Chapter 13
ERIK WOULD’VE KEPT Christine up all night if she hadn’t needed sleep so badly. He woke her once when she became restless and stilled her with skillful caresses to her back and kisses to her neck and lips that eventually drifted south. She responded to his kisses enthusiastically and reached for his rapidly hardening cock. When she squeezed him, he growled playfully and pressed her down into the mattress. He held her arms above her head and entered her swiftly. She wrapped her legs around his back as he brought them both to a swift climax.
This time, he turned on the bathroom light so she could use it and got her a glass of water. When she returned, he pulled her close, his arms around her middle, holding her against his chest.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
“So much better…” Her voice was a satisfied purr. “I needed that.”
“So did I. Glad to oblige.”
“Ha, I’m sure you are.” She wiggled her ass against him, the minx, and his cock responded. He pinched her bottom in revenge, making her laugh. When they lapsed into silence, she asked, “What happens now? Between us? ”
“I can only tell you what I’d like to happen. I’ve been told I’m too demanding, so I also want to hear what you want.” He nipped at the nape of her neck. “I’d like to be in a relationship with you, but I’m also afraid I won’t be able to be a proper…”
“Boyfriend?”
“Something like that,” he hedged. “Christine, I can’t take you out on dates or meet your friends. We can’t go out dancing. You’ll never be able to post my photo on social media—”
“I already told you,” she interrupted. “I’ll take what you can give.”
“You say that now, but there may be a time when it’s not enough.” This was his worst fear. One day, he wouldn’t be enough for her. She’d want to see the world, and his corner of it would be more like the prison it had become for him.
“I can’t promise how I’ll feel in the future. None of us can. You might tire of me eventually. For right now, I’m so happy in this room, in the dark, with you.”
Erik’s grip on her tightened imperceptibly. “So am I.”
I’ll never tire of you, Christine.
When his alarm blared at 7:00 a.m., Erik and Christine decided it would be better to get through their day of work instead of what they both wanted to do, which was stay in bed all day. Erik looked at her regretfully, his mask back in place.
“It’s been a long time since…”
She gathered her pajamas from the floor of his bedroom, completely nude.
“Me too, believe it or not.” She smiled at Erik’s questioning look. “I told you, I haven’t had the time to be a proper twenty-five-year-old.”
“All work and no play, Christine,” he admonished her.
“You’re one to talk. When’s the last time you had any fun?” She was sitting on the edge of the bed, putting on her pajama bottoms.
He crawled up behind her, massaging her shoulders. “Before last night? Before Halloween? I honestly can’t remember.”
“Mmm….” She rolled her head to the side at the pressure of his touch. “Well, that’s something for us to look forward to.”
Erik wanted to take Christine on a proper date, but he needed to get creative since most typical dates were out of the question. A normal date was going out to dinner. It was a movie and a walk in the park. Maybe he could take her hiking one day? Even that would require some planning.
Inspiration came from a cooking segment on the morning news. Maybe they could cook together? A decade lived largely in solitude meant he lived off of takeout, but perhaps between the two of them, they could manage to muddle through an easy recipe.
“I’d like to cook tonight. That’s normal, right?” he asked while she was booting up the laptop Garret had just dropped off. His normally taciturn assistant had let out a quizzical grin at Christine before quickly making himself scarce.
She looked up and considered his suggestion. “That’s a normal sixth date activity—the kind you do when hoping to sleep with someone for the first time.”
“What kind of date happens after you’ve already slept with someone?”
“As I understand it, usually, you order pizza and have more sex. But that’s not a hard and fast rule. ”
“Well, it’s not like we were going for typical anyway. I’ll have Garret run to the store and pick up some ingredients.”
“Or, hear me out, I’ll go to the store, and you let Garret enjoy his weekend.”
“I feel bad making you go out on your own.”
“Why?”
“I guess I’m so used to not going out. It feels odd forcing you to do something I’m unwilling to do.”
Christine pulled him close and kissed him on the lips. “I told you I was willing to do this on your terms. I’ll tell you what. You promise to chop the onions, and we’ll call it even. Now, let me get my work done.”
Christine scoped out the options at the local Whole Foods. The skirt steak was on sale, so she decided on a beef stir fry. Excited to treat Erik to something, she picked up a couple of slices of cake—chocolate fudge and strawberry cheesecake—in hopes he’d like one. When she passed a liquor store, she decided to replace the wine she drank last night.
