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Chapter Ten
Round Two was just as wonderful- if not as better- as the first time.
I discovered he was very talented with his mouth, and he did something to me that I'd never experienced before. Bill wasn't keen on doing it, but Eric seemed all for my pleasure.
"Bill wouldn't ever have done that with his mouth..." I began to say afterwards, but then trailed off, nervously. Poor Eric. Last thing he probably wanted was to have to hear me rant and rave about my ex-boyfriend and all the faults in our relationship. But it was already far too late, and he had heard it clearly.
"Bill?"
"You know, my ex-boyfriend you met when you came into Merlotte's with me." I felt an uneasy smile slip into place on my lips.
"Did you... love him?"
"Yes," I replied, without hesitation. "I did. He was... the first real boyfriend I ever had, and I felt I loved him so much. But things just got too complicated, in the end. I couldn't deal with him being away. I'm a girl who needs a man whose there for her. A man who she can lean on, in times of need." I laughed to myself pitifully. "Hell, I'm probably just being needy. But there isn't anything wrong with wanting someone to be there for you, is there?"
"I... I don't think so," he murmured uncertainly.
"Exactly." I felt better now that I had someone who agreed with me- even if that person probably couldn't entirely understand all that I was telling him. It just felt nice to have Eric around; Not only because he was great in bed, but because he was great company to be around. He didn't seem to care what I said. He just... listened, and seemed as if he enjoyed my voice, no matter what I said. It was wonderful. "And then, when he asked me to move with him, miles away from home..." I shivered in annoyance. "I couldn't ever expect that of somebody I loved. I could never ask them to move away from their family. Exactly in the same way I'd never ask you to stay in my world forever, just because I enjoy being around you so much. It just doesn't seem fair. It seems selfish, you know? Does that seem fair to you? I mean, I wouldn't-" Halfway through my rambling conversation, I heard him give out an odd, choking noise.
A wet stream of tears were trickling down his cheeks.
"Oh," I whispered, startled. "Did I... say something wrong?" I sure hoped I didn't, but the pitiable look on his face wasn't all that reassuring to me to confirm that I hadn't. I had definitely put my foot in it somehow. "Honey, I never meant to make you upset!" I ran my fingers through his thick hair, mighty pleased that he didn't recoil over the motherly gesture brought on by his crying. "What's wrong, Eric?"
"I don't think I want to go," he said quietly, after a moment. There was a lot of reluctance to admit that to me.
"Go where, honey?"
"Home. It won't be the same anymore."
"How do you know? You might feel sad now, but soon as you get back, you might feel happy again."
"But there won't be you," he mumbled strongly, and he ran his fingertips down my cheek. I wished he wouldn't have. It was hard enough to hold a conversation as it was, with him being naked in my bed, and myself being naked. "There won't be you in it with me, and I enjoy you immensely."
I sighed sadly. Somehow, I knew this talk was coming. Too bad it was now, and I wasn't prepared for it. What on earth was I supposed to say? Was I supposed to tell him that maybe I didn't want him to go, either? That it wouldn't be the same without his company? That I loved how curious he was about everything, and about how I would miss having sex with him, and his glorious body, when he could be so attentive and caring? Men like him just didn't exist in my world, and I got lucky in getting to spend some time with this one. But something told me it wasn't the right thing to say, as much as I would have liked to admit it. It would have only been setting us up for more trouble.
He was obviously waiting for me to say something. His eyes were wide and glistening, as they watched my face carefully. "Well, I enjoy you, too, Eric," I said, a bit embarrassed to admit it. "I really do, and I'm going to miss you, too."
"I enjoy every part of you," he breathed, in an extremely earnest way. "Every entire part of you. You're above and beyond my expectations of Earth Women." And I had to smile at that; It was very nice he thought so. "I enjoy experiencing you, as we make love. I enjoy the way your body responds to me. I enjoy your kindness, and your decency."
I waved all that away with a hand, flushing.
"I wish I could return with you by my side," he said bleakly, and then fresh tears rolled down his cheeks, and his entire shoulders shook. My heart broke, because maybe his words hit home. Maybe I would have liked to go with him, too? It would be like going on a holiday, and experiencing an entire different way of life. But I also knew it was unrealistic, and silly to think that way. I couldn't get my hopes up, because I knew it wasn't possible. "I wish I could bring you back to my lands, and eventually, when father passes, I would be hailed new King, and you would be my Goddess Queen. And we would make love every hour or so, and I would cherish you, and-" He was starting to get medieval on my butt, and it was very charming of him. But more than charming, it was heart-wrenching, and I had to stop it by pressing my fingers against his lips to stop his talking, before he did even more damage to my already aching ovaries.
