I fell in love with Hotel Chelsea the second I set foot in it and I was anxious to get back to it. I had completely forgotten about the hotel until Pam had offered Eric and I one of the spare bedrooms in her brownstone. I liked Pam. She was fun to sass with and undoubtedly, she was one of the few people who could truly raise Eric’s ire without losing an ounce of his respect or affection. It was a short list and it was pretty sweet to know my name was at the top of it. I teased my boyfriend because he let me, just like I let him tease me. It was give and take and I loved that we were secure enough in ourselves- and our relationship- that we could do that without someone’s feelings getting hurt.
The hotel had the most vibrant energy and it was so close to the Garment District. The sister office to Eric’s company was on 37th Street between 8th Avenue and Fashion Avenue. If it weren’t so damn cold outside we would be able to walk there instead of cabbing it, but it was just too cold for our California blood. There was fresh snow on the ground when we arrived. Our flight had been delayed on account of it. I was hoping there’d be time to take a walk through Central Park but I didn’t think we would. Between my meetings with Pam and Lindsay to make sure they had everything in place for Fashion Week, and Eric’s meetings with Mr. Cataliades, I was pretty sure we were about booked solid.
We arrived at the hotel and were escorted to our room up on the fourth floor. I loved how every room at Hotel Chelsea was unique. I could have spent hours just wandering the halls, staring at the artwork on the walls. The stairwells were particularly fun to spend time in. There were paintings, sketches and even some poetry written there. The ironwork on the railings was magnificent and intricate. It amazed me how one hallway might look like 17th century France and another would look like a bomb had just hit it. There was nothing uniform about the hotel, even after all of the renovations that had been done to it over the years. It was a hodge podge of design and culture. It was so wrong, it was right.
We were shown to a room with rich chocolate walls and rusty red carpet. The bed was covered in white with throw pillows the same color as the carpet. Antique lamps were on the tables on either side of the bed. None of the wood in the room matched. The bed frame was a light oak. The night stands were a darker cherry and the dresser across from the bed was a medium maple. A small armchair that was also the same color as the carpet was parked near the dresser and blocked the small flat screen TV that was perched on it. A single black and white photo was framed and hung on the wall above the dresser. There were no mirrors on the walls.
Two floor to ceiling window panels were hidden behind sheer white curtains and heavier pumpkin colored drapes. A large white globe dropped down from the ceiling to cast most of the light in the room. I was beyond excited to find that light was on a dimmer switch, or Eric and I would have had to switch rooms. That was the thing about Hotel Chelsea- they weren’t offended if you were given a room that didn’t suit your tastes.
Being that the hotel was inhabited by creative types, they were used to people being picky about the “flow” of the room. Personally, as long as the joint wasn’t crawling with bugs and looked like it had been cleaned in the last few days I didn’t care what the décor was. All I cared about was a functioning shower and a bed to sleep on. I was surprised to find that carpet was actually pretty plush. Eric complained about the lack of wifi in the room but I reminded him he would be able to check his email from his phone. He could be such a baby sometimes.
I unpacked our clothes while Eric went to shower. He’d had the misfortune of sitting behind a kid with a cold and the kid didn’t seem to care that he was sneezing all over everyone within a five foot radius. Lucky for me, I’d napped through most of the flight and had been tucked against the window of the plane instead of resting on Eric’s arm, otherwise I would have gotten a dose of infected slobber. In the almost six years I’d known Eric, I’d never seen him with a cold or any sort of sickness more serious than a hangover.
“I’m all clean if you want to help get me dirty again!” Eric called from the bathroom.
I snickered and rolled my eyes. I walked over to the bathroom and leaned in the doorway. “I don’t think there’s room for two in that shower, sweetie.”
“We can make it work.” His eyebrows wiggled.
“Mmm, as tempting as that sounds, I think I’m going to pass for now. Besides, we’re supposed to meet Pam for drinks in an hour and I don’t want to hear her bitching because we’re late.” I really wasn’t in the mood to hear it from Pam.
“You’re no fun. I don’t like East Coast Sookie.” Eric pouted before sticking his head back behind the curtain.
“Awww poor baby’s gonna have to wait until later to ravage me.” I teased him, rolling my eyes again as I walked to the bed to grab the dress I planned on wearing.
