Page 16 of Tell Me What You Want

“I should stop this,” I say in a low voice. “Right now.”

6

When I get home, Curro welcomes me. My sister has left a note saying she gave him his medication.

I put on something more comfortable and cook up some delicious pasta carbonara. I plop down on the couch to watch TV while I devour it. When I finish, I lie back and fall into a deep sleep. Some time later, a shrieking sound abruptly awakens me. Drowsy, I get up; the sound is insistent. It’s the phone.

“Who is it?” I ask, rubbing my eyes.

“Jude, it’s Eric.” And then I wake up in a flash. I check the clock. It’s six on the dot. I’m a wreck! My apartment is a disaster. The dirty dish is still on the table, the kitchen is like a swamp, and I look terrible.

“Jude, will you open up?”

I want to say no, but I don’t dare. I huff and press the button. Quickly, I hang up the phone. I know I have—more or less—a minute and a half. I leap over the chair, and it’s a miracle I don’t smash my face against the table. I’m about to make my next move, when I hear the doorbell.

I check myself in the mirror. My hair is all tangled up. I fix it as best I can and dash to get the door. When I open it, I find Eric, wearing jeans and a dark shirt, and looking very handsome. Then he gives me the once-over.

“Were you running?” he asks.

Like an idiot, I lean on the door. “Just short distances.”

He scans me up and down. I’m about to scream, “Yes, I know—I look horrible!” But he surprises me.

“I love your shoes.”

I turn red when I look down and see the SpongeBob SquarePants sneakers my niece gave me. Eric comes in without asking permission. Curro sidles up to him, and Eric bends down to pet him.

I close the door and lean against it again. Eric stands and hands me a bottle.

“Here you go, beautiful. Open it. Put it in a bucket with lots of ice, and get two wineglasses.”

I nod without complaint. He’s already giving orders.

When I get to the kitchen, I notice the Moët & Chandon pink label.

“I guessed that you like strawberries,” he says from behind me as he puts his hand on my waist to bring me closer. “It’s wild strawberry champagne. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Enraptured by his proximity, I close my eyes and give in. He really does something to me. Suddenly, he turns me around, and I’m pinned between him and the refrigerator. My breathing picks up. He stares at me. I stare back, and then he does that thing I like so much. He leans down and brings his tongue to my upper lip and licks it.

I open my mouth in anticipation, and he takes me in his arms and lifts me up so we’re at the same height. Then he launches his tongue directly and voraciously into my mouth.

I coil my legs around his waist, and when he shoves his thigh into the center of my being, I melt; feeling his hard, ardent desire makes me want to tear his clothes off. But then he pulls his mouth back from mine.

“Where is the gift I got you?” he asks.

I turn red again.

“There,” I say.

He walks over with me still wrapped around his body, and then lets me down. He grabs the envelope, takes out the vibrator, and opens it. The whole time, he never takes his eyes off me. He thrills me.

“Get the champagne and the glasses.”

He meets me as I’m coming out of the kitchen and takes my hand.

“Take me to your bedroom,” he says.

Ready to take him up to heaven itself, I lead him down the hall to the door of my room. I open it, and my pretty, white bed lies before us. I place the champagne and the two glasses on the night table.

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