“I want to go too,” says Flyn.
Our moment is broken, and Eric takes his eyes off me to focus on the boy.
“Of course. Put on your coat.”
10
Fifteen minutes later, we get to the Oberfohring All Sports Center, and Eric shuts off the car. Flyn jumps out and runs off. I look over at Eric with concern.
“Don’t worry,” he says, grabbing his sports bag. “He knows this place like the back of his hand.”
“Have you noticed how your nephew looks at me?” I ask as we walk toward the sports center.
“Do you remember how your niece used to look at me at first?” responds Eric. “Flyn is a child. You just have to win him over like I won Luz over.”
“You’re right. But I don’t know why I get the sense your nephew is like his uncle, bullheaded.”
Eric laughs aloud. He stops and leans down to be closer to me.
“If I could, I’d kiss you this very instant. I’d put my mouth on yours, and I would devour you. Then I’d take you back to the car and rip your clothes off and make love to you with true devotion. Unfortunately, I’m being punished and can’t do what I want.”
I’m about to give in and kiss him, when we’re interrupted.
“Judith! Eric!”
I look to my right and see Frida and Andrés and little Glen. We all warmly hug each other.
“You play basketball too?” I ask Andrés.
He winks at me.
“Yes, of course,” he boasts, and we all laugh.
Once inside, Frida and Andrés kiss.
They’re so cute! Eric looks at me with longing but keeps his distance.
“Stay with Frida, my love. I’ll see you after the game,” he says before disappearing behind the locker room door.
Lord God, I want him to kiss me, but he doesn’t.
“Don’t tell me he’s still being punished?” says Frida as soon as the door closes and she notices the look on my face.
Like a fool, I nod, and my friend just laughs and laughs.
“C’mon . . . let’s go up to the bleachers to cheer for our guys. And, by the way, I love your boots. They’re beautiful and sexy punishment wear.”
Lost in my thoughts, I follow Frida. We open a door and find the basketball court. There’s Flyn, seated on the yellow bleachers, playing with his PSP. When he sees us, he doesn’t greet us but goes straight to Glen. He likes the baby and asks Frida if he can hold him. She hands him over, and I watch Flyn make faces to get Glen to laugh. As the bleachers fill up, Flyn suddenly hands the baby back to his mother and goes to sit a few rows below us.
“How is it going with Flyn?” asks Frida.
I shrug. “Honestly, I don’t think he likes me. He didn’t want to play with me, and he barely talks to me. Is he always like that, or is that just with me?”
Frida laughs.
“He’s a good kid, but not very communicative. I’ve known him his whole life, and I don’t think he’s ever said more than ten words to me. He’s crazy about technology and gaming, and when he sees Glen, he’s all smiles.” Suddenly, she’s quiet for an instant. “Uff, that stinks! I’m going to the restroom to change this little skunk’s diaper, or we’ll all die.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“No. I’ll be right back.”
When she leaves, I smile and gesture for Flyn to come sit with me, but he refuses. Five minutes later, I see a group of women my age come in, all looking really good and perfumed to the max. They sit directly in front of me. They’re very animated while they talk about some hairstylist until the players come out to warm up. I’m absolutely flabbergasted when I realize one of Eric and Andrés’s teammates is Björn!
On the court just a few feet from me is the man I adore with all my heart. Two other men with whom I’ve shared my bed are also there. Uff, how hot and how embarrassing! I fan myself with my hand; I don’t know where to look.
When I manage to get my heart to stop racing two thousand miles an hour, I look back at the court and turn bright red when I see all three looking up at me and waving. Shyly, I wave back. The women in front of me think they’re waving at them, and they cackle like a bunch of excited hens.
I’m all flushed, but I can’t take my eyes off my Iceman. He looks up at me and throws the ball. God, he looks so good.
Flyn steps onto the court, and Eric throws him the ball. The boy laughs. Björn picks him up and swings him upside down. For a few minutes, Flyn is the center of attention, and he’s happy. For the first time, I see him laughing like a kid his age.
