Now that he’d had this little talk with himself and adjusted his romantic expectations, Erick closed his eyes and felt at peace with the universe—calm, relaxed and happy.
“You’re smiling,” Clover said. He smiled wider.
“I am.”
“Do I want to know why?”
“Just happy,” he said. “Where are you?’
“On the stairs. I’m coming down. Just stay there.”
“I’m naked. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” she said. “Because you’re exactly where I want you.”
“And I’m exactly where I want to be.”
“Really?”
Erick opened his eyes and found Clover standing by the side of the bed.
In the ten minutes she’d been gone in the bathroom upstairs, she had transformed herself from her usual natural beauty in jeans, turtleneck and a fleece pullover to a goddess in white lingerie. She wore a white lace-and-silk gown that clung to her every curve and stopped at the top of her thighs, with matching white lace panties underneath. She’d taken her hair out of her usual standard-issue ponytail, parted it down the center and curled it so that it lay in soft waves past her shoulders. He couldn’t think of a word to describe her. Even the word beautiful seemed inadequate in her presence. Exquisite? Elegant? A goddess? He’d go with that one.
“You look like a goddess,” he said.
“I feel ridiculous. Like it?”
He took her by the hand and pulled her down gently to the bed. He kissed her, pushed her onto her back on the sheets and slid on top of her, nothing between them but lace.
“I don’t like it at all,” he said, pushing his erection into her. “I love it. When did you buy this?” He hoped she’d say today, that she bought it just for him, but he had a feeling that wasn’t the case.
“After my surgery I went on a shopping spree.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he kissed her neck. “I bought something I couldn’t wear before when my breasts were too big. This is it. It’s been in the back of my closet since then.”
“You’ve never worn this before?”
“Never.”
“You got it out for me?”
“I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d make myself this ridiculous for.”
“You...” He tapped the end of her nose. “You have a strange idea of ‘ridiculous.’ Why do you feel ridiculous?”
“I’m just not a lingerie type. I’m a six-pack of cotton underwear from Target kind of gal.”
“You’d be beautiful in a burlap bag, but you are insanely beautiful in lingerie. You might feel ridiculous but you don’t look ridiculous. And you shouldn’t feel ridiculous dressing up or down for me. It’s what lovers do.”
“You’d put on lingerie for me?”
“I’d put anything on for you that you wanted. Name it. If they make it in my size, I’ll wear it if it turns you on.”
“You’re wearing my favorite of all your looks right now.”
“It is pretty comfortable,” he said. “You could wear this, too.” He slipped his fingers under the strap of her gown and slowly pulled it down her arm.
“Oh, no,” she said. “I worked up the courage to put this thing on for you. I’m not about to let you take it off me until I get some use out of it.”
“How long do I have to leave it on you?”