw stars. Victor was tender, and took his time with me that night. It was the best sex I had had with him so far, and that was saying a lot. It was special because he kept whispering endearments, telling me I was special, and beautiful, and that he loved my eyes.

It had been a teacher work day the next day, so I called in sick the night before. I wasn’t really needed with no kids there so I was able to sleep in. When I woke up Victor was gone, but there was a note on my pillow. It read;

Last night was fun. I enjoyed your company. You can’t sing! But, the sex was great, as usual. I’ll call you tonight. Drive home safely.

-V.

I kept the note.

The calls continued every night the following week, and he came to me on the next Thursday, and also the Wednesday after that. I had promised to chaperone the prom months earlier and didn’t want to break my promise, so he switched his plans to Thursday so he could see me on Wednesday. Both of the nights were memorable.

On the Thursday, I wore nothing but a leather jacket, a pair of black silk panties, and a pair of high heeled thigh high boots. His eyes popped out of his head when I answered the door. When he left in the morning I slipped the panties into his pocket when I kissed him goodbye. He texted me at two in the afternoon to thank me for my little gift, and said he was smelling them right now, and that they smelled great. He promised to sleep with them all week until I gave him another pair.