Bring On the Heat

by Eden Bradley

  Apartment four caught her attention. Surprised that the perky blonde was attracted to her, she put the key in a pile marked maybe. Though she got at least one female applicant every month this was the first time number four had applied.

  If he didn’t apply would she actually pick someone this time? Saving herself for someone who might not be interested in her seemed more ridiculous with each month his key didn’t appear in the bowl.

  She leaned back on the bed and studied the pile of keys. They fell in such a way that she could only see the first two for sure. The ones underneath would remain a mystery until she spread them out. Every month her hopes crashed when his key didn’t show up. Every month she worked herself up into such a sexual state she finished the laundry in record time then spent the rest of the day fantasizing about him while pleasuring herself.

  She grabbed the grocery list she had on the night stand and added batteries to the bottom. Almost time to leave, she turned her attention back to the keys and the choice at hand. The regulars were there. Number twelve applied every laundry day. A twinge of guilt made her put his key in the maybe pile.

  She had no intention of sleeping with anyone in her apartment complex except Declan. If she was a stronger person she would just ask him out. But what if he said no? She didn’t want that kind of rejection. Rejection is never fun. At least this way she could delude herself into thinking he was busy, wasn’t into walking around naked all day, couldn’t have sex because he was in training for something. Not that he wasn’t interested in her.

  She took a deep breath, put her hand on top of the pile and pushed the keys out. On the bottom of the pile the corner of a number caught her eye. She moved the key on top of it, her heart racing. Number ten.

  She bounced up and down on the bed. Keys danced on the bedspread, jangled and clunked to the floor. In her excitement she almost toppled over the side herself. She stopped her happy ball impression as her mind raced with errands to run, things to buy before tomorrow. Laundry day had never been what she wanted it to be until now so she had to make sure it was perfect.

  She grabbed the grocery list again. With the day she had planned for them they would need sustenance. Under whipped cream, cherries, chocolate syrup she wrote down wine, crossed it off then wrote it down again. Alcohol might fuzzy the waters and she wanted to remember every second of the day. She crossed it off again and wrote sports drinks. For good measure she added some real food too. Junk food alone would not sustain them.

  Panic set in when she realized the longest conversation they’d had was three sentences on a thirty second elevator ride when she’d been going to his floor to fix a tenant’s toilet. At least the meet up hadn’t been on her way back down, when she’d been soaked because she’d neglected to turn off the water first. Sure, she’d spied on him. Stalked him on social media and grilled people he knew about what he liked, without them realizing they were being grilled. But they’d never actually had a conversation worth remembering.

  If things worked out they could always play strip poker. For laundry day though she would hold all the cards, and the clothes. She shoved thoughts of conversation aside, instead filling her mind with images of them writhing on the bed, sweat soaked and satisfied. Already turned on, she wanted to find release. Wanted to use her favorite vibrator, feel it pulse inside her. Wanted to tease her clit with the speed on full until she couldn’t take it anymore. But she would rather save that pent up sexual energy for Declan.

  With a sigh she grabbed an envelope from her night stand drawer, put his key inside, placed her spare key beside his, licked the seal and pressed it closed. Tonight was his weekly poker game. Thankfully, they rotated the games and this evening they were in apartment sixty. Being caught in the act of giving him his key back with hers nestled beside it would mortify her. True, the tenants thought she did this every month. What would they think if they found out this was the first time she’d actually picked someone?

  Antsy now, she jumped off the bed and paced the bedroom. Looking down at her dark blue jogging pants she frowned. On the off chance she might get caught in the act she had to at least look presentable. Plus she needed to get some shopping done. Tomorrow would be a full day with no time to nip out to the store.

  She jumped in the shower and turned the taps to cool, letting water sluice over her breasts. With slow, deliberate movements she lathered first one then the other. She squeezed them together, teased the nipple of her right breast. The sensation shot a throbbing pulse to her clit. Wet, and not from the water, she trailed a finger down her stomach, inserted first one then two fingers inside herself. She spread her fingers and pushed them in farther. Her vagina throbbing for release, she pulled the shower head down, changed the setting to pulsate and positioned it between her legs. To torture herself more, she brought the shower head closer, moved it way, brought it closer again until her knees almost buckled. She steadied herself against the wall.

  When she was close to coming, she put the shower head back and turned the stream back to a normal pressure that felt like soft rain against her heated flesh. She turned the hot water down a little more, sped through washing and rinsing the rest of her body. If she stayed in the shower any longer the desire for release would win. Though she didn’t want to come as soon as he touched her, she didn’t want to take forever either. Working herself into a frenzy today and tomorrow before he got there should help her come with him, she hoped.

  What if he shot first and asked questions later she thought as she got out of the shower. Premature ejaculation would ruin every fantasy she’d ever had about him. There was still time to change her mind. No one knew she never picked anyone. She could keep on not picking anyone. Take her key out of the envelope and return the envelope to him with just his key like she did every month with the people who applied.

