Marji
My palms slide over the steering wheel and my heart beats wildly, sending my circulation racing as I fight to move forward and pull my car up to Lace and Leather.
The saying nervous wreck comes to mind. That's exactly what I am.
Last week I had no idea what I would find at Lace and Leather and yet, tonight with many ideas racing through my mind, I'm even more nervous.
I look down at my lap; the lingerie Mr. Santana sent is hidden below the thick satin cape. My hands are extended through openings on each side trying to maintain their grasp of the wheel as my high-heeled shoe presses on the brake. The cape covers me completely to mid-calf, yet it doesn't latch except for one button near the neck.
Once the shock of the attire settled, I worried about the twenty-five-minute driv
