Free The Sportin' Life by Nancy Frederick

there was a surge of heat in her loins that caused the nervous gesture, and I knew I felt the same way. I wanted to sit on the end of her bed and loosen her hair, remove her business suit until she wore nothing more than those luminous pearls and the smile that I would cause by making love to her until she begged me to stop.
    I never made so much as an improper remark, however, because decorum is essential. Holly typed all my correspondence, assembled all the complicated financial charts and typed them accurately without complaint. I signed or approved them with a nod of appreciation, and it was just as though we were nothing more than boss and secretary. Holly puzzled me, though, because she was awfully good at these menial tasks and she seemed too intelligent to work at such an unfulfilling job. Plus she dressed well, and I couldn ’ t imagine how she pulled it off on a temp ’ s salary.
    My interest in her grew steadily each day, and I have to say that it was a delicious experience. All that excitement building under the surface while we both pretended that it was business as usual was intensely arousing. It was almost better than an affair, because the stage of potential at the beginning is always more satisfying than the actual unfolding of the drama. The newness of starting out, the feeling of being explorers on a mission of passion is like no other. Of course eventually there has to be a climax. If I had been seeing someone else at this time, it would have been easier, because my excitement over and interest in Holly could have been allowed to build slowly while I had the other woman as an escape valve. To have one romance building while another wanes is always the most satisfying process. But I didn ’ t. All I had was my work, an occasional call from a realtor to view a house, which I would do only if I had the time, and an infrequent night out with Lou. Holly was the only woman in my life, and it was obvious that ultimately the fire we shared would have to erupt into flames and I looked forward to that time.
    Eventually we completed the project, and although I almost didn ’ t want to let go of the excitement of our daily unrequited passion, my glands cried out for some requitement. So early in the afternoon on Friday, Holly ’ s last day, I stopped by her desk and asked her to have dinner with me that night. She accepted. If she had said no, I think I would have retired right then from the mating game, but of course her interest was as great as my own.
    I waited for her in my car in front of the building, because neither of us wanted to be seen walking out together. She emerged, looking as fresh and pretty as ever and we sped off toward the Ventura Freeway. Never once did Holly question where we were going, sitting beside me cheerily participating in the conversation which was as casual as we both could make it. Now that we were alone together at last, it was as though we were both somehow preoccupied with our own thoughts. Mine were about getting to Santa Barbara, where I had reservde a room facing the ocean, one with a private Jacuzzi and twenty-four hour room service.
    The drive was pleasant, and as always awe-inspiringly beautiful. The last few miles along the ocean relaxed us both, and we drove silently, feeling the passion of the tumultuous Pacific that echoed our own response to each other. Eventually I pulled into the hotel lot, and for the first time reached over to kiss Holly. Her lips yielded sweetly to me and I knew that this was as right as it was going to get. We walked hand in had into the hotel and checked in as though it had been mutually prearranged.
    Holly responded to my every move like a dance partner. I closed the hotel door and pressed her body against it, feeling at last the length of her against me. She raised her lips to my kisses, let her hand linger on the sensitive spot at the back of my neck, traced the ridge of my teeth with her tongue. It was bliss and I began to think that I had