"Eric," I said quietly, after a nervous pause. "Please don't be saying all this terribly sweet stuff to me. It's like I told you."
"Why not?" He always seemed perfectly happy deliberately forgetting the reason I didn't want to hear it.
"Because soon you'll have to go, and I think I'm already..." I hesitated, feeling extremely nervous. And hopefully, he waited for me to finish in patience. I guessed he really wanted to hear what I was trying to say. "I think I already am starting to have... feelings for you, and that makes it hard." I clasped my hands in my lap, and peered down at them. It was easier than having to look at him.
He was silent in astonishment for an awfully long moment, and then, without warning, he chuckled deeply. He sounded extremely relieved, for some reason. I felt my lips pull down in confusion. "I have feelings for you, also. From the beginning." He touched one of my hands gently with his own, stroking my knuckles with his fingers. Unlike me, he seemed very happy and carefree in telling me that. "When I first clapped eyes on you, I felt like a changed man." I closed my eyes tightly. When were the sweet words ever going to end? He gave out a soft whimper, and I knew he was crying again. "And when you invited me into this home of yours, I felt overwhelmed with joy. You don't judge me."
What gives me right to judge, though?
"I have enjoyed your teachings." His voice went all deep and dangerously raspy, like he was aroused. "Particularly learning how Earth Women's bodies are different, from the women in my world."
"Well, I enjoyed that, too. I enjoyed all that exploring in the shower with you." But he surely knew that; I mean, surely my body gave me away. "But... I also think it was incredibly wrong of me. It shouldn't have happened, really."
"You regret making love?" he asked, sounding shocked.
"Kind of." I felt my frown settle back into place. "Maybe. Not... really," I admitted slowly. "But I don't think we should let it happen again, all right?" I steeled myself, before I turned to look at him, very seriously. He was looking at me a bit like I was talking in tongues. "It was amazing, and I loved every minute of it with you. But it just complicates things, and I think we should try not to do it again."
"But I do want to do it again with you." And I could tell so, when he made a point of showing me. He took my hand in his, and guided it underneath the covers. He sure was ready to go. I guessed it didn't help much when I was lounging around naked in bed with him.
"Well, we're going to have to try not to, all right?" My voice failed me, because I sure did want to again. "That also means that you're going to have to wear clothes every minute of the day. It certainly doesn't help when you're walking around, like a GQ model with that body of yours."
"Ah. So you enjoy my body?" He grinned broadly, and I was learning something about his smile tended to make me weak in the knees. And not to mention weak with determination. I was already so close to giving in.
"I do." I laughed nervously, and looked down again shyly, trying to hide my face. "I enjoy the look, and the feel of it. But no more, all right? You have to wear clothes. No exceptions. Well, maybe one exception to that rule is when you're in the shower, of course."
"We do not wear clothes in my world." It seemed like he felt that was something vital to point out to me, and I got a very startling imagery of all these naked people, men and women, of different ages, waltzing around with their privates proudly on show. "We have nothing to hide. We are not afraid of our bodies. Here, in your world, it seems to be the case. You all conceal your bodies."
I imagined how odd it would be if I just turned up to Merlotte's one evening naked.
"I don't think it's because any of us are ashamed," I pointed out, a bit surprised we were having this conversation. "There are just certain standards and ways of being in my world. Every culture is different, I guess." I trekked through my cloudy thoughts and tried to steer the conversation back into the right direction. "As much as you must love being naked, and I know it's probably confortable for you not to be wearing clothes, I'd very much appreciate it if you did try to adopt the ways of living in my world."
"For you, anything," he shrugged, sounding like he meant it. But he also sounded a bit upset on the idea.
"So, no more sex from now on," I said, trying to sound firm and strong on that. "And no more naked bodies, neither."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Starting now."
He jerked a bit, taken aback. "Now?"
"Yes, now. Let's go." And reluctantly, I might as well admit, I climbed out of my warm and inviting bed and went over to the door, to where my night-gown was hanging on the rack. I slipped it over my head, and pulled it down over my body. Somehow, I felt stronger in doing this. Eric was simply sitting on the bed, watching me. "You too," I urged him brightly. "Chop, chop."