I contemplating bringing a variation of the dress I’d worn on Saturday but I didn’t think it would be wise to do so. The last thing I needed was to find myself thrown up against a wall in some dirty dive bar. Not that it wouldn’t be fuckhot, as Eric would say, but I wasn’t quite advanced enough yet for sex in public places like that. The office was different since I knew we’d be alone. A crowded bar in Manhattan was another story. Eric came out of the bathroom as I was stepping into my wrap around plum colored dress. It tied at my waist and accentuated his favorite features.
As I knew they would, his eyes went straight to my cleavage. He licked his lips and shook his head before turning away from me to get dressed. I plopped down in the little red armchair to put on my stockings since it was too cold to go out with bare legs. That gorgeous ass of his was within grabbing distance and it took all the restraint I had to keep myself from doing just that. It sometimes worried me just how little will power stood between going about my day like a normal person and tackling Eric like it was the last time I’d ever see him. The only consolation to that feeling was knowing Eric felt the exact same way.
We got in a cab a short time later and headed to Bull’s Head Tavern where we would be meeting Pam. Normally I would have balked at the idea of taking a cab less than six blocks but it was too cold (and it was snowing) outside for anything else. And even though it was only six blocks it still took almost twenty minutes to get there. Manhattan was just ridiculously crowded. Eric and I found a table and while I got settled in my seat, he went to the bar to order us drinks. We were in the midst of discussing where to go for dinner afterward when Pam walked in, looking grumpy and ready to do some damage.
She stalked over to the table and plopped down her designer bag before practically ripping off her coat. “I fucking hate winter.” She announced before sitting down with a huff.
“The Ice Queen uncomfortable in the cold. Will wonders never cease.” Eric smirked and sipped his beer. I nudged him under the table as a warning not to get Pam anymore fired up than she already was.
“I’m in no mood today, Northman. That fucktard you sent me to help out in the legal department doesn’t know his ass from his elbow.” Pam glared at Eric.
“Pam, did the fucktard accidentally set the building on fire, or sell off a piece of my business?” Eric asked casually.
“Eric, if that had happened you’d be visiting me at Riker’s right about now. Where the hell is a waitress?”
Rather than risk upsetting her further I passed her my martini and offered to go to the bar for a new one. Pam took my drink and gulped it down. “Ugh, I hate them sweet. Bring me a new one extra dirty!” Pam called out behind me.
I rose a hand to let her know I heard her. I made my way to the bar and waited patiently to put in my drink order. Having as much cleavage on display as I did certainly helped to speed the bartender along. I placed my drink order and then turned toward our table to see if Pam had chilled out a little. When I saw she was talking in an animated fashion I started to wish I had stayed behind at the hotel to do some more prep work for my meeting with Lindsay the following morning. I would be spending the better part of the day at the office, going over all of the things I did to prepare for Fashion Week in LA. Lindsay would have to make adjustments for New York, but at least she’d have an idea of what to expect.
I returned to the table with a new round of drinks for everyone and Pam looked like I’d just presented her with a pair of solid gold Jimmy Choos, the way she was smiling at me. “God bless you.” I think she may have muttered before sipping the drink.
Things were a bit smoother from there on out. After our third round of drinks we decided to go search out dinner. Pam had big plans with a stack of contracts to read through and a takeout menu, so she left us to ourselves to get the rest of her work done. Eric and I got back in a cab and headed toward Pastis. I’d been there once before. The food was amazing. Eric laughed at me for getting macaroni and cheese.
“You can take the girl out of the south, but you can’t take the south out of the girl.” I shrugged and dug in.
He kept looking at me strangely over dinner and I started to pay attention to any sounds I might be making. After what had happened on my birthday, I realized that Eric was very likely to get distracted if I moaned my appreciation too much. Although how he could possibly hear me over the din of the crowded restaurant, I will never know. He’d look away when I’d catch him looking at me and after the fourth time, I started to get frustrated.
“What’s your deal, Northman? You’ve been giving me awkward eyes all night.” I jabbed at a noodle and waited for him to answer. When I got nothing out of him I asked, “Do I have cheese on my face?”
He smiled and shook his head. “You know I would have removed it myself by now, lover.”
Yeah, he would have. He would have gotten right up, walked around the table, licked my face and sat down again like it was perfectly normal. That was my Eric.
