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The story starts just minutes after the phone rings bringing Eva out of an intense sexual daydream (see Spirit of Love).

The whirring of Malcolm's wheelchair alerted me that I was no longer alone. Adjusting my expression, keeping my thoughts hidden, I turned and smiled at him. Malcolm was older than me by 10 years. We had met 5 years ago at a party. There had been - and would still be if things were different - an explosive sexual chemistry between us right from the start. Before the accident he stood 6'3" tall and weighed about 200lbs - a strong muscular man who, was very sure of his appeal. I had taken one look into those steel gray eyes of his and had been lost. Passion's fire had flared between us but I attempted to remain aloof from it. Reluctant to get involved too quickly with someone I had just met I had been careful to leave with others at the party's end.

For the next two days I eroded myself with anxiety, wondering if he would call. I gathered the nerve to look him up in phonebook. Then I vacillated, going to phone, dialing the number and hanging up before finishing. I drove myself crazy. Each time I picked up the phone to call I would feel my body react. My nipples would harden, I would moisten between my thighs and my legs would shake. We had only spoken a few words, his heavy with innuendos, mine witty yet cautious. We had flirted with our eyes, gray with blue, all evening making promises I was actually afraid to keep. Finally, I dialed the whole number. At the sound of his recorded voice I slammed the phone down and decided to ...

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