Much to my dismay, I couldn't help that I stared a little hungrily at his gorgeous butt, when he got to his feet and stepped into his jeans, pulling them up. No underwear. And then, he flopped back down onto my bed on his stomach, deciding that jeans were more than enough clothes for him for the time being. I had half a mind of telling him to put on his shirt, too, but then he looked very happy shirtless, so I decided against it. He still looked tempting as sin, though.
I crawled next to him on the bed, resting my elbows on the mattress to support myself. Instantly, I felt a whole lot better about everything. Obviously, it was one-sided, though; He started crying again, and it was unnerving silent tears that worried me. He was all teary tonight.
"You think I'm weak now for being like this," he muttered bitterly, half-wail, half normal talking voice.
"You better stop talking that way, Fairy-Boy, or else I'm kicking you out of bed and you can go straight to the couch again." I had only meant it as a joke, I was simply being silly, but clearly Eric couldn't differentiate between me being light-hearted or serious. He stared at me fretfully with wide, moist eyes.
What was it with men assuming women would feel disappointed if they showed their emotions like the human beings they were?
Even with Bill, he would rather be caught in women's skimpy underwear than ever show his vulnerable side to me. It was ridiculous. One hurtful thing that haunted me with Bill, even to this day, was how he reacted the first and only time he ever allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of me. I had attended his late father's funeral with him, when we started seeing each other, for support. When he broke down crying, I had only wanted to comfort him, as loving and supportive girlfriend to lean on; I had reached out, and hugged him, and his reaction to that wounded me deeply at the time. In fact, it still stung a bit. He had simply shook my arm off, and told me he was fine, when clearly, he wasn't. I think it was the fact he couldn't accept my sympathy, that hurt the most. I just couldn't understand why men were afraid of letting themselves become vulnerable, in front of others. A real man showed his soft side, and there wasn't anything at all wrong with that. In fact, I found it rather lovely.
"A real man cries, and shows his feelings," I said strongly, after a moment. "I find that beautiful."
He was quiet for a very long moment, and I watched as he slowly closed his eyes, content in what my hand was doing to his hair. His hair was enviably soft. I thought he said he didn't have shampoo in his Fairy world?
"Your hair is so soft," I said, awed, unable to contain my appreciation. "I don't know what you use in your Fairy world, but your hair is in super great condition." And then it occurred to me it was probably a bit strange, trying to talk about the condition of his hair and attempting to coax him into wheedling out his beauty secrets, of all things.
I thought he was thinking over what I said, very carefully. "You're only saying that to make me feel better," he muttered vehemently. "Children cry. I am a man." And at that, he sat up against the pillows and hurriedly wiped his eyes with his fingers. He gave out a loud sniffle, shook himself, then tried to make himself look manly, with a fierce and stern look that could melt ice.
"You're the most amazing and interesting man I've ever met," I admitted, a little hesitantly. I wasn't sure it was the right thing to say or not, but tough titties. It was the truth, in my eyes, anyhow. "And seeing you crying isn't going to change that. I meant what I said; I love a man who isn't afraid to cry in front of me. I love a man to be in touch with his feelings, I honestly do."
"I would very much like to kiss you," he whispered hoarsely, after a moment. And I very much would have liked that, too. But it kind of defeated the purpose of our entire conversation here. I knew where it would lead to, and that wasn't something I wanted.
He bent in towards my lips, and it took all my will-power to fight him off. I laid my hand on his chest, feeling how tightly tackled his muscles were. "Let's go to sleep instead," I said, before he could do it.
"But I am not sleepy. I would like to make love with my Earth Woman."
"Well, I am," I said petulantly, though I wasn't. It was a whopping big lie, but luckily I sounded convincing enough. "Goodnight." And, at that, I turned on my side and switched off my night lamp. It felt less tempting, when we were clothed in darkness and I couldn't see him. But when he scooted over and wrapped his arm around my neck, pulling me in, I felt that desire and want stir within. His other hand cupped my left breast through the flimsy fabric of my satin nightgown. "You stop that," I warned, and I swear I felt him shake silently in laughter.
I fell asleep with a big grin on my face, because though I warned him, his hand did not move from my breast, almost as if it had reached home and never wanted to leave it.
When I woke the next morning, I woke to an empty bed, which was the very last thing I was expecting. I was starting to panic, wondering where Eric had gotten off to. But then I had to sort of tell myself that he was an old man, and that, surely, he could take care of himself and not get into some mischief.
