“You’re afraid of needles?”
“Yeah.”
“I love how I learn something new about you every day.” He caresses my cheek with the back of his hand, and I lean in like a kitten who can’t get enough of her master’s touch. “I’ll bring you a top with long sleeves so you don’t see it.”
“Great idea,” I say, touched. I’m wearing a silk, sleeveless sundress.
Eric returns a few minutes later, handing me a long-sleeved summer sweater. After I put it on, I notice he’s holding the shirt he gave me months ago in his other hand.
“You’re a little thief,” he informs me, sitting next to me and pulling me in his lap. “I forgot about this. Were you ever going to return it?”
“Well, you did find it in my suitcase.”
“So, you’re a reformed thief?”
Licking my lips, I say, “I slept in it a few times at home.” Heat creeps up my face, and I’m sure the redness in my cheeks is visible.
Eric is silent for a few beats, before saying, “C’mere.” He opens his arms, beckoning me to lean in to his hug. I stay put, not meeting his gaze for some reason. I play with the sleeve of the shirt, keeping my eyes fixed on the button.
“Pippa, is everything okay? You’ve gone quiet.”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Do you want to keep this?” His voice has an edge to it that threatens to undo me. Am I imagining it, or is there pain in it?
“I’d love to, but I was wondering. Can I swap this shirt with the one you wore today?”
“Why?”
“Because this one doesn’t smell like you.”
“You want to sleep in my smelly shirt?”
I keep twisting the sleeve in my fingers as I say, “I want to have something that smells like you, so I can remember you.”
“Pippa, look at me,” he says gently.
“I love you,” I whisper. In the stunned silence that follows, my heart shrinks to the size of a pea. “I’m sorry. I know we—”
“Shhh,” Eric interrupts me. He puts his thumb under my chin, lifting it and looking at me. His eyes are full of warmth and tenderness. “Never apologize to me. Least of all because you love me.” He pulls me closer to him, and this time, I lean in to his touch all the way. “I can’t say it. I could never get on that plane if I did.”
I nod, smiling against his lips. “I think it’s best if you don’t. Otherwise, I’ll start crying.”
He leans his forehead against mine, and we both draw in deep breaths.
Eric pushes my hair to one side, then nuzzles the exposed part of my neck.
“I want you,” he whispers. His hot breath on my wet skin prompts goose bumps to form on my arms.
“Yes.” We desire each other with an intensity that scares me. I grip the hem of his shirt with both hands, pulling him to me, needing to feel even closer to him, but nothing feels close enough. A familiar sexual stirring springs to life inside me. His hands travel from my shoulders to my waist, and he cups one of my breasts over the fabric of the sweater.
He groans against my lips. “You’re not wearing a bra.”
“You complainin’?”
“No. I thought about you all day, wanting to make love to you.”
“There’s nothing restricting you now,” I tease.