Читать книгу Take Me To Bed - Joan Elizabeth Lloyd - Страница 12

“Try the cheese with the sauterne,” Eric said. He cut off a bit of pear, spread a small amount of cheese on the morsel and held it in front of Jessica’s mouth. She ate from his fingers and he quickly handed her the wine. “Close your eyes and drink this so the tastes are in your mouth at the same time.”

When she had sipped the thick, deep yellow liquid, he asked, “What do you taste?”

“Cream and pear and…pineapples.” She opened her eyes, amazed.

He took a bite of pear and cheese, then sipped his own wine. “Pineapples. Wonderful. A few years ago, someone introduced me to the combination of sauterne and blue-veined cheese. There’s a strange synergy. The whole taste is so much more than the sum of its parts.” He spread another bit of cheese on another piece of fruit and offered it to Jessica.

She took it from him, placed it on her tongue, and sipped the sauterne. “It is wonderful, but if I have much more to drink, I’ll be incoherent.” She dropped onto her back on the soft blanket.

Eric took the glass from her hand. “I certainly don’t want you incoherent. I want you to be fully aware of everything that happens.”

“And what is going to happen?” Jessica asked, the words out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Eric grinned and licked a tiny crumb of cheese from her lower lip. “Everything and nothing.”

“What does that mean?”

“Everything means that I’m going to spend the rest of the evening seducing you with wine and food, music and evening breezes and me.”

“And nothing?”

“Nothing means that as much as I want to, and, I hope, as much as you will want me to, I’m not going to make love to you tonight.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want you to anticipate how wonderful it will be with us when I undress you and touch you and lick every inch of your skin. I want you to wonder how it will feel when I slide, ever so slowly, into your body and feel your hips reaching for me, unable to wait any longer.

“Then I want you to think about it in the cold, sober light of day. Sex for the sake of sex. Not love, just desire. Then you can decide whether that is truly what you want.”

Jessica sighed and closed her eyes. Her thighs were trembling and her heart was pounding. She did want him. Badly. She felt a tickling on her neck and reached up to brush it away. As her hand dropped she felt the tickling again. She slowly opened her eyes and saw Eric, his face close to hers, a blade of grass in his hand. “I know what I want right now,” she whispered, unable to stop the words.

“Maybe you do. But I know what we’re not going to do. It’s important to me that we don’t make love because of too much wine or too long since the last time.” He saw the disappointment on Jessica’s face. “Oh lord,” he said, smiling. “This is going to be a long and singularly frustrating evening.” He tossed the grass aside and sat up. “I owe you an explanation. About Timmy and all.”

Jessica sighed and partially shook off the cloud of desire that surrounded her. She sat up and poured herself a cup of steaming coffee. She looked at him and lifted a cup. When he shook his head, she put the decanter down and added milk to her coffee. “Okay. Tell me.”

“Marilyn, my ex-wife, must be, in some ways, the unluckiest woman in the world. When we split, I was, as you put it, a humble architect. I made eighty thousand a year, a nice salary but not enough for her, so she went looking for greener pastures. Maybe there was a deeper reason. But money seemed to be all she thought about.”

“Don’t tell me you won the lottery or something.”

“Let me give you a little background.” He sipped his sauterne and watched the people wandering past them. In the far distance he could hear the sensual sound of a clarinet tuning up. “My father took off when I was seven. I think my mother was glad to see him go although it meant that she had to work. He was a heavy drinker, a gambler, a womanizer, and a general pain in the ass. He was never abusive, or anything like that. It was just that he was totally unpredictable. Rich and expansive one minute, poor and depressive the next. He wouldn’t come home for days, even weeks at a time. Then he’d arrive home like the prodigal son, frequently reeking of perfume. Of course, at the time, I idolized him, thought he was the greatest, especially when he arrived with his arms full of presents.”

“It must have been a tough life for you.”

“My mom was a very sane, down-to-earth woman and I was a very happy child in spite of my on-again, off-again father.”

Jessica smiled. “You were lucky.”