  She called up an image of him in her mind. Twinkling green eyes. Ebony hair. An ass she could bounce a coin off of. Muscled thighs that left her mouth dry. Corded arms. She wanted to see them bunch with effort as he drove into her. Putting the pressure on him to live up to her fantasy wasn’t fair. With a body like that and a willingness to be around her naked all day, she could take control of the pleasure.

  Possibilities ran through her mind leaving her breathless and ready to reach for her vibrator. She stopped herself. There was too much to do to indulge in pleasuring herself. With luck and a little chemistry she would get plenty of pleasure tomorrow.

  Back in her bedroom, she pulled out a crisp pair of jeans, a flowing blouse and lacy undergarments. Her pedicure from three weeks ago still intact, she shoved her bare feet into chunky sandals. A swipe of lip gloss and dash of mascara and she was ready. Hummingbirds flitted around her stomach as she shoved the grocery list in her purse then dashed out the door.

  ~ * ~

  Declan McLean watched the other three men at the table. Matt played with his chips. Grant smiled to himself and played with his drink. Jack grabbed his third handful of peanuts from the dish to his right. One of these days he would tell them about their tells. But not tonight.

  “I’m all in.” He shoved his remaining chips into the center of the green felt table.

  Matt grumbled, peered at his cards and then tossed them onto the table. Grant eyed him for a moment then followed Matt’s lead. Jack didn’t look at his cards, just shoved them away. Declan smothered a grin as he pulled his winnings to his side of the table. Once in a while to keep things interesting he let them win but tonight impatience for the game to end fueled him. With a few more hands to play, knowing their tells let him control how long each hand lasted. He could be out of here before midnight if he played his cards right. He grinned at his own joke then grabbed the cards to begin his shuffle.

  “Who do you think she’ll pick this month?” Matt asked.

  Grant pulled his cards towards him shaking his head. “I know it won’t be me. It’s never me.”

  “I think she’ll pick the cute blonde in apartment four,” Jack said, tossing chips into t
he pot.

  He loved his friends but they weren’t a very observant bunch. Since moving into Keyes Manor he’d studied her, especially when he found out about her special monthly laundry day game. He wasn’t security for the building for nothing. Maybe she forgot she had cameras in all the hallways, lobby, laundry room, boiler room, basement. Or maybe she wanted him to know she never picked anyone. That the notion there was a game was just a game. Every month he reviewed the tapes to see who showed up at her door on Saturday, one sharp. Every month no one was there. Unless she was fucking a ghost.

  “I think we’ll never know. She swears them to secrecy,” he said.

  More chips landed in the pot. He dealt two cards to Matt, three cards to Grant. Jack waved him off. To keep up appearances he took two cards. A fresh full bowl of peanuts told him Jack had a good hand this time. When the bet came back to him he folded and let the others fight it out. After some back and forth betting between Matt and Jack, Grant wisely folded when the bet got to a hundred dollars, Jack revealed his flush.

  “Shit! I was sure I had you,” Matt said.

  Declan held in a chuckle. They’d been playing poker together for a year, since he’d moved into the apartment complex. It had never occurred to the others to watch for tells, signs any of them were bluffing. Suspicious in nature, reading people was automatic for him. Private security depended on him being right, sizing people up accurately and quickly. Before that first game had ended he’d nailed down their tells. It made the games less exciting but more profitable for him.

  His thoughts shifted back to Carmela. By all accounts everyone in the building had applied to play her laundry day game at least once. Except him. Until this month. Six months was too long to go without a good lay. Every time some hottie in a tight skirt threw herself at him he made excuses why he couldn’t. Early day in the morning. Getting over a cold. Nursing a sick friend. Because every time a woman flashed a smile at him all he could think about was Carmela. Her rich auburn hair kissing her shoulders. Her hazel eyes. The way her hips swayed when she walked away from him.

  Since finding out about her game he’d been dying to dip his foot into her deep end. But though he lived in a swingers’ complex he didn’t like to share. Key parties were fun. He’d played before in his younger days, but he wanted more. Now that he was sure no one else had actually played her game he was ready to move in, so to speak. If things went as planned he would convince her to play laundry day only with him.

  He coasted through the next few hands then pushed away from the table. “Time for me to bail.”

  “Come on, man. Give us a chance to win back some of our losses,” Matt said.

  Declan chuckled. “No matter how long we play you won’t win it back.”

  “He wants to get a good sleep,” Grant said. “He’s hoping Carmela picked him.”

  He gave his friend a stunned look.

  “We’ve all seen the way you look at her. It was just a matter of time before you applied to play,” Jack said.

  He’d have to work on his poker face a little more. But they were right. If she did pick him he needed to be well rested. And he needed to gather his laundry.

  ~ * ~

  Carmela positioned the key bowl on the table in the middle of the common room. Would anyone notice that the room wasn’t decorated as well as it usually was for key party Saturday? Now that she had her own personal party to attend to, she had less time on her hands than she’d anticipated. At least all the candles were lit and the lights lowered. The speakers filled the room with seductive beats. She arranged platters of appetizers on the counter in front of the back wall.

