We wake to Eric's ringtone "You Are My Sunshine."
He leans onto the floor near his jeans and pushes a button. Pam is loud and clear on speaker phone.
"Sorry to interrupt you", Pam hisses as if she isn't sorry at all. "But it's after 10, I've been up for almost 4 hours. We need to get home, Eric."
"Inte nu", he yells back, and hangs up.
I chuckle, half asleep. "I guess it was nice of her not to barge in."
Wow, we'd slept for 16 hours. I knew he'd needed it.
I start to move, and he won't let me, weighing me down with a powerful leg, and wrapping my arms around him while he buries his head between my left breast and my underarm.
"Eric", I say.
He reaches up and covers my mouth with his hand. He's going to be lucky if I don't bite him.
"Eric."
"Go back to sleep", he murmurs.
I don't want to part either. This has never happened before.
But I have to pee. I move away from him again, and he tightens his grip again.
"Human needs", I say, and he growls.
He lets me go. In the bathroom, I study my neck in the mirror. He sealed up every wound but one. I have two fang marks right below my ear on the right side. You'd have to look hard to see them, but he'd left them for a reason. I had a feeling he's officially "marked" me as his.
When I come back into the room, his face is buried in my pillow. He reaches out his hand and says "Come."
"What am I going to do with you?" I ask, my heart warm.
I take his hand and join him in bed. He pulls me against him and wraps two long, muscular arms around me. He cuddles me, and then kisses my cheek. "Go to sleep", he murmurs.
It was an amazing feeling. Eric Northman was spooning me.
I feel bad for Pam downstairs, but not bad enough to move.
In about another hour, I wake up again.
"Half the night is gone, honey", I whisper to him.
"I know", he says. Apparently he'd been awake for a while. "I just don't want to move."
He kisses my shoulder. "You really are beautiful."
"Thank you", I say, kissing his forearm, which is right in front of my face as he holds me tight.
"Pam", I say. "She's been waiting forever."
"Pam", he says, "Hopefully is smart enough to have gone to Fangtasia without me. Hopefully somebody is running the place."
I climb out of bed, and yank his arm. "Up", I say.
"No", he complains.
"Up", I repeat yanking harder, but know I'd need a bulldozer to move him if he didn't want to be moved.
This time he gets up. And grabs me into a kiss….I stand on my tiptoes to reach his lips, but he doesn't seem to be in the mood to bend down, and just picks me up.
"Mmmmm, you're delicious", he says, and puts me down.
I'm looking him over. I can't help myself. He has the body of an underwear model.
"Your butt…is so perfect", I say. It's perfectly shaped, firm, but plump enough to be completely squeezable. So that's just what I do.
He feigns modesty, and gives me a shy, shocked look. "Miss Stackhouse…are you putting your hands on me?"
"Oooh yes", I say. Squeeze, then pat. Squeeze, then pat.
"You really do want to get back into this bed don't you?" he asks, and I try to run away. He catches me around the waist.
We're happy. Just like two normal people in love. Things like this don't happen to me. I'll think I'm happy for a minute, and then something snatches it away. And then someone dies.
"What happened, just now?" he asks, studying my face worriedly. "Where did you go?"
"I'm sorry, I get a little maudlin sometimes, but we're havin fun, we're together, and that's all that matters", I say.
"Let's wash all that away", he says, and picks me up in his arms.
"Oooh, another shower", I say.
"Eh, I have something else in mind", he says.
"Like?"
"I've always been a bath person", he says.
"How did I know that was true?" I say with a laugh, "You seem like the type to lay around worshippin yourself."
"Heyyy!" he says, and sounds wounded.
He puts me down in the bathroom, plugs up the drain, and turns on the water.
All 6'4 of magnificent naked Eric Northman gets in the tub and sits down.
"Here",he says and hands me my vanilla body wash.
"Here what?" I ask.
He lays back and closes his eyes. "In my time and country, it was the custom for a woman to wash her man from head to foot. It was considered a gesture of respect and love." He hands me a sponge.
"Are you shittin me?" I ask.
"No, I'm not "shittin you", Miss Stackhouse", he says. "The water is a little too cold."
I stare at him agape. "This is America….we don't do things like that", I insist.
"Maybe that's part of your problem", he says, turning the hot water faucet himself.
"So you weren't gonna lay around and worship yourself, you want me to do it?" I ask.
"Fine, nevermind", he says, holding his hand out for the sponge. I'd never known him to give up so fast.
"No, no, not yet, now", I say, "You've intrigued me."
He opens an eye long enough to lift an eyebrow.
"Intrigued you? Why does that worry me?" he asks.
"Oh hush."