“I guess I was. One evening, my dad arrived home after almost two weeks, and told my mom that he was leaving for good. He packed his things in an old black-and-white suitcase and disappeared. My mom cried for about a week, then pulled herself together and made a good life for herself. She had worked in a local nursing home as an aide and discovered that she enjoyed helping older people. So she put herself through nursing school, then made enough to put me through college. She died the year after I graduated.”

“She sounds like a nice woman.”

Eric’s face softened. “She was the best. Anyway, about a year after Marilyn and I split, I received a visit from a lawyer. My father, it turns out, had done okay for himself. He’d ended up in Vegas and amassed a small fortune. Before he died, he had a will drawn up leaving everything to me. There was a letter from him for me, too. He tried to explain that although he didn’t consider himself a bad man, he had been a terrible husband and a worse father and that we had been better off without him. He said that he had spent a lot of years broke and then started a run of luck and had gotten some money together. He hired an investigator who learned that my mom had died and that I was doing very well on my own.” Eric ran his long slender fingers through his iron-gray hair.

“Personally, I think he didn’t contact me then because we had almost nothing in common except some genetic material. I don’t remember him as a bad father, but that’s the way he thought about things. I’m just sorry that my mother didn’t live to know that he still thought about us. Anyway, I inherited everything. Including Timmy.”

“Including Timmy?”

“He was my father’s bodyguard, and, I gather, he needed one. He was in some pretty ugly businesses with some pretty nasty people. My father won Timmy, who had spent a few years as a professional wrestler, in a poker game almost ten years before he died. His old manager put up his contract in lieu of five thousand dollars. Fortunately for both my father and Timmy, the manager’s full boat, aces over sixes, wasn’t as good as my father’s four deuces.

“Timmy’s a gem and a thoroughly nice man. He was unquestionably loyal and able to take care of himself and my father, particularly in my dad’s final months which, I gather, were lousy. Timmy won’t talk about those years and the things my father was into. He says it’s a closed book now that he’s dead. And I guess it is.”

“How could he leave Timmy to you?” Jessica asked. “It sounds like some kind of indentured servitude.”

“Not at all. My father got to know Timmy very well. Although he left him a generous amount of cash in his will, my father left Timmy something more important. One section of the will guarantees him a job with me for as long as he wants. And that’s all he wants. I guess he’s like my mom. He wants to take care of someone the way he took care of my father, and he stays because he wants to. He keeps the money my dad left him in the bank. ‘For his old age,’ he says.”

“Your dad sound like a very perceptive man.”

“He was.”

“And Timmy’s cooking?”

“That had been a hobby of his for many years. He used to cook for my father, who taught Timmy to enjoy fine food and good wine. After my father’s death, Timmy told me that he had always wanted to study seriously so I encouraged him to take a year to study at the Culinary Institute. Now, as you’ve gathered, it’s more than just a hobby—it’s a passion.”

“That’s quite a story.”

Distant strains of jazz filtered through the evening air. “The music’s starting,” Eric said, stretching out on the blanket. “They discourage listening from here rather than going to the terrace, but I bought six tickets and made a special plea to the staff so they’ll leave us alone.”

Jessica stretched out beside Eric, her head buzzing with the wine and the music and the feel of Eric’s fingers entwined with hers. Together they watched the sky darken and the stars appear while they listened to an erotic baritone saxophone. From time to time, Eric would lift Jessica’s hand to his lips and kiss her knuckles, or nip one fingertip. As the first half of the concert ended, he sucked her index finger into his hot mouth and swirled his tongue around the tip.

To calm her fluttering stomach, she said, “With this inheritance of yours, do you still design buildings?”

He chuckled. “Getting too hot for you?” He sucked her finger again, then answered, “Sure. I like to be productive and I don’t know what else I’d do. I do one or two projects each year, overall design, not the bathroom fixtures or landscaping. I keep my job within strict limits. I never take on a project that will occupy more time than I want to give, leaving the rest of my time for the parts of my life that give me joy.” He bit the tip of Jessica’s finger, then swirled his tongue around the palm. “How about you? What was your family life like as a kid?”

