Chapter 2
She stood, listening to the sounds of Harry exiting from the office. When she heard the outer door slam shut behind him, she turned and moved toward the window. She looked down and saw now, with a tinge of disappointment, that the light was out in the window of the hotel across the street where all the action had been visible before. She wondered for a moment, whether the two girls had left the room or if they were now curled up in the bed together, under the covers, perhaps renewing their strength for another passionate session, later. A sudden warmth flowed through her loins, remembering the things she had seen over there and her tumultuous surrender, later, to Harry Fields. Then. Surrender, hell, she thought, it had been more like an attack.
She felt a flash of shame, now, too, remembering that part of it and apprehension. What kind of a woman was she to be able to give herself so completely, on the spur of the moment to a man she cared absolutely nothing about, really? And that was true. She'd never given Harry Fields a second look before. He'd been just another employee, a fairly nice guy. Sure, he was attractive, she supposed, to a lot of women, but he'd never struck her that way, before. He didn't now, looking back at what had happened.
She realized that it had just been incidental that the man had been Harry Fields. It could have been any man at that moment, some hulking, sweating ape of a stevedore, even. It wouldn't have mattered. There had been anuncontrollable animal desire in her that demanded instant satisfaction. She had heard that it was that way with men, when they were what is commonly referred to as "hard-up" but she'd never known a woman could get that way. Apparently though, that was what had happened to her. After she'd become so inflamed by the lustful scene she'd witnessed in the hotel across the street.
She wondered, now, if she would have trouble with Harry Fields over the incident. Certainly, he'd been meek and understanding, enough when he'd left. But perhaps that was because he was still overwhelmed by her behavior. Perhaps later, when he thought about it, he would figure he'd latched onto a real good thing. He would undoubtedly want more. If nothing else, it would be awkward, fending him off. If he tried to use the incident as a hold over her, to force her to continue but that was ridiculous. What could he prove? It would be strictly her word against his. And who would believe him? She knew that she had a reputation among all the men she knew, as a cold potato. Harry, himself, had even thought of her as that.
Finally, she dismissed the incident from her mind. She told herself that it had just been a freak thing. It wouldn't happen again; she wouldn't let it. And that was all there was to it. Now, she was going home and going to bed for a good night's sleep, because she had a busy day tomorrow.
As she put out the light in her private office, she glanced toward the couch and a hot wave of sensation glided over her, momentarily, as she thought: God, but it was good, though, so damned good!