“I think it was called Opera One? It was a Cabernet, and the label had the silhouette of two faces back-to-back.”
“You might mean Opus One. Yeah, we have that…” The older woman at the wine shop smiled as she went to a cabinet and produced a key. Since most of the wine was readily accessible, she had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Perhaps it was the woman’s private stock?
“Yes, that’s it! Can I buy it?”
“Yes. I should tell you we don’t take American Express.”
“Oh, that’s fine. I have cash.”
“Great! That will be $447.83.”
“Beg your pardon?” Christine was sure she had misheard, but when the lovely lady repeated herself, Christine realized there was no way she could afford to replace Erik’s wine. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea it was so expensive. I’m not going to be able to afford it.”
“No problem, dear, you’d be surprised how often that happens. Might I recommend Stags’ Leap instead? It’s another Napa Cabernet and much more reasonably priced. I have one on sale.”
“Thank you! I appreciate you being so understanding.”
Christine paid the $32 and brought her loot back to Erik, entering through the hidden garage—wary of the paparazzi that had driven her from her apartment.
“You know, you could’ve told me the bottle of wine from last night cost you over $400.”
“To be fair, you didn’t ask me before you opened it.” He smiled at her as he set the table. “Did you want me to take it out of your salary?”
“Touché.” She grinned ruefully. “I’d offer to buy you a new one, but I have this strong desire to make rent this month.” She kissed him on his unmarred cheek and began unbagging the groceries.
“You know you don’t have to live in that closet. You have a wealthy boyfriend.” He leaned against the kitchen counter as she familiarized herself with the kitchen.
Christine felt a thrill at his casual use of the word ‘boyfriend,’ but she wasn’t about to turn him into her sugar daddy. “Now Erik, you’re doing so well being a normal boyfriend. Don’t start love-bombing me now.”
“I’m normal? Could’ve fooled me. Anyway, why is that love-bombing? You literally had an asshole try to plant a listening device in your home. I just want to see you somewhere marginally more secure.”
Christine weighed his position. “I won’t say you don’t have a point. I’ll start looking for new places after the gala. Maybe my boyfriend will let me crash here?”
“Well, now that depends.” Erik wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Depends on?” She enjoyed the feeling of his body surrounding hers.
“How well that girlfriend sees to my not inconsiderable needs.” He placed open-mouth kisses on the underside of her jaw. “Do you think she’d be willing to do as I demand?”
“I think she’d be willing with the proper reciprocation.” Christine loved the breathlessness in her voice as he seduced her.
Erik had unbuttoned her jeans and was caressing the silken wetness he found inside. He barely had to touch her, and she was ready for him. Christine mewled softly as Erik played her body with his capable fingers.
“Tell me more…” Erik’s voice was a soft growl, and he grew harder as his touch became firmer. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
“What you’re doing now” —she sighed as his thumb passed over her nub ever-so-briefly— “is working pretty well.” She practically laid on him, letting his firm body take her weight so she could float on the bliss of his touch.
“Now, Christine, I want you to use your imagination.” His fingers stilled, and she writhed in frustration. “If you want me to continue this” —he softly grazed her center—“you’re going to have to tell me what gets you off.”
She sighed shakily as her mind revisited some of the naughtier fantasies she’d had of Erik in the last few weeks. “I…I want you to boss me around, to tie my hands again. It was so hot la st night. I want you to do that again.” Her face was burning. “I want you to fuck me up against a wall.”
“Both those ideas have promise…” Slowly, he began to move his fingers again. “Keep going.”
“I…I want to come riding your thigh. Ah!” He slipped one finger inside of her and continued to play with her clit. “I want to take you in my mouth. I want to make you desperate. You put your hands in my hair while I…”
“Fuck, Christine!” His fingers were demanding now. “Such a good girl to want to take care of me.”
“I want you to fuck me now.” She placed her hand on his, stilling him. “Please.”
He spun her around, one hand on her jaw. “Is this what you want?” He was hard against her stomach, and she unbuttoned his jeans.
“Yes, that’s what I want.” She looked him in the eyes, thrilled at the craving she saw there. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, kissing her deeply, capturing her lower lip between his teeth and nibbling. She panted, aroused beyond all imagination.
“What was it you said about fucking against a wall?” He forced her backward until they were in the large main room of his home. Without asking, he pulled down her jeans and underwear, taking a moment to slip his fingers back inside of her. She wailed at his touch, so pleasant it was almost painful.