When Flyn sits back down on the bleachers, I watch with pride at how Eric moves on the court. I’d never imagined him as an athlete, and I love it! I’ve been enjoying watching him for a few minutes, when I overhear one of the women seated in front of me.
“My, oh my! The man I want most in my bed is playing today.”
“Mine too,” says another.
They all laugh, and I kind of laugh along. It’s all in good fun, and I’m having a fine time until another one speaks up.
“Holy God! Eric just gets better every day. Just look at his legs.”
They all laugh anew. “I still remember the night I spent with him,” says the stupid blonde. “It was extraordinary.” My blood begins to boil.
To think Eric spent the night and had sex with that woman doesn’t amuse me at all. I wonder if this happened recently.
“Lora, that was more than a year ago.”
I practically clap when I hear this.
Eric was involved with her before he met me. I can’t hold that against him. I was also involved with other men before I met him.
“Gina, all I can say is that Eric is a man who leaves his mark,” responds this Lora girl, and everyone laughs, myself included.
For a little while, I listen to the women as they reveal what they think of each and every one of the men warming up on the court. Each plays stupendously, including Gina’s husband. When this Lora person mentions Andrés and Björn, I realize she could care less which one she might get to be with.
“Lora,” says Gina, laughing, “if you want to sleep with Eric again, you just have to win over the boy. Everyone knows that little monster is his weakness.”
Lora wrinkles her nose when she looks at Flyn. She tosses back her long blonde hair.
“I don’t need to win anybody over to get what I want from Eric.”
Now I’m indignant. Frida and Glen return and sit by my side.
“Hello, girls!” she says.
The four women turn around and smile. They kiss hello.
“Girls, let me introduce you to Judith, Eric’s girlfriend.”
The women, but especially the blonde who tossed her hair, are stunned.
I’ve asked Eric not to introduce me as his girlfriend, but right now I want to make my status very clear: I’m his and he’s mine!
I decide to pretend I didn’t hear a thing and greet them enthusiastically. From that moment on, not one of them mentions Eric again.
The game begins, and I watch him run from one side of the court to the other. I don’t really understand basketball, so I need Frida to explain things as they go along.
Andrés plays point guard, and Eric plays forward, and I quickly realize his combination of height and speed makes him perfect for that position. I clap every time he scores a point or a counterattack. Oh God, my guy is so sexy!
During the break, I watch how Lora looks at him. She tries to get his attention, but her efforts are fruitless. Eric is concentrating on his teammates, and I like how he fully commits himself to what he loves.
Enjoying myself, I applaud loudly when the game starts again and, with Frida, get totally into it; in fact, I’m surprised when the game ends and our guys have won by twelve points. Olé!
I watch Flyn run to hug his uncle, who picks him up. Everybody begins to get up from their seats.
“C’mon . . . ,” says Frida. “Let’s go.”
I go down past the ot
her women and see Eric sitting, drenched in sweat.
He puts on a track jacket. His usual serious expression is back, and that causes my heart to leap.
That’s when I realize Lora and another woman are whispering and staring at my Iceman. I decide to make things clear to them once and for all. I go up to Eric, sit on his lap, and kiss him longingly, with passion and with gusto.
“Well, sweetheart, if I’d only known, I would have brought you to a basketball game sooner,” he says in a raspy voice, his lips just an inch or so from mine. I grin. “Does this mean I’m no longer being punished?”
I nod. He closes his eyes, sighs, and kisses me again.
11
While the men clean up after the game, Frida and the other women and I wait for them in the lobby. I get a kick out of their comments. Lora hasn’t said anything to irritate me again. Of course, she keeps looking at me with an odd expression. It’s clear knowing I’m Eric’s girlfriend has taken the fun out of it for her. Half an hour later, the men come out of the locker room, all fresh and clean.
