I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes, and Eric seemed to sense them, pulling back so that he could stare down at me, his eyes full of wonder. His hand came up to caress my cheek, and he kissed me again, his lips so soft. They were a perfect counterpoint to the almost violent thrusts that he was still using to rock my body.
Suddenly, he slowed down, until I could feel the perfect glide of his member inside of me, until I could register his weight pressing down on me. The air was pregnant with the words that we both wanted to say. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I didn't say the words yet, but I felt them, and I wondered if he could feel them too. Something about this told me that he could: the sensual drag of his fingers down my sides, the reverent look in his eyes, the way he focused on giving me exactly what I needed. The way that he somehow knew exactly what I needed, just like he'd known that I needed this weekend away, just like he'd known how to comfort me the night that Mom had died.
Somehow, he seemed to have an innate grasp on my psyche. I remembered how he said that he felt like we were right for one another, and I smiled.
“What are you smiling about?” Eric whispered.
“I love you.” The words slipped out thoughtlessly, without conscious direction from my brain.
Eric's eyes widened fractionally, and I prepared to take them back, to say that I hadn't meant them but that I was just so caught up in these feelings. But before I could, his expression melted into a smile. “I love you too,” he said, punctuating the words with a few sharp thrusts that had me spiraling over the edge for the second time.
I moaned, fingers clenching desperately against his arms as I came for what felt like an eternity, my walls shuddering around his length. He came as well, and in that perfect moment, I couldn't tell where I ended, and he began, or even if there were an end and a beginning between us. We were suspended there, in bliss and harmony. Our fingers twisted together, and I smiled as I opened my eyes.
Eric groaned as he pulled out of me and flopped to the side. I immediately rolled toward him, snuggling close, putting my head on his chest. I held my breath, hoping that this was okay and that he had meant everything that he had said.
Not that I thought that he would lie about it, but at the same time, this was a big shift in our relationship. A week ago, I could never have expected this.
To my relief, Eric maneuvered his arm so that it was around my shoulders, pulling me even closer. I exhaled heavily. “Relax,” he murmured. He cracked a grin at me. “I give it about 10 minutes before I'm ready to go again.”
I blinked up at him and then giggled. “You act like it's been weeks since we slept together,” I said.
“It has been weeks,” Eric said gravely. “Weeks since I made love to you.”
My breath caught in my throat, and I realized that there was still part of me that was worried he had just said that he loved me in the heat of the moment, in a flood of passion.
I aimlessly traced patterns on his chest, trying to think of a way to say what I was thinking. “I meant it, you know,” I said quietly. “I love you.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Eric said, holding me close. “I meant it too. I love you. I've known that ever since I thought I lost you to Buck.”
I stared up at him in surprise and then surged up to kiss him, hardly daring to believe it, but it resonated between us, and I knew it was true.
I settled back against his side, a smile on my face. Then, I yawned.
Eric laughed. “I think you probably need a nap before we go for another round,” he remarked, pulling the blankets up around us.
I pouted, but I knew that he was right. “I love you,” I whispered again as I drifted off to sleep. I knew it was sappy, and I didn't want to say it too much, to make it seem meaningless. But I couldn't help it: I wanted to say it over and over, to make sure that he believed it.
For what it was worth, Eric didn't seem tired of hearing it yet. Instead, he leaned down and kissed me lightly on the forehead. “Love you too,” he murmured.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Eric
Two weeks later, it was time for Olivia's first ultrasound. I felt silly for being nervous about it, but there I was. I had made an appointment for us with one of the top gynecologists in the area, using an old connection that I had made in grad school and calling in a couple of favors. I wanted to make sure that she had the best of everything during this pregnancy.
Olivia laughed, not for the first time. “It's going to be fine,” she said as I glanced over at her from the driver's seat of the car. “I don't know why you insisted on coming all the way to Chicago for this anyway. We could have just gone to see Dr. Lazaro. Anyway, we already know the baby is happy and healthy; I'd be able to feel if there was something wrong. But right now, everything feels right.”
I loved the emphasis that she placed on that last word. Everything did feel right, that was the thing. I could never have imagined it would feel this right.
That wasn't to say that things hadn't felt right with Emily as well, but things had been different with her. Our love had been quieter, more self-contained. With Olivia, it felt all-consuming, a powerful fire ready to catch us up in the heat of passion at any moment. Maybe it was just that our relationship was so new, but I had to hope that this feeling would never die.
“We could have gone to Dr. Lazaro,” I agreed, shaking those other thoughts out of my head. The truth was, I hadn't told Olivia the real reason that I wanted to take her into the city: I had plans for us that night. I'd gotten us a reservation at a fancy restaurant for dinner, and I'd booked us into one of the city's nicest hotels for the night. Emma was excited to stay over at Christina's house for the night, a novelty for the young girl.
Olivia and I had been on a few dates already, over the past few weeks, but I wanted to do something special for her. I still kept trying to come up with ways to show her how much I loved her, buying her flowers and giving her gentle massages and making sure that she was comfortable in bed with me.
Not that I thought she was worried about it. She had spent nearly every night at my house that week, and things were going well for us. We had initially said, at the B&B when we'd finally gotten around to talking about what this meant for our relationship, that we didn't want to rush into anything. But neither of us seemed able to stay away from the other.