“Erik, you need to fuck me right now!” The demand was unnecessary. He was inside her, and gravity helped him penetrate far deeper than she could’ve imagined. Reflexively, her arms and legs wrapped around him, and he pressed against her center in exciting ways.
“Is this what you wanted?” He was growling in her face. His lips pulled back fiercely, his masked forehead pressed against hers .
“Just want you.” She was with him, taking him as deep as he would go. He caged her in with his hard, well-formed body. Her breasts felt exquisitely sensitive, everything pulled taut. She was near tears with need. Her eyes met Erik’s, conveying her frustration.
“Sing for me, Christine.”
She came with a scream. Some fantasies were better in her head, but this wasn’t one of them. Erik pressed his head into her neck as he brought himself to orgasm in rapid motions that showed he’d held back for her sake. The sound of his climax prolonged her pleasure as she basked in it. As he quieted, he took her to the floor with him, holding her close, extending the moment of intimacy.
Dinner had been delayed by both their impromptu coupling and a needed shower, but it ended up being quite tasty. Erik preferred the strawberry cheesecake to the chocolate fudge, but both got eaten over the course of the meal. After dinner, they debated which film to watch before settling on Ghostbusters , which neither had seen but both had heard was a ‘classic.’ Erik turned off the lights, and Christine cuddled against him. He would’ve thought this a successful date were it not for the growing irritation of the mask on his skin. As the movie continued, he found himself getting itchy and had difficulty resisting the urge to scratch.
“Am I too heavy on you?” she asked, picking her head up to look at him. His fingers were dancing restlessly on the arm of the sofa. “Erik, is something bothering you?”
Erik sighed and paused the movie.
“I’m not used to wearing the mask this much. The material irritates my face.”
“Oh! Why didn’t you say so?”
“I wasn’t ready to—show my face around you.”
“Oh.” Christine pursed her lips at his confession, but she didn’t seem upset. “What if I lay down on the other side of the couch? We can put a pillow between us, so I won’t be able to see anything. That way, you can remove your mask and not feel so exposed.”
Erik let out a nearly imperceptible sigh of relief. She was so good at respecting what he was willing to give her that he grew brave. If she could understand him so readily, didn’t he owe it to her to try to make it easy for both of them?
“What if—what if I just take it off instead?”
“Take it off?” Her eyebrows raised high in surprise.
“If it’s okay with you.” Shyness crept up, and he hoped he hadn’t misread her. What if she told him she’d prefer he left it on?
Instead, she kissed him gently. “That’s a great idea.”
Erik slowly removed the straps from his head. He closed his eyes, expecting to see pity or shock on her face. Yes, she’d seen his face before, but it had been so brief. She hadn’t gotten a good look. He felt so open, like Prometheus on the rock waiting for the eagle to pick out his liver.
When her lips pressed against the ravaged side of his cheek and her fingers threaded through his hair, he opened his eyes to see her smiling at him.
“There you are!” She kissed his lips lightly again, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue entering her mouth. It felt more than erotic—he felt made whole. When they parted, she was blushing.
“Let’s watch the rest of the movie,” he said shyly. As they watched the film, a small smile played on his lips that had nothing to do with Bill Murray’s antics on the screen.
At exactly 12:40 p.m. on Sunday morning, the elevator doors opened, and Reza Khan exited with a furrowed brow and tensed shoulders.
“What’s got you so worked up? Did Julia keep you up all night again?” Erik asked, bemused.
Reza threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “You! You’ve got me worked up! I must have texted you ten times yesterday, and all I got was a ‘leave me alone, I’ll see you Sunday.’”
“I was busy. I had my phone on silent.”
“Busy with what? You only put your phone on silent when you get depressed.” Reza paused and looked around Erik’s home, no doubt for the evidence of Erik’s downward spiral. It was fair of him to worry, though Erik hadn’t gone that dark in a few years. Reza paused in his visual investigation. “What is that smell?”
“Pigs in blankets,” Erik responded with a smile. Reza was so easy to rile up sometimes. “She said that’s how she and her father watched the games as a kid. She’s also putting together nachos.”
“She?” Reza asked, eyebrows rising.
“Hi, Mr. Khan. It’s good to see you!” Christine walked out of the kitchen wearing oven mitts and a Sauce Gardner Jets jersey.
“Am I…in a parallel universe?” He looked at Erik, his mouth open wide in shock. “Christine is here…and you’re not wearing a mask…” Reza trailed off.