Jessica struggled to concentrate enough to answer his question. “Dull. I was born and brought up in Ottawa, Illinois, a small town near Chicago. Steph and I went to high school together and that’s where she met Brian and I met Rob, my ex-husband.”

Jessica tried to gently withdraw her hand from Eric’s but he held her fast. “Tell me about him. He must be some kind of idiot to let something as gorgeous and sexy as you get away.”

“I don’t mean to make him sound like a total jerk,” Jessica said, finally pulling her hand away from Eric. “We met in high school and he knew precisely what he wanted out of life, so it happened. Dental school and a very busy practice in Ottawa.”

When Eric took her hand again she sighed and didn’t try to pull away. “I gathered from your conversation Tuesday night that you and he weren’t setting the world on fire in the bedroom.”

Jessica laughed softly. “No, we weren’t. Most of our problems in bed were probably due to inexperience. We were both virgins or close enough for government work when we met and there never was anyone else for either of us. Not until bimbo.”

“He found a sweet young thing?”

Jessica told him about finding Rob in his office that afternoon so many months before. When he laughed at her version of the story, he apologized. “Don’t apologize,” she said. “Now, looking back on it, it was pretty funny. At the time, however, it seemed my life had ended.”

Eric propped himself up on one elbow and slid the tip of his tongue across Jessica’s lips. “And how does it seem now?”

Jessica reached up, cupped the back of Eric’s head and smiled as she touched her lips to his. “It seems like it might have been the best thing that ever happened to me.” When she felt his mouth on hers, it was soft and warm and incredibly exciting. They kissed for a long time, savoring the taste and feel of each other’s lips and tongue. Eric stroked Jessica’s side until she longed for the feel of his hands on her breasts.

As the second half of the concert began, Jessica lay on her back on the blanket with Eric, who propped himself on his elbow, gazing down at her, “Even though you can barely see me in the dark, you make me self-conscious when you look at me like that,” she said.

“Uncomfortable?”

“A little.”

“Good. You make me uncomfortable too. All I can think of is how much I want you.”

Jessica closed her eyes as Eric continued, “Do you know how it will be with us? It will begin with a glow, soft and warm and gentle. Slowly it will build until it will blaze with fire too hot to touch but too sweet to resist.” His hand lay on her flat belly, fingers widely spread, “I can feel your muscles tighten when you’re excited. Like now.” He placed his mouth beside her ear, his breath tickling her. “I can tell you some of the things we’re going to do. Would you like that?”

She groaned. “Tell me.”

“First, I’ll unbutton your blouse. Wear a blouse next time so I can open each button and lick your skin as I expose what’s beneath the material.” He ran his finger down her breastbone to the first button of her blouse, then up to the hollow of her neck, feeling her shiver.

“Then I’ll open your bra so I can admire your beautiful breasts. I’ve seen them in my dreams, full and white with hard, dusky brown nipples. They’ll be so hard and hungry that I won’t be able to resist taking one in my mouth. They will taste of your skin, spicy, tight little nubs. I’ll use my teeth and you’ll try to pull away from the slight pain, until it turns to hot pleasure flowing through your body.” He slid his hand lower, until his fingers rested between Jessica’s thighs.

“Then I’ll slide your bra and your slacks off until you’re wearing only your panties. Have you ever been stroked through the silk of your panties? It slightly muffles the sensation, making it softer, and more delicate.” He felt the heat of her body through the crotch of her jeans and slowly rubbed. “I’ll rub you there, slowly, back and forth, back and forth until you’re filled with such heat that it’s hard for you to breathe.” He rested his head on his upper arm and used his now-free hand to draw her hair from the comb that held it. “I’ll run my fingers through your deep red hair, both here on your head and between your legs.”

Jessica tried to draw air into her lungs, but she could only tremble and respond to Eric’s touch. The rhythmic pressure of his hand between her legs was becoming almost torture. She wanted him inside of her, to fill her and satisfy the unending hunger he was creating. “Oh Eric,” she whispered.

“You’ll be so wet and slippery that I’ll want to slide my fingers into your body. Maybe one finger, deep inside, maybe two or even three, filling you completely. And you’ll be moving your hips, trying to capture my fingers, pull them in deeper.”

