At about ten in the morning, the buzzing of my cell rouses me. I pick it up and see a message from Eric:Wake up.
I leap from the bed and take a shower. It’s Saturday. I don’t have any meetings today and would like to spend most of my time with him. When I step out of the shower with a towel around me, someone knocks at my door. I open it and find a magnificent Eric, wearing low-slung jeans and an open-collar white shirt. He’s tempting and wild.
“Good morning, sweetness.”
“Good morning.”
I stare at him like a schoolgirl.
“Would you like to spend the day with me?” he asks.
For once, he’s not taking anything for granted.
“Of course.”
“Great! I’m going to take you to a beautiful place. Bring your swimsuit.”
I smile affirmatively, and he finally comes in.
“Go get dressed, or I’m going to end up having you for breakfast,” he says in a raspy voice.
Delighted by his words, I rush to the bedroom. As I get dressed, the radio’s playing a song I love, and I sing along.
When I turn around, Eric is leaning on the doorframe, watching me.
“What are you singing?”
“You don’t know that song?”
“No. Who sings it?”
“A group called Quinta Estación,” I say as I button up my jeans. “It’s called, ‘I Die.’”
Eric grabs me around the waist.
“The song says something like ‘I’m dying to kiss you,’ right?”
I nod like a fool.
“Well, that’s happening to me right now, sweetness.”
He takes me in his arms. He lifts me up and kisses me. He devours me with such a frenzy that all I want now is for him to undress me and keep on ravaging me. The song continues as he kisses me until he stops abruptly and gives me a playful slap on the butt.
“Finish dressing, or I won’t be able to help myself.”
I laugh and go to the bathroom to put my hair up in a ponytail. When I come out, Eric is leaning on the window and peering outside. He has such an impressive profile. Sexy. When he sees me, he beams.
“How do you manage to look more beautiful every day?”
Delighted by that compliment, I give him a special smile.
“Let’s get out of here before I tear your clothes off, sweetness,” he says.
Laughing, we go down to the hotel lobby. He doesn’t touch me or come close to me again beyond what’s necessary. A valet hands Eric a set of keys. “A Lotus?” I ask, astonished.
Eric nods and points to the hotel door, where I see a marvelous orange sports car.
“Oh my God, a Lotus Elise 1600!”