To my astonishment, I found Eric outside in my yard, busying himself with gardening. I never knew a man would willingly do stuff like pulling out weeds, without at least some positive reinforcement. It certainly took my brother a lot of pestering for him to mow the lawn in Gran's yard. But Eric looked as if he was enjoying himself. Maybe it was an oddity to Fairies, though? Perhaps they had green thumbs, and naturally loved nature?
I folded my arms over my chest, shivering in my night-gown as I watched him. For a moment I stood there on the porch, watching him, while he was distracted in pulling out weeds; He was still shirtless from last night, but he had his worn pair of jeans on, thankfully. Somehow, I felt he needed that extra bit of cloth covering his chest. His biceps would flex marvellously every time he brought out a yellowed weed growing away by the front steps of the porch.
Eventually, once he noticed me standing around, he looked so pleased to see me. It was a bit disarming, really. Here, I have this gorgeous guy, who thought I was the best thing since sliced bread- when I sure as hell wasn't. I didn't know where to look, when he paused from yanking out weeds to climb up the steps to greet me. His pale, toned skin was bathed in a sheen of glistening sweat, and he had smears of dirt everywhere on him. He definitely needed a shirt; Those jeans hung off his pelvis in that delightful way that turned any woman into mush.
He wiped his dirty hands on the side of his jeans and came at me, his breathing ragged. I knew what he wanted to do, and I wasn't hardly in the right frame of mind to stop him. "Good morning, Sookie," he whispered, sounding very pleased to see me. And then he bent down and kissed me. He was a wonderful kisser. It felt like cruel torture, because I knew I couldn't let us do anything.
When I backed away from his lips like a good girl, I felt breathless. "It certainly is now," I murmured, my voice slow and breathy.
"Yes, it is, isn't it?" And he wasn't showing that he knew I meant it was great because of him kissing me, and looking all dirty and sweaty- and yummy. "Sunlight. Warmth, and Sookie. Beautiful."
Those wonderful hands were dangling at his sides uselessly, while he looked out into the morning sunlight with admiration. I could think of plenty things I wanted those hands to do to me. I wanted them on me, despite they were dirty. And then, I pursed my lips, and forced myself to move out of harm's way. I went inside and went straight upstairs, determined at once on finding him a shirt.
I searched around the old chest of drawers absent mindedly for old clothes for Eric to wear. Clothes, that were mostly Jason's. Buying clothes for a man wasn't something I'd ever had to do before. Even when I was with Bill, he'd get angry and demand I not buy him any clothes, because it made him feel personally as if I was attempting to take control of his life. I was hoping Eric wouldn't mind, but it was either that, or he'd probably be found stumbling naked somewhere in a busy street, inviting himself in for trouble.
Eric pinched my butt through my nightgown, and laughed mischievously into my ear breathlessly from behind me. It gave me the fright of my life, because I hadn't noticed him pop in behind me. I whirled around to fix a stern look on him, crossing my arms. "What did I say to you last night?"
He immediately stopped laughing, chided, and looked down at the floor. I could tell he was still trying to hide a grin, though. "No... no sex?" he rumbled uncertainly.
"Exactly."
"But this isn't making love." His expression was like a sigh. "This is... playful."
"And if I recall correctly, you stepping in on me in the shower was meant to be playful yesterday morning," I teased, flapping my arms around helplessly. "And now, look where that got us." It turned me into a dreadfully horny hostess. His eyes shined brightly as he eyed me, disappointed. And then he stepped slowly closer to me, and those hands clasped my face.
"I want to."
"All right. Say it with me. " I tried to sound real fierce, and confident, for the both of us. Somebody had to be here. "No more sex from now on. It's hardly what you would call productive."
He sighed heavily, and looked, oddly enough, like a child being scolded when being caught out with their hand in the cookie jar by an adult, and getting silently petulant because they were that close to getting a bite of that delicious cookie. "No more sex," he said, slowly and mechanically. I knew his heart wasn't completely in it. Truth be told, neither was mine.
I had enjoyed having sex with Eric. But I also was very aware that now I felt a bit funny around him. Boundaries had been crossed- boundaries that probably shouldn't have, in the first place, but hey, I'm a woman, I have my weaknesses- and now everytime I so much as looked at him, I automatically thought back to how wonderful he was, in the bedroom department. Or, should it probably be the carpet department? I couldn't say I would ever dream of having sex on the carpet, rather than my nice and cosy bed. But I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and I was presuming he did, too, since he had been so keen for repercussions after yesterday's sessions.
But I had to be responsible. I had a job to do, in helping him find this portal. Sex wasn't included in that. It didn't help that he was so damn irresistable to me, though, and he didn't even know it.