As he rubbed her body through her jeans, Jessica felt the pressure build somewhere deep inside and flow through her groin and thighs. It grew hotter and hotter, like a fire consuming, yet not satisfying. “So good,” she moaned.

Eric placed Jessica’s hand over his between her legs. “Feel me rubbing you.”

She rested her hand against his and felt the movement of his fingers. “Oh God.”

“I’ll keep stroking you until you want me more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life. My cock will be so hard that it will hurt, but I’ll wait until I feel your muscles tense and your back arch like it is now. Yes, baby, let it go. Come for me, baby. Do it.”

The fire inside of Jessica’s belly smoldered into life. She ignited hot and white, flames roaring in her ears. As she started to moan, Eric covered her mouth with his own, filling himself with her climax. Despite her writhing, Eric managed to keep his fingers between her legs, draining her of the remnants of her orgasm, drawing the final notes from her now-quieting body.

“Oh my God,” Jessica breathed, shaking her head in amazement. “Never….”

Eric grinned. “Never what?”

“Never before like that.” She tried to catch her breath.

His eyes widened. “You mean no one’s ever touched you like that. Your husband never….”

Jessica reached up and pressed her fingers over Eric’s lips. “I’ve never climaxed like that before.” As he started to ask more questions, she kept his lips still with her finger. “Give me a sip of coffee and I’ll try to explain. Let me catch my breath.”

Eric poured Jessica another cup of coffee, then cooled and diluted it with lots of milk. She took the cup in a still-trembling hand and drank the contents. Then she dropped back onto the blanket. “Rob and I were into very simple sex. He loved my breasts. He said they got him hot just thinking about them. When he wanted to make love, which was two or three times a week, although much less frequently toward the end, he’d take off my pajama tops, suckle until he was excited and hard, then we’d do it. You know, missionary position.”

“Nothing creative?”

Jessica chuckled. “Being creative wasn’t Rob’s strong suit. And I didn’t know any better. Until now.”

A grin split Eric’s face. He’d done it for her. “Oh, Jessica. Making love to you is so good.”

“It will be.”

“It was. What do you think we just did? That was making love just as surely as fucking is. Making love is sharing all the sexual pleasures we can. And there are so many.”

Eric became aware that the air was silent. No music. He sat up and looked around. Clusters of people were ambling toward the parking lot. He glanced at his watch. “Good grief, it’s almost midnight. Time to get Cinderella back to her castle.”

Together they packed the remains of the fruit, wine, and coffee in the hamper, folded the blanket, and placed it on top of the lid. Eric and Jessica each took a handle and they walked back to the car in silence, through the soft summer evening.

When Eric dropped her off at Steph’s house, Jessica said, “I don’t know what to say, Eric.”

“I’d like to invite you to my house, but you need to make a decision before then. In the light of day and with a clear understanding of what it means.”

“And what does it mean?”

“It means that I want to share some wonderful pleasures with you. I want to make love to you for several hours, then relax and make love again. It doesn’t necessarily mean that I want to spend the rest of my life with you or that I want to be with you and you alone. That’s very important. I like you and I want to fuck you until we’re both exhausted.”

“It’s hard for me to grasp. Sex for the fun of it. Like tonight.”

“Sex for the fun of it.” He thought about it. “That’s exactly right. Sex for the fun of it. Think about it, Jessica. I’ll call you in a few days.”

“I won’t be able to think of much else.”

Eric leaned across the gearshift lever and placed a soft kiss on Jessica’s mouth. “Good night, sexy lady.”

“Good night, Eric.”

In her room, Jessica stripped off her clothes and climbed into bed. Sleep, however, was impossible. She lectured herself all night.

Sport fucking, she told herself. That’s all it is. Fucking because it feels good seems so…sinful. But yet so wonderful. For once, my sexual world is filled with light and pleasure.

Am I in love with Eric? No, she argued, I’m not. Would it make it easier if I believed that I were? Yes. And no. I’m infatuated. That’s what it is, and it feels good. And I want more of his lovemaking. It’s like I have a new toy and I want to play with it.

