by Janice Sims
Ana warbled along with the CD.
She’d been listening to Etta ever since she’d returned from Erik’s office. She would clean a little, dance a little and admire her ring—a lot. She couldn’t stop smiling, sometimes laughing out loud. She was glad she was alone because anyone observing her would think she was certifiably insane. She wanted to talk with someone, but she had already tried to phone her mother and the message service had come on and she had not wanted to leave a mere message about this momentous occasion. This news had to be told live, not recorded. The same thing had happened when she’d phoned Sophia. She couldn’t talk to anyone in Erik’s family because he wanted to tell them about their engagement when they got together in New Haven for Thanksgiving. That was nearly a month away.
Finished dusting and straightening up in the living room, she moved on to the kitchen.
On the way home she’d stopped by the market and bought fresh salmon and salad fixings. She was making one of Erik’s favorite meals tonight: grilled salmon with spicy red pepper sauce, a baked potato and garden salad. It was simple to prepare yet delicious and light. She didn’t want anything weighing them down tonight. Nothing was going to go wrong when things started getting heated between them.
It had crossed her mind to go to a spa and get the works: hair, nails, facial, wax. But she was plucked and prodded enough in her work. Erik liked her natural. She liked her natural state, as well. Besides, doing all that bordered on the obsessive and she was already neurotic enough. She kept her legs and underarms shaved, took long baths, after which she moisturized. That was sufficient.
Erik was coming at eight. By seven, she had the salmon ready to put on the grill, the salad and the pepper sauce were prepared and the potatoes washed and ready to pop into the microwave and then afterward put on the grill a few minutes to make the skins crisp. A trick her dad had taught her via one of their Skype cooking lessons. He was the chef in the family. Her mother could cook but didn’t really enjoy it. Carlo relished cooking all the recipes his mother, Renata, had taught him. Because Ana hadn’t paid much attention when he’d tried to teach her to cook while she was growing up, she had persuaded him a couple years ago to teach her over the computer. So about once a month, they got together via Skype and he taught her another recipe from his ever-expanding handwritten cookbook. She was a quick learner and was becoming quite proficient in the kitchen.
She was just thinking she should start getting ready for her date when her cell phone rang. A quick glance at the display told her it was her mother phoning.
“Mom!” she answered with a huge grin. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get in touch.”
“I know, I know, sweetie,” said Natalie a bit breathlessly. “I saw all the missed calls. What’s up? You sound good. You’re not sick or anything?”
Ana laughed shortly. “No, I’m fine. Well, not fine, exactly. I’m excited, a little scared, maybe. I mean this is such a huge step to take. It’s something I only want to do once, like you and Daddy…”
“Ana Maria Corelli,” Natalie interrupted her, her tone frustrated. “What are you talking about?”
Ana sighed, still grinning. “Erik asked me to marry him.”
“Oh, my God. Carlo, get in here—your baby girl’s engaged!” Natalie yelled, laughter bubbling up. Then, Ana could hear her mother talking to her father in the background.
“Erik finally popped the question! Okay, here, but I want to speak back with her when you’re done,” Natalie’s voice trailed off as she handed the phone to Carlo.
Her father came on the line. “Is this true, bambina? You have accepted his proposal?”
“Yes,” Ana told her father, her voice confident. “I love him, Daddy.”
Carlo gave a resigned sigh. “Well, I suppose, your mother and I have a new son-in-law.”
“You don’t sound too happy about it,” Ana said with a laugh to conceal the hurt. She had expected her father to sound as excited as her mother about her upcoming nuptials.
Her mother must have snatched the phone from her father’s hand because hers was the next voice Ana heard, and she sounded miffed. “Honey, don’t pay any attention to your father. You’re the last daughter he has to walk down the aisle and he doesn’t think there’s a man alive who’s good enough for you. Erik is a good man. I like him, and your father will learn to like him, or else.”
