Her hands were holding my arms. I paused and looked at her face, she was ready.Went in and kissed her chin, cheeks and ear lobes. She made a low noise... It was time to feel those lips against mine, aaahhh yes perfect, sweet taste of heaven, it was soft moist with a nervous tongue trying to find its way. It was time for me to make that satisfying noise. My hands were around her trying to get her closer; her hands were around my neck enjoying the moment. We stopped after a minute; my hands were. The third floor was mine. Weekdays I was Aileen Reilly, a woman who lived off a trust fund that had been liquidated before I learned to walk, but no one knew that. My brother and my neighbors thought I did charity work. I’d leave the house in a tasteful skirt suit with a briefcase and drive to a small safe house, one of three I kept around the city. There I’d change into my street clothes, lose the glasses and heels, put on the boots and tie the hair back. I’d lose the SUV and take a junker to. More

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