And what’s wrong with that.

By morning, she had debated, argued, vacillated, and finally arrived at the conclusion that she wanted to make love with Eric just because it would feel good. And, for once in her life she was going to do something for herself, just because she wanted to.

Steph and Brian were out for the day and Jessica needed an outlet for her new feelings of freedom. She called a rental car company that specialized in sports cars and asked them to deliver a tiny red Alfa Romeo convertible. When the rental agent asked how long she’d be keeping the car, she told them that she had no idea. “Just give me the weekly rate for two weeks and I’ll call a few days before the end of the second week and let you know.” She gave them her credit card number and hung up.

Two hours later, when the man arrived with her car, she drove him back to the agency, then put the convertible top down, pulled the rubber band from her hair and spent the rest of the morning driving around Westchester County. With the radio turned up loud and the wind in her hair, she felt fifteen years younger than her thirty-six years.

She drove to the Bronx Botanical Gardens and wandered the grounds, stopping to smell the flowers. She ate a hot dog at the Old Snuff Mill, then, realizing she was starving, ordered and ate another, this one smothered in sauerkraut and pickle relish. She drove up to the Bear Mountain Bridge, found a place to park at the Westchester end and walked across and back.

On her way home late that afternoon, she stopped at a delicatessen and picked up a pastrami sandwich with cole slaw and Russian dressing and a sour pickle. Back at Steph’s she sat in the kitchen and devoured every bite, washing it all down with three Samuel Adams Dark Beers.

Then she dialed Eric’s number. When she heard his voice, she said, “It’s Jessica.”

“Well, hello,” Eric said, his voice tentative. “I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

“I didn’t expect to call, but I wanted to thank you for last evening.” She told him about the car she’d rented and the day she had spent. “I feel so good, I just had to thank you. It’s like my life is just beginning.”

“I’m so glad to be part of that.”

“I feel a bit awkward, but I wanted to ask when we can get together again.”

“You’re sure you understand everything?” Eric said.

When Eric spoke, Jessica could hear the smile in his voice. “I know that what we did last evening felt wonderful and I want to explore,” she said. “I’ll probably chicken out several times before I see you again, but in my heart of hearts, I know that this is what I want. And, of course, I’ve had three beers and I’m smashed.”

Eric laughed. “I don’t want to take advantage. Are you really drunk?”

“No,” Jessica admitted. “But it’s a good excuse to let go and do what I want.”

“Can I pick you up in half an hour?”

She glanced at the clock. It was 7:30. “I’d like that,” Jessica said, smiling.

“I’ll see you at eight o’clock.”

Jessica hung up the phone and giggled. “I’ve got a date and I know what I’m going to be doing.” Her body sang and her mound throbbed. “Jessica,” she told herself aloud, “you’re a piece of work.”

She took a two-minute shower, then put on a short-sleeved red blouse, a pair of white slacks and white flats. She brushed on a bit of blush, lipstick and left her hair loose. She had just left a note on the kitchen table, telling Steph and Brian that she was out and she didn’t know when she’d be back when she heard Eric ring the doorbell.

Jessica opened the door and Eric filled the opening. He was wearing the same soft jeans he had worn the evening before, this time with a tailored, navy-blue polo shirt.

“Oh Lord,” he said, staring at her, “I feel like a starving man gazing at a gourmet feast.”

“You’re looking at me like I’m the blue-plate special,” she said, squirming.

“Am I embarrassing you?”

“A bit. But I like the way you look at me.” She grabbed her purse and closed the door behind her.

“Can we take your car?” Eric asked. “It’s warm and I’d love to drive with the top down.”

Jessica fumbled in her purse and found the keys. She tossed them to Eric who opened the passenger door for her. Then he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Do something for me,” he said. “Take off your bra.”

Jessica paused for a moment, then turned away from him. She unbuttoned her blouse, unhooked her bra, and wriggled it off. She rebuttoned the blouse, feeling the fabric brush across her erect nipples. She stuffed the bra in her purse, snapped her seat belt, and lay her head back against the headrest.