“So then what’s going on? You’ve been oddly quiet. You’re not still pouting over the shower, are you?” I really didn’t want to hear it if that was his deal.
“Sookie, there’s nothing wrong. I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Care to share with the rest of the class?”
“It’s just business.” The brush off.
I sighed and stuffed another mouthful of pasta in my face. It was either eat or pester Eric and since we were going to be in close quarters for the next couple of days, I decided that eating was the better option. Something was up, I could feel it. I just wouldn’t press for details. He’d come to me when he was ready. He always did.
Turns out Pam’s assistant was a transplant from a small town in Missouri. She’d come to New York in a path similar to Anne Hathaway’s character in The Devil Wears Prada. She wanted to be a journalist but didn’t have the credentials to really get where she wanted to be. She’d done well in college, graduating at the top of her class and editing her college paper, but all of the postings she’d found were for underground publications that paid next to nothing, or for freelance work.
“I want the New York Times.” She admitted with a bashful smile on her face. “Crazy, huh?”
“Absolutely not!” I shook my head. “I think dreams are important. You’re what, twenty-three?”
“Twenty-two, actually. But I’ll be twenty-three in July.”
My head spun just a little. I had to admire her courage. No way could I have moved so far away from home at her age. Doing it just before I turned twenty-five was scary enough.
“Well, take it from someone who is just a few years older than you, you don’t have to make all of your dreams come true by the age of twenty-three. There’s time.” I winked at her.
Lindsay smiled in response but I could tell my statement did little to comfort her. I had to admire her ambition. We went over all of the information I’d brought along with me to help her get prepared for the coming weeks. I warned her that by the time it was all over she was going to want to spend a week on a massage table and a month on a warm, sandy beach. She merely shrugged and told me she enjoyed a challenge. I snickered, knowing I would get a phone call as soon as Fashion Week was wrapped up wanting to know beaches were the best. I was willing to put money on it.
In fact, after Fashion Week in LA last year, Eric had paid for my vacation as a thank you for all of my hard work. I’d spent five days in Mexico and it was absolute heaven. I even sent him a text message telling him I’d reconsidered on working from home. Of course I flew back to LA feeling tons better about myself and it didn’t exactly escape me that I’d missed him. While Mexico had been wonderful, something had been missing. It wasn’t until I walked into the office and saw his face that I knew Eric had been that thing. I wanted to go back and show him everything I’d seen and done while I was there. I wanted to recreate those memories to include him.
I was exhausted by the time I left Lindsay. We’d spent the better part of the day organizing, making phone calls and drafting memos to the staff. Since it was a bit warmer outside I walked back to the hotel. My feet were tired but I forced myself to take the stairs. There were just too many things to see in the stairwells. I marveled at some of the paintings that had been done, stopping to appreciate an Andy Warhol I’d never seen before. I wasn’t big into art, but I knew enough to know that Andy Warhol was a master of his craft. The painting was truly remarkable. On the night flight of stairs I found a sketch that was signed by Jimi Hendrix and a little ways from that were lyrics signed by Bob Dylan. Amazing.
I got back to our room to find Eric stretched out on the bed, his eyes closed. I slipped off my shoes and coat and fell into bed beside him. I didn’t want to move for the rest of the night. Food be damned. As much as I was enjoying New York, I found myself missing the warmth and sunshine of LA. More accurately, I missed our bed and the quiet serenity of being locked away in our house. I was still getting used to thinking of Eric’s house as our house. I hadn’t even been a full-time resident there for two weeks, but already it felt like home to me.
Eric turned onto his side and gathered me closer to him. He inhaled the smell of my hair and I swear he purred. I couldn’t help but smile while I loosened his tie some more so I could slip it off him. The fact that he was still wearing it told me how exhausted he must have been when he came back. I stretched my neck up and kissed his chin. He smiled in his sleep and squeezed me. We didn’t speak. I got his tie off and dropped it on the floor behind me. I slung one of my legs over his and drifted off.
I woke sometime later to the sound of the door slamming. My eyes popped open to find Eric in his coat, carrying two bags and fresh snow still in his hair. “I went for dinner.”
The smell of soy and grease hit me. My mouth watered as I sat up. “Did you get orange chicken?”