Ana smiled, and said, “Give Dad a kiss for me and tell him I’m sorry but I had to grow up sometime. I’d better get ready for my date with your future son-in-law now. Love you both.”
“We love you, too, sweetie,” Natalie assured her. “Give our best to Erik.”
A quarter after seven, she started counting down the minutes. A soak in the tub helped her to relax. Taking pains to smooth scented lotion over every inch of her body and making sure her nails were done kept her mind focused. Otherwise, she kept thinking about the last time she’d made love to Jack Russo and how she had thought of it as an act of love only to find out it had been a farewell performance. The next day she’d gotten a text saying, “Sorry, babe, this isn’t working out. I wish you much happiness in your future endeavors. Truly, I do.” It had been the longest text message she’d ever gotten from him. She immediately phoned him. He didn’t answer, of course. She left a message that was brief, to the point and only two words. After she’d verbally given him the middle finger, she felt better, but the feeling didn’t last long because she’d made the mistake of giving him her heart, one of the most worthless human beings to walk the planet. How could she have been so idiotic? She questioned her common sense. She questioned her ability to tell a decent human being from an indecent one. Most of all she questioned her taste in men.
Tonight is going to be so much different from that other night, long ago she thought confidently.
She had done her penance, suffered through the indignity of making a fool of herself over a man who wasn’t worthy of her. She had earned the right to happiness.
When the doorbell rang, she was dressed in a short black dress that clung to her curves, and a pair of sexy, black Ferragamo sandals. Her wavy black hair was parted in the middle and fell down her back. Her lips were red and pouty, and her dark eyes were smoldering.
She opened the door and Erik stood there with deep red roses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. She heard his sharp intake of breath and enjoyed the deliberate, sensual perusal of her body. Her efforts had been rewarded. “Wow,” was all he said before stepping into the loft.
Ana was likewise delighted by his appearance. She made that perfectly clear by relieving him of the roses and the wine and setting both on the foyer table, then grasping him by his jacket’s lapels and pulling him down for a lingering kiss. One of Erik’s muscular arms went around her waist and held her tightly while the other caressed her back and slipped further down to squeeze her behind. He was hard in seconds, and softly groaned with pleasure against her mouth.
Ana molded her body to his. She inhaled his heady scent, masculine and clean. His touch made her core melt. Her nipples grew erect and pressed against the fabric of her bra magnifying her arousal. Her sex throbbed. She was ready, so ready.
She tore her mouth from his. She smiled seductively. “I made dinner for you.”
“Smells wonderful,” Erik returned, devouring her with his eyes. It was apparent that food was the last thing on his mind right now. “It’ll keep, won’t it?”
“Oh, yeah,” she breathed, and once again their lips were locked in a passionate embrace. Erik picked her up. Ana wrapped her legs around him and he carried her to the bedroom.
Anticipating an eventful night, Ana had readied the bed, folding the comforter down to the foot of the bed, and turning back the top sheet. Erik gently set her down and began undressing her. He slowly unzipped her dress and pulled it off her shoulders. Ana let the dress fall in folds to the floor. She stood in a skimpy
teddy whose color nearly matched her brown skin. Erik bent and planted kisses along the curve of her neck, enjoying the warmth and fragrance of her skin. His nerve endings were on fire with pent-up desire. Touching her greatly enhanced his urgent need. He closed his eyes momentarily thinking that if he denied himself the sight of her it would ease the tension. He was wrong. Even if he were blind, her smell, the softness of her skin would drive him to distraction. Ana did not once think to close her eyes. She didn’t want to miss a thing. She reveled in the fact that it was she he wanted so badly that…and she touched him to make sure…he was so hard he was about to burst! She felt the pulse in her neck where his lips were kissing right now throb with excitement. Her heart was racing.