“Nice,” Eric said. “That belt falls just in the right spot, right between your luscious breasts.” He reached over and traced the belt with his fingers. “Unbutton the blouse so you can feel the wind on your skin.”

Jessica gave him a questioning look. Then she opened the buttons and spread the sides so the red fabric just covered her areolas. The canvas of the seat belt was cold against her bare chest.

“Oh yes,” Eric said. “We’re going to have everything.” He tuned the radio and, as they drove out of the driveway, Frank Sinatra’s voice filled the warm night.

During the five-minute drive to Eric’s house, Jessica closed her eyes and let the sensuality carry her. The wind was cool on her naked skin, the radio mellow. The air smelled sweet, of summer flowers. She was almost disappointed when they drove up the driveway of Eric’s house. As the car stopped, Jessica couldn’t believe the building in front of her. “You designed this?”

“Yes.” The building seemed to be made of rock and glass, lean and low to the ground, almost growing out of the earth. Although the rooms appeared square, each one was at an angle to its neighbor, gently slanting roofs complementing each other. It was a strange harmony of unusual shapes, softened by lots of hundred-year-old maples. “It was an idea of mine that I adapted to this piece of land. You can’t see much from here but there’s a rocky pool with a little waterfall on this side,” he pointed, “and woods in the back. Real woods. We cut down only one tree.”

“I want to see it during the daytime. It must be magnificent.”

His laughter was deep in his throat. “Some say yes and some think it’s ugly. I like it and I’m all that counts.” He ushered Jessica inside, through the darkened living room, up the stairs, through the master bedroom, and into the master bath. He lit a small oil lamp in the corner and began to light candles.

“Oh my,” she said. The room was dominated by a huge two-person tub that nestled in an alcove surrounded by a redwood-and-tile ledge covered with pots of ferns, interspersed with dozens of glass containers of clear oil with wicks floating inside. Eric poured bath oil into the tub and turned on the tap. Then he lit each candle and they both watched as shadows danced and flickered on the walls and ceiling. The scent of greenery with a hint of flowers filled the room. “Lavender,” Jessica whispered.

“Just a wisp, one candle. And, from now on, every time I smell it, I’ll think of you.” He lit the last candle, turned to a wine bucket he had placed beside the tub and picked out the bottle. He lifted Jessica’s right hand, turned it palm up and cupped it in his large hand. Then he poured a tablespoon of cold wine into her palm, leaned down and licked it up with his rough tongue.

Then he filled his palm and held it out to Jessica. She held his hand in hers and slowly licked the wine from his skin. She slid the tip of her tongue down his index finger, then nipped at the tip. She was wanton. She was brazen. She was free.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned as she nibbled on the end of his finger. “I thought you were new at this.”

“I am,” she whispered. “I’m just learning.”

“You learn too well,” Eric said, pulling his hand away. “I want to take it slowly. Very slowly. I want us to savor every step, every pleasure.”

Jessica wanted to take it all slowly, but her body ached for what she knew would happen. She was excited, her body and soul reaching for something she knew she could have at last. She took a deep breath and stepped back. She looked behind Eric and saw the mountain of bubbles threatening to overflow the huge tub. “Eric,” she whispered, “we’re about to have a minor flood.”

Eric turned around and grabbed for the taps, turning them off just before the water sloshed over the edge. “A long time ago I covered the overflow drain with tape so I could fill this beast as high as I liked. I’ve never lost track of time before.” He released the drain to allow a little water to empty from the tub.

“Thank you. I take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, believe me, it is.” He filled two wine glasses and handed one to Jessica. “Sorry about the plastic, but I won’t have glass in here.”

“I like the cups we used a moment ago better,” she said, raising the glass to her lips and looking up at Eric through lowered lids. She was flirting. She was playing. She tried to control her grin, but didn’t succeed. “Oh God,” she said, “I’m so happy.”

“And a bit drunk?”

“Just enough.”

Once a few inches of water had drained from the tub Eric replaced the stopper. “Our bath awaits.” He pulled off his shirt, pants and shorts, kicked off his shoes and stepped into the bubbles.

