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I need to get some sleep, but my subconscious betrays me.
I dream, and in my dark wet dream, Eric kisses me as he opens my legs to let another man penetrate me. I raise my hips, wanting greater depth, and the man, whose face I can’t see, picks up the pace, thrusting in and out of me, until he can’t take it anymore and comes. I’m panting and pleading for more. The stranger releases me, and Eric, my kinky, sexy, and captivating Iceman, takes his place.
He touches my thighs ... oh yes!
He parts my legs ... yes!
He forces me to look at him and says in that solemn voice of his, “Tell me what you want.” And before I can answer, my love drives into me, hot and sure, going right through me and making me scream, “Eric!”
Only he can give me what I really need.
Only he knows what I really like.
He buries himself in me over and over, driving me crazy. I scream and grab at his back until he takes me to the sweetest, most marvelous and devastating of orgasms.
I wake up, startled. I’m alone in my bed, sweating, and well aware of my dream. I don’t know if I’ll be able to continue enforcing this sexual abstinence; I need Eric, and I’m dying to be in his arms.
9
I leap from my bed at five to ten the next morning. Eric is an early riser, and I don’t want to seem like a hibernating bear. I take a quick shower, and, after putting on a casual black wool dress with high boots, I make my way to the kitchen. Eric is seated at a round table, reading a newspaper.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he says, but he’s not smiling.
Simona is cooking and greets me. I’ve definitely come off like a hibernating bear.
“Good morning,” I respond.
Eric makes no effort to get up. That strikes me as odd, but I try to control my instincts and hide the bitter embarrassment of not getting a good-morning kiss.
Simona offers me cold cuts, but I shake my head and ask only for coffee, so she nudges me to sit at the table next to Eric.
“Did you sleep well?” he inquires.
I nod and try to forget my wet dream. If he only knew ...
Two minutes later, Simona leaves a steaming coffee with cream on the table and a good-sized piece of plum cake. I’m hungry and take a huge bite.
“Mmm, it’s so good, Simona!” I say as soon as I taste the butter and vanilla.
Delighted, she nods and leaves as I continue with my breakfast. Eric isn’t speaking; he only watches me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask when I can’t take it anymore. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Still not smiling, he leans back in his chair.
“I still can’t believe you’re sitting in my kitchen.” But before I can say anything, he changes the subject by adding, “When you’re finished, we’ll go to my mother’s. I need to pick up Flyn. I have something to do afterward, a basketball game.”
“You play basketball?” I ask, surprised.
“Yes.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“With whom?”
“With some friends.”