Erik’s hand gently squeezed her breast. She sighed with contentment. His hand slipped inside her bra and cupped her naked breast. That nearly made her scream with delight, but she muffled the exclamation and panted instead. Erik obviously took this as a sign to get a move on because after that he quickly dealt with the bra and pulled the teddy off her. She now stood before him in her bikini panties. Erik stared for a moment, unable to take his eyes off her. He had known she would be beautiful unclothed, that was a given, but anticipation paled in comparison to reality. Her breasts were firm, round and with nipples that looked so sweet, he had to taste them. When his tongue touched one of them he felt her tremble with pleasure, and a soft gasp escape from between her swollen lips.
He thought she might swoon. But he was wrong. She reached for his belt buckle. Her hand inadvertently touched his manhood and he steeled himself against coming too soon. He had to hastily back up, saying, “Let me.” At this point he knew that their first time would not be slow and easy. They were both too excited for that.
While he got undressed, Ana peeled off her bikini panties with nary a blush in sight.
Now they were both naked and both got their fill of each other in all their glory. Ana’s eyes rested on him and the smile on her lips told him she liked what she saw. Inspired by that smile, he reached for her and she went into his arms. Their mouths touched and he found himself kissing her almost shyly, feeling her out, then he felt her relent and give herself over to him. From that point on, their movements felt natural, as if this were not their first time at all, but one of many supremely intimate moments during which giving and taking of physical gratification was as natural as breathing.
He laid her on the bed and rained kisses all over her. His hands knew her every curve. With a great deal of joy he partook of her, her thighs wantonly spread open and with her writhing beneath him, until she moaned loudly and trembled in his arms. Then he got up and put on the condom. She watched him, could not take her eyes off him, and when he returned to the bed, she welcomed him inside of her and clung to him with renewed ardor. His thrusts were deep and satisfying to Ana. She held on to his butt, feeling the muscles contract with each push. After some time passed, she came. And it felt so good. At last, she knew what the difference was between making love to someone and just having sex. When you were in love the climax felt a hundred times better. It was sublime.
They lay looking in each other’s eyes, smiling contentedly. Erik spoke first, “We’re perfect together.”
Ana, who felt full of emotions fighting for prominence inside of her, nodded. She hadn’t known she would feel this way, full of joy that kept building in momentum until she feared she would burst into tears. She now wouldn’t be plagued by her last encounter with Jack Russo. Jack who? Sophia was right. Jack was a glitch in her sexual past. Erik was her future.
She reached up and gently touched his cheek. “How could it be anything less?”
“You really believe that?” Erik asked hopefully. She looked so beautiful to him, her hair wild and sexy, a faint layer of perspiration on her skin from making love. He could die a happy man right now. For so long he’d been in love with her, wishing that one day soon she would see that he was the man for her. Yes, she’d accepted his marriage proposal, but making love to her was an even bigger step in their relationship. It meant she trusted him with her heart. No matter what some guys say about their ability to make love to as many women as they can get in bed and walk away unaffected the next day, it was a lie. Oh, it affected you all right. Depending on your circumstances it either served to harden your heart or leave it vulnerable to being broken into pieces.
Peering deeply in his eyes, Ana smiled and softly said, “With all my heart. I can’t regret how long it’s taken us to get to this point, though, because the time we spent together as friends only strengthened my love and respect for you. I got to know the real you.”
“Oh, yeah?” said Erik playfully, white teeth flashing in a grin. “Tell me three things you know about me, and I don’t mean something simple like my favorite color is blue.”
Ana pursed her lips, pretending this was an arduous task. “Hmm, let’s see. When you were a boy of nine you stole your dad’s car and went joyriding. This was in Connecticut. You probably would’ve gotten yourself killed in New York.”
“Who told you that?” Erik asked genuinely surprised.
“Drusilla,” Ana said, laughing. “She didn’t swear me to secrecy so I think it’s safe to divulge the name of my source.”
“Okay, number two?”
“You have a copy of the Sports Illustrated that has me on the cover in your nightstand drawer.”
“How long have you known that?” he asked, feeling not in the least guilty about being found out.