He looked at me like I was crazy. “Do you really think I want you sending me back out to get you some? Hell no. It’s snowing like you wouldn’t believe out there.”
“Look for yourself.”
I edged off the bed and looked out the windows. He wasn’t kidding. It was a clusterfuck of winter weather. “Eric, you didn’t have to go out in that!”
“Yes I did. I wanted spring rolls.” He grinned at me.
“Is it still warm?”
“I cabbed it.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.
He handed me a plastic fork since I couldn’t eat with chopsticks to save my life, no matter how many times he tried to teach me. I couldn’t even work the ones for kids. I just wasn’t coordinated like that. I went to the bathroom to change clothes before getting back in bed to eat Chinese food and watch whatever Eric found on the Discovery Channel. He wasn’t much for TV but when he did watch, it was usually something educational. He despised the reality shows I often lost myself in. I figured I was allowed a guilty pleasure. My only vices were coffee and chocolate, well, that’s before sex with my boyfriend entered the picture. But none of those things were unhealthy. Reality shows might have numbed a few of my brain cells but everyone was entitled to an escape. I figured American Idol was better than taking up smoking or drinking.
Eric might have disagreed with that.
I asked about his meeting with Cataliades. He was more vague than usual but he told me things were going well. They had set a meeting with Stan’s lawyers to discuss a negotiation to end their partnership. I knew Eric didn’t like to cut people out but that was mostly because it meant owning up to having trusted the wrong person. Eric had a pretty good nose for sniffing out con artists and people who would try to stab him in the back and I knew it bothered him to no end that Stan had flown under his radar. That realization was probably what brought the whole thing to a head in the first place.
“I still think he should fire Hugo. I really, really hate that guy.” I grumbled as I speared a piece of Mongolian beef from Eric’s carton.
“It’s not our problem anymore, lover.” He watched as I popped the piece of meat in my mouth and nearly dropped the carton in my hands.
Holy shit was it spicy! I made all sorts of noises and ran to the bathroom for water. Eric erupted in laughter behind me. I completely forgot about his penchant for spicy food. I didn’t mind a little heat but Eric must have enjoyed having his taste buds seared. I spit out of the offending beef and then washed my mouth out with tears in my eyes. Eric was still laughing when I got back to bed, panting for air and fanning my tongue.
“You laugh now but you won’t later when I won’t kiss you.” I glared at him.
“Sookie, you know me.” He shook his head.
Yes, I did. “Sometimes I think you order it like that so I won’t steal it.”
Eric snorted and said, “Not at all, but you know how I order it and you still do that every single time.”
He was right but that didn’t stop me from glaring at him. I moved my foot to kick him under the covers and I hit a button on the remote, flipping us over to E!, where they were doing one of their Hollywood gossip shows. A story about Lindsay Lohan’s legal woes was just ending and I was shocked to see Eric’s face flash on the screen.
“After the break, one of Hollywood’s most well known bachelors was spotted in New York today-” I didn’t get to hear the rest of what Ryan Seacrest was saying because Eric changed the channel.
“Wh…Eric, put that back on!” I tried to grab the remote from him but he wouldn’t give it. “Eric!”
“It’s gossip, Sookie.” He rolled his eyes.
“Uh huh… and why were cameras following you today if you were in meetings?” I stared at him. Something was definitely up.
“Who knows.” He shrugged.
“Eric, I know something’s going on with you. You’ve been weird ever since we got here.” Again, I was met with silence. I was getting really tired of this. “Fine. Well, when you decide you want to talk to me, come find me. I’ll be in the tub.”
I dropped what was left of my orange chicken into the trash and then locked myself in the bathroom.
It was completely immature and extremely annoying, but Eric and I were locked in a game of Tight Lip. We were giving one another the silent treatment, speaking only when absolutely necessary. There was no flirting in the morning or attempts to talk one another into the shower. We didn’t have lingering conversations about where to go for dinner that night or what time we thought we might make it back to the hotel. In fact, I barely said goodbye to him before going to Pam’s office.
I was in a bit of a mood all day as a result. There were no cutesie text messages exchanged, no whispered phone calls to make promises of dirty things to come. Hell, I’d even settle for one of his goofy emails with some stupid knock-knock joke that would make me smile and roll my eyes. We maintained absolute silence. Hearing Lindsay talk about her new boyfriend, Alcide Herveaux, wasn’t easy for me. He was an up and coming type A personality on Wall Street. He was rising fast in his company and he was falling hard for her. They had only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks and it was obvious she was over the moon about him.