Jessica saw only his back, smooth and firm with tight buttocks and well-muscled legs. He had just a little extra weight, enough to make him look soft and inviting. He kept his back to her, fussing with a few more candles.

Now she had to undress. Can I do this? Can I take off my clothes in front of a man I’ve known for less than a week? Quickly, while his back was turned, she pulled off her clothes, stepped into the water and sat down, covering herself with bubbles. This makes no sense, she thought. I’ve made a decision, I’ve licked wine from his palm and nibbled on his fingers. Why now am I afraid of his seeing me naked?

“Can I turn around now?” Eric asked.

“You knew?”

“Jessica, my sweet, your mixed emotions are written all over your lovely face.” He turned, settled into the warm water, took her hand and held it. “I want this to be your decision all the way. I want you to want me and want my lovemaking. And I want you to explore all the things that give you pleasure. I will never knowingly embarrass you, although it might happen without my realizing it, I’m afraid.”

“Thank you for understanding my confusion.”

“I want you to promise me something. Some things we do will make you want to laugh. Silly stuff. And if you want to laugh, do it. I want this to be fun. Some things we might try will make you a bit uncomfortable and some discomfort is very exciting. But if we ever do anything that makes you want to stop, you must say so. Immediately. Just say ‘Eric, stop’ and I will. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Eric placed a palm on each side of Jessica’s face and gazed into her eyes. “If I can be sure that you will tell me to stop, I can do so many things we might enjoy.”

“I do promise, Eric.”

They were facing each other in the giant tub of warm, bubbly water. Holding her face in his palms, he caressed her with his gaze, softly sweeping from her sea-green eyes to her lips to the sensual line of her throat. “So lovely,” he whispered, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. “Half of me wants to grab you by that gorgeous red hair of yours, throw you down on the floor, and fuck you until we’re both exhausted, the other half wants to savor this and make our loving last all night.”

She remained silent, enjoying the warm, sensual web he was spinning around her. Slowly all worries about how briefly she’d known Eric ebbed. She wanted him to make love to her. It was that simple. She picked up a cake of soap and lathered her hands. She placed her palms on his shoulders and made lathery circles on his biceps. She felt him lower his hands into the water as she spread lather onto his upper chest. Smooth, tight skin covered his well-developed muscles.

As she slid her slippery hands up the sides of Eric’s neck, she watched his head fall slowly backward, exposing his throat to her caress. There was something so intimate about the motion that she smiled and rubbed her thumbs along the line of his jaw. She closed her eyes and her hands returned to his chest, swirling through the soapy lather. “Mmmm. You feel so hard and smooth.” Rob has curly chest hair, she thought, then pushed the thought aside.

She opened her eyes and found Eric looking at her. “I told you before that your face tells all. Were you thinking about your ex-husband?”

Without stilling her hands, she said, “Yes. But he’s gone now.”

“No he’s not,” Eric said, “and that’s okay. He’s the only man you’ve ever been with and it’s natural that you should think of him right now. I don’t mind.”

“He’s a fool.”

“That may be true, but he’s your only measuring device.” Eric reached under the bubbles and cupped her breasts in his hands. “I, on the other hand, have had enough experience to know that you will be a sensual delight.” He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples and felt them contract until they were tight under his fingers. “We will learn to share so many pleasures.” He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Jessica’s lips. Then he soaped his hands and rubbed the lightly scented lavender soap over her shoulders and upper arms. “Your skin is so soft.” He increased the size of the soapy circles until his hands slipped under the water and caressed her breasts.

Jessica let her head fall back, soaking in Eric’s touches as she soaked in the water. Her ribs, her underarms, her neck and arms, she felt Eric stroke them all. Then he lifted one of her hands out of the water and carefully soaped each finger, sliding his fingers between hers. Then he dipped the hand into the water and sucked the tip. “You taste soapy,” he said. He picked up his wine glass and poured a bit of the cold, clear liquid over her fingers, then drew each, in turn, into his mouth. “Delicious,” he whispered. He repeated the ablutions with her other hand.

