Page 50 of Tell Me What You Want

There we go. He just called me a child.

At another time, I might have gotten out of the car and slammed the door in his face, but I can’t. His magic has cast a spell on me again. He continues to avert his eyes, to avoid looking at me, but I persist.

“I spent all day thinking about getting naked for you. But when you mentioned having dinner with Amanda, I ...”

“This is a business trip, remember?”

My breathing changes at his harshness, and I can’t contain my Spanish temper.

“I’m well aware this is a business trip. That was quite clear before we left Madrid. But today you stopped a meeting, threw everybody out of the room, and ripped my tanga off me. What, you think I’m made of stone? Or that I’m one more of the many toys in your toy box?” He doesn’t respond, so I continue. “I understand the terms of our trip. I take responsibility for allowing myself to be here with you ...”

“Right now, are you wearing a tanga or panties?”

Aghast, I furrow my brow and move away from him. My temper explodes. “For the love of God! We’re arguing, and out of the blue, you ask me if I’m wearing a tanga or panties?”

“Yes.”

I refuse to answer.

“You still haven’t told me who you were with this evening, nor where.”

I sigh. Arguing with him is exhausting.

I let my body fall into the contours of the car seat and surrender.

“I had dinner with my friend Miriam down at the port, and I’m wearing panties.”

“Just the two of you?”

For an instant, I consider telling him a lie and saying that I dined out with the city’s rugby team, but I don’t feel like dealing with his temper.

“Yes, just the two of us.”

My answer appears to please him, and his mouth softens. I feel him moving in his seat, then coming closer, as if he is going to kiss me.

“Give me your panties,” he says.

“What, why?” I protest.

Eric smiles and kisses me. Finally, a truce! But after the kiss, he moves away from me.

“Because the last time I was with you, you weren’t wearing any underwear, and I haven’t given you permission to put panties back on.”

“So you’re telling me I should have gone commando all night in Barcelona?” But he doesn’t like my little joke, so I just take them off. “Here are my goddamned panties.”

He bunches them in his hand and sticks them in the pocket of his linen pants. He’s super handsome in those loose pants and that bluish T-shirt. He looks at my legs. He touches them while his gaze climbs up to my breasts.

“I see you’re not wearing a bra.”

“No, I don’t need one with this dress.”

He nods. He touches my breasts through the dress.

“Sit in front of me.”

I don’t argue. I just get up and sit in the seat in front of him. He stretches his hand and touches my leg.

“I love how soft you are.”

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