The part of me that was bitter and upset about what was going on with Eric wanted to snap at her and remind her that it wouldn’t always been cow eyes and kisses. Eventually they would fight and it would be over something stupid. Or maybe this was serious. But hell, I didn’t know what we were fighting about because that big oaf wouldn’t tell me anything. But rather than bursting Lindsay’s bubble I slapped on my emergency smile and nodded along. I tried to remember all of the sweet things Eric had done for me (and it really was quite an impressive list) to keep from bursting into tears.
Lindsay and I ended up having dinner together at Telephone Bar and Grill. I got the Shepard’s Pie while Lindsay had the Fish ‘n Chips. The food was delicious and I tried not to think about Eric too much. I knew he loved this particular bar and we’d even talked about going there before we got to New York. Since the next night was our last in the city and we already had plans for dinner at El Quijote with Pam, I knew we wouldn’t be eating here before we headed back to LA. A terrible thought entered my mind about half way through dinner.
What if Eric was cheating on me? I know, I know, it sounds far fetched but it would explain why he’s been so secretive and weird around me. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’s had more than one girlfriend at a time. And he had been spotted in New York doing something that was newsworthy. I dropped my fork on my plate and dug my iPhone out of my purse.
“Sookie, are you okay? You look like you’re gonna be sick.” Lindsay stared at me with concern.
I didn’t answer her. Instead I Googled my boyfriend’s name. A whole slew of links came up in response. The first was to his corporate website, the second to a fan club left over from his modeling days. Then, finally, there was a link to the video that had been captured the day before while he was walked around the city. He’d said he was meeting with Mr. Cataliades but his office was on the Upper West Side. Eric was caught in the Diamond District. I about dropped my phone.
“Sookie?” Lindsay’s eyes were as big as saucers when she nudged me.
“Lindsay, I’m really sorry but I have to cut this short.” I reached into my purse again for some cash.
“Are you okay?” Lindsay grabbed my hand in attempts to slow me down a little.
“No, I’m not okay, but I will be. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I promised her and then dropped some money on the table before hightailing it out of the bar.
I had no idea where Eric was or when he’d get back to the hotel. When I called his cell it went straight to voicemail. I told myself he was probably just in a meeting but I didn’t know what the hell to think. I walked back to Hotel Chelsea to wait for him. Our room was empty when I got back and it took all the will power I had not to ransack our room to look for evidence of what he’d been doing in the Diamond District.
I wanted to watch the video again but I needed wifi for that and the only place to get internet in the hotel was in the lobby. I wanted to be in the room when Eric got back. I paced and paced for as long as I could. I called him twice. The first time the call went straight to voicemail. The second he just didn’t pick up. I didn’t know if I should be angry or scared. Eventually my nerves and emotions just wore me the fuck out and I fell asleep.
It barely registered when Eric fell into bed beside me. He didn’t pull me closer like he usually did, nor did I roll over to snuggle up to his side. There was a lot of empty space between us and the wedge we’d created with our silence was only pushing us further apart.
When I woke up the next morning Eric was already gone. I spent a good ten minutes crying in bed before forcing myself to shower and go meet Lindsay. It was my last day in New York and there were still lots of things to cover. We worked diligently, placing orders through a service for sandwiches to be delivered to the office at lunch. We ate quietly in the conference room. Lindsay was respectful enough not to get up in my personal business which only made me want to open up to her. She was an impartial observer since she didn’t really know the particulars of my relationship with Eric and had no reason to take a side. She was the perfect person to talk to.
“Lindsay, I’m sorry I freaked out and jumped ship like I did. That was really rude of me.” I apologized before plucking a potato chip from its bag.
She finished chewing and wiped her mouth. “Oh, Sookie, don’t worry about it.” She waved it off. “I knew something was bothering you all day. I assume it’s got to be man trouble.”
I gave her a slight smile. “You’d be correct.”
“Look, I um, I know it’s none of my business, but from where I’m sitting it seems like the two of you really love each other. You know those old couples who’ve been married for fifty years?” I had to hear where this was going, so I nodded that I understood. “Well that’s how you and Eric look at each other. You know, like you’re annoyed with how in love you are.”