“I’d like to make love to you right here,” he said, “but we need to shower off first.”

Puzzled, Jessica looked at him. “They always do it in hot tubs in movies.”

“In movies, the actors aren’t really covered with soap, that might irritate your tender body. In addition, let me show you something about hot water.” He stood up, water and bubbles pouring from his slight belly.

Jessica couldn’t help gazing at his penis, small and flaccid. I am a failure, she told herself. Rob was right. I am frigid.

Laughing, Eric said, “Hot water and too much wine. Not you, my love.” He lifted her into a standing position and sluiced water and soap from her body with the flats of his hands. “Definitely not you.” He caught the drop of soapy water at the tip of one breast with the tip of his tongue.

Jessica shuddered, not sure whether Eric was lying to save her from embarrassment. She watched Eric pull a shower curtain across the open side of the alcove, release the tub’s drain, and reach for the shower controls. Suddenly the alcove was filled with soft, warm spray, coming from shower heads in each corner at once. “It’s like a soft summer rain,” she said.

“There are several settings, but this one is designed for moments like this.” As water drained from the tub, warm water poured over their bodies and Jessica turned her face to the spray, rinsing off all traces of soap. “Done?” Eric asked.

“Ummm,” she purred.

Eric turned off the water, opened the curtain and wrapped Jessica in a thick, thirsty bath sheet. As she rubbed her hair, Eric, a towel around his waist, walked out through the connecting door. Slowly, as she watched, candlelight began to dance on the walls of the bedroom.

Without giving Jessica time to think, Eric returned, swept her into his arms, and carried her to the bed. He spread a dry towel on the satin spread, laid her on it and stepped back, feasting on her naked body. “God, you’re lovely.” He nipped her toes and kissed his way up her shin.

Jessica looked at the wavy gray hair on the man who was quite purposefully making love to her. It wasn’t Rob. It was Eric. Then she felt Eric’s hot breath on the hair between her legs and she couldn’t think anymore. Reflexively, she pulled her knees together.

“Oh, baby,” Eric whispered. “You’re so sweet.” He pulled her legs open and blew a cool stream of air on the hot flesh between her thighs.

“But….” She willed her muscles to relax, but they wouldn’t.

“Rob never kissed you here?” he asked.

“No.” Her voice was barely audible.

“Does it feel bad?”

“I don’t think so. Just odd.”

He lightly rubbed his index finger over her clitoris. “And this?”

Her mind was filled with colors, swirling reds and purples, oranges and bright sulfurous yellows. “God no. It feels…indescribable.”

“How about this?” He surrounded her clit with his lips, swirled his tongue across it, then sucked it into his mouth. As he felt her body tighten, he slid two fingers into her drenched pussy.

The sensations were too much for Jessica. The colors exploded, pinwheels and kaleidoscopes, angles and shards of color and light. “Eric,” she screamed, arching her back and clenching her fists. “Eric.”

“There’s so much more I want with you,” Eric said, “but I can’t wait right now.” He unwrapped a condom, unrolled the latex over his engorged penis, crouched between Jessica’s legs and pressed his cock against her opening. “Feel that?” he said. “Feel how hard for you?” He slid it into her passage, a bit at a time. “Feel how it fills you, stretches you? Feel how I want you.” When he had filled her completely, he held still above her, balanced on the heels of his hands. “Open your eyes, Jessica. Look at the man who wants you beyond everything right now.”

Jessica opened her eyes and looked at Eric, his face tight as he held his body in check for one last moment. She watched the control in his passion-clouded eyes. That passion and control is for me, she thought. A small smile curled the corners of her mouth. He was holding back. He was controlling his excitement. She clenched her vaginal muscles and squeezed the cock that filled her.

“Oh baby,” he groaned, pulling back, then plunging deeper inside, giving in to the needs of his body.

Jessica’s last coherent thought was that she had caused him to lose control. She, Jessica. One-time frigid wife of Rob the asshole. Oh lord, I’ve missed so much. But not anymore. Then waves of an incredibly intense orgasm overtook her.