“Hi, are you Judith? The Spanish girl?” says a serious fellow, so blond he seems albino.
I almost say “Olé!” but decide against it.
“Yes, I’m Judith.”
“Olé? . . . Toro . . . paella!” says one of the guys, and I laugh.
Two dark-haired guys come over to us, and they’re also curious about me. I’m the novelty, the Spanish girl. That amuses me, and I chat with them for a while. Suddenly, I see Eric coming out of the locker room. He looks irritated because I’m surrounded by all these guys, but I smile at him. I like these silly jealousies of his, especially when I see he stops to talk to Frida, Andrés, and the baby, waiting for me to go to him. We exchange looks, and then, with a gesture, he suggests I come over to him.
I pretend I don’t see him. I don’t want to be following him around like a little dog. He finally comes over to me, puts his arms around my waist in front of his friends, and gives me a kiss on the lips.
“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Judith. So be careful!”
His friends laugh, as do I, and Björn takes my hand and kisses it in a gesture of greeting. I get inexplicably nervous but finally relax when I realize Björn isn’t going to do or say anything out of line. On the contrary, he is absolutely proper. Eric kisses me on the temple, and the two of them plan for us all to go to dinner at Jokers, Björn’s parents’ restaurant.
I check my watch. It’s seven thirty.
I let Eric guide me by the waist as he reaches over with his other hand to grab Flyn. We get in the car, and the boy, still excited from the game, can’t stop talking with his uncle. He doesn’t include me at any time in the conversation, but I manage to get a word in edgewise anyway.
When we get to Jokers, we park the Mitsubishi and see Frida and Andrés behind us and, behind them, Björn. It’s absolutely freezing, and we dash into the restaurant. An ungainly man comes out to welcome us, and Björn tells me it’s his father. His name is Klaus, and he’s a very charming guy. The moment he finds out I’m Spanish, the words “paella,” “olé,” and “toro” come tumbling out of his mouth, and I laugh.
We have a few beers while the rest of the group arrives, and then a young woman takes us to a private dining room. When we sit down, I let Eric order for me. I need to get up to date on German food.
We start dinner amidst laughter, and I try to understand everything being said, but listening to so many people speaking in German at once perplexes me. They’re so curt when they talk! As I try to focus so I understand what is being said, Eric whispers in my ear.
“Ever since you told me I’m no longer being punished, I’m dying to go home, sweetheart. What about you?”
I tell him yes, and Eric makes little circles on my thigh under the table.
“Do you want me?”
I raise an eyebrow slightly. “Yes, very much.”
“On a scale from one to ten, how much do you want me?” he says, surprising me.
“Ten doesn’t begin to describe it. Shall we say, fifty?” I say, my libido sky high.
Again, he’s pleased with my answer. He takes a French fry from his plate, bites it, and gives me the rest. We continue with our dinner until I hear Eric talking to Flyn.
“C’mon, Flyn, c’mon. Eat or I’ll eat what’s on your plate. I’m hungry, terribly hungry.”
The boy nods and Björn laughs.
“Eric, when I told my father’s new cook that Judith is Spanish, she insisted we introduce her.”
They both grin and fist-bump; then Eric gets up and takes me by the hand.
“Let’s do what the cook says, or we’ll never be able to come back to this place.”
I get up to follow him while everyone watches, a little surprised, and then I see Flyn make a move to go with us.
“Hey, if you go, I’m gonna eat all your French fries,” says Björn.
The boy decides to defend his plate while we walk away from the group. We leave the dining room and go down a long hallway. Eric stops in front of a door. He inserts a key in the lock, makes me go inside, and, after closing the door again, begins to unbutton his jacket.
“I can’t take it anymore, love. I’m hungry, and it’s not for the food on the table.”
I’m floored. “Wait, weren’t we going to meet the cook?”
Eric looks at me as if he wants to ravage me. “Undress, love. Fifty on a scale of one to ten, remember?”
