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“Wait. It’s all right,” I say, laughing and feeling lucky. “I have clothes in my backpack that ...”
“Everything in your backpack is wet and cold,” he says, and quickly takes off his gray Nike sweat jacket.
He’s so impressive. Every day he reminds me of that handsome Paul Walker.
“Here, put this on while I get some dry clothes from my room.”
He darts out of the office, and I can’t help laughing like some silly girl as my body finally starts to warm up. I’m once more subject to the Zimmerman Effect.
I’m being so very silly.
I’m totally lost in love.
And before I can even move, he’s back, carrying dry clothes and wearing a blue hoodie.
When he sees I haven’t taken off my wet clothes, he undresses me as Norah Jones’s “Turn Me On” plays in the background. God, I love that song!
Eric doesn’t stop looking at me. Feeling pampered, I try to tempt him with my eyes and my body. I want him. Now naked before him, I struggle with the gray sweat jacket he’s trying to pull down over my head. “Dance with me,” I tell him once I have the jacket on.
Shoeless and without underwear, I hold on to the man I adore and make him dance with me. All honeyed-up and feeling completely protected, I dance with him to this delightful, romantic song on the soft rug in front of the fireplace.
I love being in his arms, and I know he loves being in mine. Our feet move slowly on the rug, and our breathing fuses together. We dance in silence.
Once the song is over, we look at each other, and Eric leans down to give me a sweet kiss on the lips.
“Get dressed, Jude,” he says in a sensual voice.
I can’t explain how he makes me feel, and I smile even more when I see he’s brought me a pair of briefs.
“Oh ... it’s wonderful! And, Armani—sexy!”
Eric grins, gives me a little love pat on the ass, and hands me a pair of soft white socks. “Get dressed and stop trying to provoke me! Come on, sit down by the fire. I’ll go to the kitchen and get you something to eat.”
“There’s really no need, Eric ... really.”
“Oh yes there is, sweetheart,” he insists. “There is. Sit down and wait for me.”
Enchanted by both his happiness and mine, I do as he asks. He gives me a kiss and goes off.
Once I’m alone in the office, I look around. I open my drenched backpack, pull out a comb, and sit down on the rug to disentangle my wet hair. I’m struggling with it when Eric comes in with a tray. When he sees me, he puts the tray down on the desk.
“Here, give me the comb. I’ll do it for you.”
Like a little kid, I nod and let him comb my hair. Feeling his hands disentangling it so gently drives me crazy. It makes me shudder. He can be so tender sometimes that it seems impossible I could ever argue with him. Once finished, he gives me a kiss.
“The problem with your beautiful hair is solved. Now it’s time to eat.”
He stands up again, gets the tray from the desk, and brings it to the rug. He sits next to me and immediately and lovingly kisses my neck.
“You’re beautiful, sweetheart.”
His face, his words, the look in his eyes, everything about him, reveals how happy he is to have me here. The delicious steam from the broth reaches my nose, and I pick up the mug. Eric won’t stop looking at me as I drink from it.
“I really surprised you, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” he confesses, and pulls another lock of hair from my face. “You never stop surprising me.”
That makes me laugh.