“Almost immediately after it hit the newsstands,” she said. “I broke a nail while I was at your place and I couldn’t find a nail clipper in your medicine cabinet so I figured you kept one in your nightstand drawer like I do.”
“You didn’t say anything,” he said, his tone questioning.
“No, I didn’t want to get into why you had it there. I knew we were attracted to each other. We have been from the beginning. But I was comfortable with what we had. I didn’t want to risk losing it. You understand?”
“Of course,” he said gently, and kissed her chin.
“Now that we can talk about it…you didn’t do anything naughty with my Sports Illustrated cover, did you?”
Erik laughed shortly. “I take the fifth.”
She giggled. “Don’t be embarrassed. I had to invent ways of surviving without jumping you, too.”
“Such as?” he asked, brows raised in an askance expression.
“The detachable showerhead in my shower got a work out,” she admitted, blushing even if she were lying naked in bed with her lover.
“I’m shocked,” Erik said, feigning horror. “Okay, on to number three.”
“I know you never got over your mother leaving,” Ana said seriously, which instantly killed the levity in the conversation.
For a moment Erik looked somewhat stricken. He was quiet for a full thirty seconds and those thirty seconds felt like hours to Ana who instinctively knew she had brought up an unwelcome subject.
Erik fought for the right words to say. He was not aware Ana had perceived how he felt about his mother. She had been there when Mari had suddenly reentered his and Belana’s lives more than a year ago. Ana had held him after she had died. In fact, she had refused to let him spend the night alone and they had talked for hours before he’d fallen asleep, exhausted.
“I never said anything,” he murmured, and sat up in bed. He busied himself by going into the bathroom and cleaning himself up.
Ana sat up in bed, too, and said, “You didn’t have to say anything. It was written all over your face when you looked at her. I could feel waves of emotion coming off you whenever you talked about her before and after she died. Have you forgiven her?”
She could see into the bathroom from the bed. Erik thought about shutting the door to shut Ana out if only for a few moments. He needed privacy because he was not ready to discuss his mother. Or the
impact her desertion had had on him, even if he claimed she had none at all.
Ana rose and went into the bathroom, too, which had a tub and a separate shower. “You don’t have to answer that,” she said, and went to turn on the hot water in the shower. “I’m going to take a quick shower. You’re welcome to join me.”
Erik relaxed and followed her into the stall, not saying a word. He didn’t want their earlier rapport to end. He inwardly chided himself for his inability to be forthcoming about his mother. But then again he had no practice in the matter. For years he was stalwart and denied feeling anything about her. He thought the best defense was to pretend not to care. It was her loss if she didn’t want anything to do with her son and daughter.
His father, the good man that he is, refused to bad-mouth Mari. He simply told Erik and Belana that Mari had made bad choices and someday she would realize her mistake.
Someday wound up being too late. By the time she had come to that conclusion she was dying of lung cancer. The few weeks she spent with him and Belana could never make up for years of neglect. Erik was a man, though, and saw to it that she had the best care possible. And when she drew her last breath, he and Belana had been there to gently usher her out of this world. That’s the least he thought he could do.
So why couldn’t he talk about her with the woman he loved?
Ana ran her soapy hands across his broad shoulders as she stood in front of him in the shower. She didn’t seem to mind getting her hair wet. It lay in ringlets about her lovely face. Her golden brown skin was beaded with drops of water. The contrast of her skin with those dark chocolate eyes killed him. He got weak with desire whenever she looked at him intently like she was now. He wanted to bare his soul, give her anything she wanted. “For a long time,” he blurted out, “I thought I’d wind up just like my father—abandoned by the woman I loved. I know it makes no sense. I’m not my father. But children learn by example and my example was an extremely hardworking man who had been left by his beautiful wife for a poor man she lusted-after. I got the lusted after part from Drusilla when I got older and she stopped trying to hide the details from me. My mother, who was a ballet dancer, as you know, left my father for a handsome French dance instructor. She threw away her marriage and her two children for him.”