Still astonished, I’m about to respond, when Eric quickly lifts me by the waist and sits me on top of the desk in the office. Didn’t he just ask me to undress?
He runs his tongue on my upper lip, then my lower lip; when he’s about to give me that final little nibble, I throw myself on his mouth and eat him up.
Heat.
Excitement.
Momentary insanity.
For several minutes, we kiss and touch each other in an absolute frenzy. Eric is so hot, so good at this, that I feel like I’m going to melt. And then he swiftly lifts my dress and puts his enormous hands at the top of my hose.
“Stop.” That makes him come to an absolute halt. “I don’t want you to rip my hose or my underwear. They’re new, and they cost a ton. I’ll take them off myself.”
He smiles . . . Oh, my heart leaps wildly when he smiles like that.
The hell with it—he can rip whatever he wants!
Eric takes a step back, his desire for me intensifying. I immediately put a foot on his chest. He unbuckles my boot and takes it off without dropping his eyes from mine. We repeat the same action with the other boot.
With both boots on the floor, I jump off the desk and take off my hose.
Eric’s breathing is as heavy as mine, and, when he kneels before me, he doesn’t need to ask for what he wants. I come close and press my panties against his face.
“You don’t know how much I’ve missed you,” he whispers, eyes closed.
Wanting him desperately, I run my hands through his hair as he rubs his face against my mound. He lowers my panties with one finger and rubs his mouth over my tattoo.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart . . . whatever you want,” he whispers.
He doesn’t stop saying this, a phrase that’s so his and which I’ve had tattooed on my body. He takes off my panties and, standing back up, takes me in his arms, lifts me back on the desk, parts my legs, and lowers his black track pants.
“I go crazy when I see those words on your skin, sweetheart,” he whispers as he lowers me down and I see his erect and tempting penis. “I would spend hours tasting you, but there’s no time for preambles, so I’m going to fuck you right now.”
He brings his enormous erection to my wet vagina, and with one single and certain thrust, he charges into me.
Oh yes!
I can hear the murmur of people on the other side of the door as Eric takes me. I am in ecstasy.
“No more secrets between us,” I say softly.
Eric nods as he goes in and out of me.
“I want us to be honest in our relationship,” I insist as I gasp for air.
“Of course, sweetheart. I promise, now and forever.”
We can hear music, but I can only delight in what I’m feeling this very instant. I’m being vigorously satisfied by the man I most desire in the world, and I’m overjoyed. His strong hands have me by the waist and move me around, and, feeling lucky for having this moment, I let him drive.
Eric pulls me against him over and over as he grits his teeth and I hear him hiss. I can barely breathe as I try to open more and more for him. Suddenly, he lifts me in his arms and pushes me against the wall.
Oh God, yes!
His lunges become more and more intense. More possessive. I whimper, blissful.
His hands squeeze my ass. He has me pinned against the wall, and all I can do is gladly take him. I feel an overwhelming heat and sense I’m on the verge of a devastating climax and about to scream. I contain myself and bring my mouth to his ear.
“Now . . . love . . . harder now.”
Eric intensifies his thrusts and buries himself in the deepest part of me as I explode, elated. Eric gives me what I ask for. He’s my master. My love. My servant. He’s everything to me, and, when it feels like the heat between the two of us is going to carbonize us, I hear a hollow cry of freedom from our throats that we can quiet only with a kiss.
An instant later, he arches his body over me, and I press him against mine, determined not to let him go all night. When the quake from our orgasm begins to calm, we just look at each other.
“I can’t live without you,” he says, his penis still inside me. “What have you done to me?”
That makes me smile, and I give him a sweet kiss on the lips.
“I’ve done the same thing you’ve done to me. I made you fall in love with me!”
For just a few seconds, my Iceman looks at me with that gaze of his, so German and so punishing that it drives me crazy. I love knowing what he’s thinking when he looks at me like that. Finally, he kisses me on the lips and reluctantly lets me go.
Now and Forever Page 7