  When she’d started the key parties she’d had the picking of partners start at noon so that everyone had plenty of time for fun and left the complex quiet on Saturday afternoon. Sometimes the blissful silence lasted well into the evening. With a hundred units in the complex, Saturday afternoons could get very loud. She’d had no idea that owning an apartment complex would leave her with Saturdays crammed full of duties, where she’d have no time for herself unless she could find a way to occupy most of the tenants.

  Keyes Manor had always been an adults only complex. The couple she’d bought the place from two years ago had implemented that requirement upon taking over the seven building complex. She’d added a singles only policy and started the key parties after complaining to her best friend about having no time for herself on the weekends.

  Satisfied with the room, she swung the double doors open, a smile curling her lips at the line-up. Tenants hurried past her, some nodding hello, others focused on the bowl in the middle of the room. Clinks and plunks filled the room as people dropped their keys in the bowl. When the bowl was full people milled about, nibbling on food and sipping drinks.

  “Welcome to the weekly Keyes Manor key party!”

  A round of applause bounced off the walls.

  “Most of you have done this before. For you newbies, the rules are simple. You drop in your key, someone picks it, you decide whose apartment to retire to and you have fun. For those wanting a threesome you drop in two keys marked with a ribbon.”

  Most people paired up. Occasionally there was a stray key left. Her heart broke for those people. But there was never a guarantee that an equal number of people would participate every week. Attending the key parties was not a requirement for tenants though most participated.

  “Have fun, everyone. And remember as landlord my office is closed until tomorrow morning at eight.”

  Anxious to get to her apartment, she didn’t stick around to see who paired up with whom. She was confident her friend would include all the goings on in the weekly newsletter. She raced down the hall to her apartment. One bonus to owning the complex was she could pick the perfect unit for herself. The corner unit with the second floor was unique in the complex, giving her the feel of a house because she had her bedroom on the second floor. The downside was she had a lot more to keep clean.

  After dropping her purse on the entry way table, she raced through the apartment swiping wood surfaces with dust cloths, sweeping hardwood floors, scouring the sinks. She spritzed a cinnamon scented air deodorizer into the filling the room. For a final touch she lit pumpkin pie scented candles throughout the main floor. If the research was right those two scents would turn him on the most. Why rely solely on her womanly wiles when she had science and olfactory senses on her side?

  She hurried upstairs, had a quick shower then threw on her robe. Back downstairs, she waited, her heart racing, as the minutes ticked by. Next time she would give herself more time and tell him to be there at two instead of one. If there was a next time. What if he didn’t apply again? She shoved those thoughts out of her mind, took a deep breath.

  At one sharp a knock sounded on her door. She jumped up, smoothed her robe, plastered a smile on her face and opened the door.

  His hair was shorter than it had been the day before. Her stomach flipped. He perused her from head to toe, her skin growing warm everywhere his gaze touched. The thought of his hands following the same path made her wet. In front of him he held a basket full of dirty laundry.

  “You look amazing,” he said.

  She stepped aside. “So do you. You can put that on the floor for now.” She pointed to a spot beside the door.

  “You’re wearing a robe.”

  The disappointment in his voice brought a smile to her lips. “I couldn’t answer the door naked.”

  “True. What happens now?”

  Why was this so awkward? This was her fantasy, one she’d thought about for at least a year. As soon as she’d approved his application to be a tenant all she’d thought about was laundry day with him. Originally intended as a day to herself, the second he’d stepped into her office she’d pictured him sorting laundry naked. While the tenants liked the random aspect of the key parties she wanted more control. The only control she’d never had was Declan applying to play with her.

  “We get naked and do laundry. I watch you get undress
ed before I ditch the robe. Are you okay with that?”

  Relief washed through her when he nodded. He took her hand and walked her over to the sofa. She settled into the cushions and waited.

  “Should I have music?”

  She chuckled. “Only if you want some. I have dance tunes around here somewhere.”

  “I think I can manage without it.”

  He started with his t-shirt, whisking it over his head. With a deft move he tossed the shirt into his basket by the door. The fleeting thought that he must play basketball zipped through her mind. She would have to find out where he played so she could watch him tear up the court. Washboard abs, broad shoulders, corded muscles made her mouth go dry. Despite the complex having a pool Declan never used it unless he used it when she wasn’t around.

  Instead of taking off his jeans, he pulled off his socks. She groaned.

  “Impatient?” he asked.

  There was no use beating around the bush. She’d picked him to have sex with. They both knew what the day would entail. “Yes. I’ve been wanting to see you without your pants on for a while now.”

  He flicked the button of his jeans open. “Really? How long?”

  She swallowed. How honest should she be? “Since last Christmas when Sheri cornered you under the mistletoe in the common room.”

  “Interesting. I’ve wanted to see you without your pants on since I applied to be a tenant.” The rasp of his zipper propelled a shiver through her.

  “You never applied for laundry day before.” She hoped her tone sounded casual and not accusatory.

  “I’m an old fashioned guy. I wanted to make sure I didn’t have to share you.”

  “What makes you think you won’t have to share me?” It took every ounce of will power not to squirm.

  “Carm, I’m chief of security for the complex. You have security cameras almost everywhere.”