I take the sponge and dip it into water, squirting body wash on it, and lathering it up.
I put a towel on the floor and kneel on it behind him, sudsing up his shoulders. I take my shirt off, it's just gonna get wet.
His muscles are hard and lean beneath his skin and I massage the thick muscles in his shoulders, then move to his neck.
I stop for no more than an instant and he says, "Keep going. You have no idea how that feels."
I massage the soap in circles down his back. He leans forward so I can get all the way down.
He leans back, and I try to move down his body.
"Don't forget my hair", he says.
Of course not. How silly of me.
"Shampoo", I say. He doesn't move. I stretch around him and get it myself.
He's trying to hide the ghost of a sarcastic smile. I might hit him.
"Dunk yourself", I say.
"Do I have to do everything?" he protests, but dunks down and wets his hair.
I take the shampoo and suds his hair up. This is so bizarre. When I babysat the little neighbor girl when she was 5 was the last time I'd washed somebody's hair for them.
But…as I massage his scalp, he goes lax in the water, and makes "mmmm" sounds.
I make sure every strand is clean, then start rubbing down his arms.
"Dunk", I say.
He dunks down to wash it out.
I squeeze more soap onto the sponge and move down each long, muscular arm. His muscles are like rubber bands stretched lean down his arms. I lift one long arm in the air, and wash the underside and his armpit.
I have to stretch over the tub to get to the other arm.
I wash down his chest, his abs, making sure I feel every plane of perfect flesh. He smiles smugly.
But, by now, I see the uh…merit, in this activity. It's slow, it takes a long time. It builds. And it's sensual for both of us. I'm wet too, in a whole lotta ways.
Maybe appreciating him isn't such a bad idea. "This was to show love and respect?" I ask.
"Yes, it was expected", he says, eyes still closed. "Especially for a warrior returned from battle."
"And did you get…this muscle…in battle?" I ask, running my hand down his chest.
"Probably", he confirms, trying not to smile.
I wash down his groin and he flinches a little. I reach around to his perfect ass.
"I think that's washed sufficiently by now", he jabs, and I stick my tongue out.
I wash down his legs, and between each toe, and the soles of his feet.
"I think you forgot something", he says.
"I didn't forget, I saved the best for last", I say and he squirms a little.
I suds my hands up with soap and take all of him in my hands. I wash very, very thoroughly, in and around every corner. When I take Mr. Excited himself in my hands, Eric is already moving and making little noises.
From root to tip, I wash him over and over. He starts moaning and gasping. Finally he gasps loudly and explodes into my hands. I make sure to suds him up again and wash him clean.
"Now was that so bad?" he asks.
I laugh. "I should be asking if you enjoyed it", I say.
"Hmm, I dunno", he says as I try to stand up.
"Where do you think you're going?" he says, pulling me into the tub on top of him.
"You're gettin me all wet!" I yell.
"I'm just showing my gratitude", he says, pulling me into a kiss. "This is…." He kisses me on the tip of my nose, "The best bath I ever had."
"Well, I'm glad to hear it, but I'm sure it's one among many", I say. He frowns.
"No, I've never done this before…not since I was…alive", he says.
"Now how is that possible?" I ask, "You've been with so many women…"
"I didn't want to do this with any of them. I've never slept with a woman either", he says.
"Now you're puttin me on", I say.
"No, it's true. The girls I was with when I was alive were mostly servants. Willing wenches, but not anybody I literally slept with. And after I was made vampire…obviously, a vampire generally sleeps alone in a coffin, even in a relationship. I never liked other vamps much anyway. Cold, heartless, unfeeling…" he says, and I roll my eyes. " I greatly prefer humans", he says, kissing my ear. "Particularly when they blush as beautifully as you do. But naturally, our schedules don't mesh, and most cubbies are too uncomfortable for a human to want to spend much time in. Except for mine of course, which you doubtless remember."
"So you never slept in a bed, like a normal person…with anyone?" I ask.
"Nope", he says.
"Hmmm", I say, and then it hits me. Just how special I am to him. How much he loves me.
"Outta there", I say, climbing out of the tub and tugging on his arm.
I dry him with a fluffy white towel.
"You smell so fresh, and warm, and clean, I want you right back in my bed", I say.
He leans down, cups my chin, and kisses me gently.
"I can't believe you're finally mine", he says.
I turn around to pick up the towel.
"We might as well make it official. You're mine, right?"
"We're together, of course", I say, crossing my fingers he doesn't notice the difference.
"Yes, but that's not what I asked. You're mine, right? Say you're mine", he insists.
I walk away.
He grabs my arm and I squeeze my eyes closed.
"I'm sorry Eric, I won't agree to that."
