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“Would you like to have a good time with me next door, in the other room?” I turn three different shades of red. When she notices, Marisa smiles. “If you change your mind, let me know, all right?”
She winks at me as she walks away, and I move toward Eric. When he sees me, he gives me a kiss on the lips and continues his conversation with the couple he’s been talking to.
There’s a hosted buffet, and the guests soon begin to enjoy the tasty feast. I feel men’s eyes on me, but also those of many women. And when I see how many women are looking at Eric, I get irritated. My possessive instincts are sharp tonight. Finally, Eric notices what’s happening, and he calms me by reminding me where we are. Still, women keep coming near us, drinking him in, and the ferocious feline in me keeps trying to break out of her cage.
Eric excuses himself, takes me by the arm, and walks us over to a window. Once we’re alone, he kisses me on the mouth.
“The rash on your neck is giving you away. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
Without realizing it, I go to scratch, but Eric grabs my arm and blows on my neck.
“No. If you scratch, it will get worse.”
That makes me smile. I remember what I heard in the bathroom, and I’m about to ask him about it, when he gets ahead of me.
“Listen, hon, these people and I have known one another for many years. Relax.”
When I look over at the women, I feel like they’re watching us. Just then, Eric’s cell buzzes, and once more, I see the nameBettaon the screen. It is now the umpteenth time I’ve seen the same name.
“Who is Betta?”
Eric puts the phone away.
“Someone from my past. Nothing important.”
I take a swallow from my glass. I want to ask about this woman, but instead, I change the subject.
“When I was in the bathroom, I heard some women talking about you.”
“Oh yeah? I hope they were saying good and exciting things,” he says playfully.
He makes a sly face, and I open my eyes wide.
“Dickhead.”
“Baby ... those are women from years ago,” he whispers as he caresses my back.
“They were saying something about you looking like you’ve recovered.”
He tenses up. His hand on my back comes to a stop.
“I’m not especially interested in the gossip in women’s bathrooms.”
“Me neither, smart ass,” I say. “But when I heard that, I thought maybe ...”
Eric cuts me off with a brusque move that betrays his discomfort.
“I just said I’m not interested in what’s talked about in the women’s bathroom.”
His frigid response leaves me mute. He’s cut off all possibility of discussing the subject, just like he always does when something personal comes up. In the end, what I want is to have a good time, so I press up against him.
“I really don’t like how some of the women are looking at you.”
He takes a drink and turns back to me.
“Have you noticed how the men are looking at you?” I nod. “The difference between them is the women want me to undress them, and the men want to undress you. The women want me to give them pleasure, and the men want to give it to you. Don’t you think I should be considerably more bothered?”