and down the hall toward their rooms.
“Nine a.m.” Sofia replied. And since everything had been pushed back today, there was no hoping for an extra hour tomorrow morning.
“Let’s meet in my suite at eight for breakfast.” He still sounded confident and alert, as if he could have lingered at the bar for another few hours.
She didn’t want to linger at the bar. She wanted to linger in his bed, by God.
Meryl and Steve mumbled their agreements as they reached their room. Eric paused and looked back over his shoulder, making eye contact with Sofia. She bobbed her head, agreeing to the question he hadn’t asked—at least not in words.
It didn’t matter. The answer was still yes.
“Good night,” she said to the hallway at large as she went into her room. She took a moment to use the bathroom and freshen up and then, still in her fancy dress, she opened the door on her side of the wall.
His side was already open. Quietly, she stepped into the room. Even that simple act had her pulse beating at a higher rhythm, which was still a new and exciting feeling to her. During that first year after David had passed, when she’d been struggling to care for her newborn twins, her sexuality had been in hibernation. She hadn’t had the energy to miss it then, but when she’d begun to emerge from the fog of depression and sleep deprivation, she’d wondered if she would be capable of sexual desire again. It was almost like she’d forgotten how.
Then, this afternoon, Eric had made her shatter with nothing more than a well-placed touch and some passionate kisses. Which had been wonderful relief. She could still feel. That part of her hadn’t died with David.
But she wanted more. She wanted it all.
She wanted Eric. And thank God, he was here for her.
This was just the weekend. On Monday, they’d go back to normal. She’d go to work and he’d go boating. No more clothes, no more kisses in the back of his car. No more pictures of Eric cuddling her children.
No one would know. Especially not her mother.
Eric came out of his bedroom and, without breaking stride, crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. His mouth came down over hers, a kiss so hot that suddenly she had on far too much clothing. Luckily for her, he was hell-bent on rectifying that situation.
“All night long,” he murmured against the delicate skin of her neck, making her pulse flutter wildly, “I’ve been staring at you in this dress.”
“I like this dress.” The zipper moved down her back one notch at a time as his mouth drifted down her neck to her cleavage at the exact same pace. Luxurious warmth built low in her body and radiated out. For the first time in so long, she was warm. God, she hoped Eric heated her up.
She went on, “It makes me look...”
Well, it made her look like she fit in his world.
“Correction,” he said as he tugged the zipper down the rest of the way. Cool air kissed her back and she shivered, her nipples going hard. “You make the dress look amazing, Sofia.” He took a step back, and the dress gaped at her chest. He ran his fingers under the straps then pulled them off her shoulders. “But you know what’s better than you in this dress?”
“What?”
“You out of this dress.”
The dress puddled at her waist and he stepped into her again, working it over her hips.
“Oh, Sofia,” he breathed as the dress fell to the floor and she was left in nothing but a strapless bra, underwear and her shoes. His eyes warmed as he stepped back to look her over. “I thought I was ready, but I’m not.”
“You’re not?” Anxiety began to twist in her stomach again. Please, please don’t let this be a mistake in the making.
But Eric cupped her cheeks in his palms, lifting her face to his. “I may never be ready for you, babe. You’re always going to take my breath away, aren’t you?”
And before she could reply to that sincere compliment—damn him and his sincere compliments—he lowered his mouth to hers again.
She lost herself in the give-and-take of their kiss. Somehow, they were moving, although she wasn’t aware of taking any steps. Eric kicked out of his shoes and then she was pushing his shirt off his shoulders. He lost his pants in the doorway to the bedroom and she pulled his undershirt off next to the bed. Now it was her turn to step back and admire him. It made her smile to see that he had on black boxer briefs. Black was de rigueur for the evening, apparently.
Hopping on one foot and then the other, he peeled off his socks. There was something familiar and comforting about it and yes, silly. She’d watched him peel off his socks and shoes countless times when they used to throw themselves into the pool as kids.
It was ridiculous that something as simple as taking off his socks could make her relax, but it did. This was okay. Better than okay. He was still Eric and somewhere, deep inside, she was still Sofia. No matter how much it changed, that would always be the same.
She started to take her strappy heeled sandals off, but Eric said, “No, wait.” Before she could figure out what he meant, he fell to his knees and set his hands against the buckle of the sandal.
This was the second time today he had been on his knees before her, undressing her slowly. And she knew in all truthfulness that she might not ever be ready for him, either. It didn’t make sense, why he was putting so much effort into this. He could’ve had his pick of any woman in the world. Why was he here with her?
He got her sandals off and then sat back on his heels, staring up at her. “You doing okay?” Before she could answer, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her thigh.
She laced her fingers in his hair to balance herself. “I think so,” she answered honestly before she realized he might take it the wrong way.
He paused. “We can stop.”
She stared down at him. Even from this angle, she could see his erection straining against the waistband of his briefs. She’d felt it grinding against her earlier, his body hot and heavy for her.
“I don’t want to stop,” she told him, raking her fingers through his hair. “I want to feel good, Eric. I want to be selfish.” And, although she didn’t say it, she knew he understood—she didn’t want to regret this.
More than that, she didn’t want this to be somber and quiet. She was so tired of being serious, of feeling like the fate of the world rested on every single decision she made.
“And I want to have fun,” she said, unable to stop her voice from wavering. “I need to have fun. With you. Please.”
“I would do anything for you, Sofia,” he said and dammit all, his voice was serious. “Anything, that is, except eat one of those fire-hot Takis again.”
She surprised herself by laughing and he grinned. “Those things took a year