I laughed through my nose because she wasn’t far off the mark. “We really can be gross sometimes.”
“I think it’s wonderful.” Lindsay smiled at me. “I mean, you two seem totally comfortable together. I think that’s why I like Alcide so much. We’re different people, obviously, but it’s like we’re so the same in a lot of ways. He has just as much ambition and spark in him and he understands my frustration with where I’m at. He just gets me, and it seems like maybe Eric does the same for you.”
I couldn’t disagree with her there. Eric certainly did seem to get me in a way no one else ever had. I wasn’t afraid to be myself one hundred percent, nor was I afraid to branch out and step outside my comfort zone. I knew I would always have him there to yank me back if I ever strayed too far, and he knew I would do the same for him. It dawned on me then that maybe my boyfriend wasn’t in the Diamond District picking up a token for some two bit floozy he was keeping on the side, but for a piece of jewelry he planned on giving me.
Was Eric going to propose to me? I’d always said I’d wanted it to be a surprise.
After a big dinner of sangria and lobster paella, Eric and I headed back to Hotel Chelsea for our last night in New York. No sooner had we stumbled into our room, both of us slightly buzzed from the drinks at dinner, when I pushed him back on the bed. He had a long way to fall since it was so close to the ground and his big body bounced when he made contact with the mattress. I kicked off my shoes and threw my coat to the side before lowering myself onto his lap.
“I want to call a truce.” I laced my fingers with his. “I’m tired of not talking to you. I haven’t slept in days and my morning showers have been seriously lacking in fun. So whatever it is that crawled up your ass and died, I’m just going to let it go because you obviously aren’t in the mood to share and I don’t like not talking to my best friend.”
Eric squeezed his palms to mine. “I’m not keeping a secret to hurt you, Sookie, I promise you.”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” I rocked my hips against his and felt an immediate reaction.
“What would you like to talk about?” Eric arched an eyebrow at me when I started to unbutton his shirt.
“I want to talk about how much I missed having you inside me.” I lowered myself to kiss him and when our lips met, I felt a fire light up inside me.
His hands were at my back, unzipping my dress. He peeled the sleeves down my arms and pulled the material away from my chest. He sat up long enough to pull off his shirt before I pushed him back down. My skirt was up around my waist and his fingers delved into my panties to see how ready I was for him. I’d been thinking about jumping him since half way through dinner. I was more than ready. I’d come to conclusion that the silence had to end and if he wasn’t going to be the one to do it, then I would. I’d had enough.
I got his pants open and his erection sprang free. He pushed my panties to the side and I impaled myself on him. My hips rocked against his almost violently, both of us needing to feel that connection to each other. It had only been a few days but it was too long. In spite of my last words, neither of us said much aside from one another’s names as we moved together. Eric pulled my dress up over my head before rolling us over. I used my feet to get his pants farther down when my arms weren’t long enough. He managed to get them the rest of the way off and then hooked my knees, pushing them closer to my chest.
The change in position had him hitting my sweet spot with every thrust of his hips. He lowered his head to mine and sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. My hands settled on his shoulders before pulling him closer, scratching his back as I did so. His lips moved from mine to my neck, scraping his teeth against my skin in time with his fevered thrusts. The tight coil of pressure that had been tightening in my stomach over the course of the last few days was dangerously close to springing loose. Warmth radiated through my body and I could feel a scream building in my throat.
He pushed my knees up a little higher and as a result, he was able to rub against my clit when he thrusted into me. I was done for. I cried out, clutching at him when I came. I bit his shoulder, holding onto him for dear life when my orgasm rocked me. Light exploded behind my eyes, wiping out everything else in the world except for his face. He pounded into me a few more times before I felt him swell inside of me and release with one last thrust and that me crying out as an aftershock tore through me. He collapsed on top of me, both of us breathing hard.
He released my legs, only for them to wrap around his waist instead, holding him close to me. I stroked his hair while he kissed my neck and face. I didn’t want to let him go but I eventually had to. He went to the bathroom to get a washcloth to clean up a little bit while I just laid there trying to regain my composure.
No sooner was he done cleaning me up than I was pulling him back to me. “More.” I took the cloth from his hands and tossed it to the side.
“As you wish.” I smirked and then attacked me with kisses.