Page 101 of Tell Me What You Want, Or Leave Me

“I know, sweetheart...I know.”

We dance in an embrace to the beautiful music and smile as we both sing along.

Being in his arms is the balm for my doubts.

Being in his arms makes me feel loved and safe.

Once the song is over, I let him guide me, and we sit very close together in the armchair. I love his kisses, and, when our mouths part, he’s looking very satisfied.

“Listen,” he says, “I wasn’t fooled by that ‘oh, what a pity’ about Laila’s departure. What’s your problem with her?”

“What’s this about you going to London?”

“Work, sweetheart.”

“How many days?”

“Three. Four at the most.”

“And when were you going to tell me?”

“Well, a few days beforehand.” He knows this is upsetting. “You know—”

“Amanda’s there. Is that it?”

Eric looks at me, and I hold his gaze.

As always when she comes up, the tension rises between us.

“When are you going to trust me?” he asks. “I think I’ve already shown you that—”

“It’s Amanda...,” I say, cutting him off. “How can you expect me to trust her?”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes.

“Sweetheart, if you are so suspicious, come with me. Accompany me. I don’t have anything to hide. I’m just going to work. I’m the head of the family, and I’m expected to do these things.”

I understand. And it’s not him but Amanda...Laila...these women make me distrust them.

Eric gets up and, without taking his eyes off me, serves himself a whisky while Luis Miguel sings “Te extraño.” Then he comes back to the armchair and sits next to me.

“Sit back.”

I’m surprised.

“I’m waiting,” he says.

I do what he asks. The lust in his gaze has already hit me. When I lie back, he sneaks his hands under my comfortable cotton dress and pulls on my panties, taking them off. Luckily, he didn’t rip them this time.

Overheated, I watch the way his eyes roam all over me.

“Bend your legs and part them.”

“Eric, Laila could come in at any minute and—”

“Do as I say,” he demands.

Spellbound by his look and very excited by his command, I obey. He puts a cushion under my butt, and, when he has my pelvis at the height he wants, he takes his whisky and splashes some on my sex.

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