“Are you done with your Twilight Zone impersonation?” Erik asked, selecting a mini hot dog from the tray Christine put down.
“Miss Derring…” Reza’s jaw was slack, but he quickly recovered. “It’s so good to see you!” Reza hugged her fi ercely, and Erik shook his head at his friend’s suspiciously watery eyes. What a baby. “Please, call me Reza.”
Christine laughed. “Okay, Reza, you need to call me Christine. I hope you’re hungry. The rest of the food will be ready soon.” Erik nodded and watched her walk back into the kitchen in her Gardner #1 jersey. Reza continued to smile stupidly in the foyer.
“She picked that jersey herself. I was the one they made go get it.” A gruff voice came from behind them as Garret and Wendy exited the elevator. “She made me go get her a frickin’ Jets jersey, and I just know she did it because he told her I’m an Eagles fan.”
“I like her even more now,” Reza said. “You could’ve told me what I was walking into today when I texted you for Erik’s proof of life yesterday.”
“And miss the stupid look on your face? Not a chance. I only wish I would’ve recorded it.”
“Reza, it’s good to see you,” Garret’s wife, Wendy, said. “I was hoping we’d see Sarah here as well.”
“Julia’s under the weather, so Sarah’s on mommy duty today. She’s going to be so pissed to have missed this. I’ll be repeating this story ad nauseum for the next week.”
“What are the three of you doing for Thanksgiving?” Wendy asked Reza as he grabbed a beer.
“Not sure yet. Both our families are traveling this year.”
“Maybe I could host?” Erik said the words without thinking, and everyone turned to look at him in shock. “I mean…I have the room.” He felt self-conscious at their wide-eyed stares.
“But you can’t cook!” Reza laughed.
“I can have it catered.”
“Why do I feel like I’m the one who’ll be picking up that catering?” Garret grumbled, and Wendy smacked his thigh in reproof .
“Perhaps we can do potluck style?” Wendy suggested. “Garret makes amazing roasted Brussels sprouts”—she gave her husband a look—“and I’ve been wanting to try my hand at brioche.”
“I like that idea,” Christine offered as she walked in with the nachos platter. “I make a pretty good pumpkin pie.”
“I’ll talk to Sarah, but there’s no way in hell she’s going to miss seeing a smile on your face, Erik.”
“It sounds like a plan then.” Erik was pleased. So much seemed possible now that he’d let Christine in. It made him wonder what else he was capable of for her sake.
As the game began, Erik was entirely at ease with Christine leaning against him on the couch. He purposely ignored Reza and Wendy, who were stealing surreptitious glances and grinning at him. Let them stare—it was nice to be stared at for something that made him so happy. Garret, of course, was too engrossed in the game to care one way or another.
At halftime, Erik asked Reza to help him in the office and pulled out a bottle of Macallan 30 Year. The Jets were up by ten, and the mood was celebratory, to say the least—except for Garret and his wife, who were pouting and complaining about the officiating. Taking his glass, Reza gave him a look.
“I’m going to have to Uber back to New Jersey.”
“You can pick up your car in the morning.”
Reza nodded and took a sip. “So how did this happen? I’m beyond thrilled, but it looked like you were unlikely to get to this point.”
Erik told him the amazing story of how the paparazzi forced their hands and Christine became his houseguest.
“And then?” Reza asked.
“And then none of your business.” Erik smiled into his drink as he sipped. “But I was wondering if you could help me with something this week.” His smile wavered. “Can you arrange for me to meet with that doctor specializing in facial prosthetics?”
“Really? I’ve been trying to get you interested in Dr. Carmichael’s work for almost a decade. You usually tell me to back off and I don’t hear from you for a week.”
“It’s just that the mask I use now irritates the hell out of my skin. I’m not saying I want to go out to be interviewed by Jim Cramer wearing one of those things, but it would be nice to accompany Christine to the grocery store or for a walk. I don’t know—maybe I’ll take one look and decide it’s a waste of time, but I have the time to waste.” Erik shrugged.
“I’ll call her first thing tomorrow. I’ve kept in touch in case you ever decided to meet with her. I’m sure we can get something set up soon.”
“Good. Don’t tell Christine. It’s not that I don’t want to get her hopes up, but it’ll be a nice surprise if it works out, right?”
Reza held up three fingers in an imitation of the Boy Scout pledge. “Your secret is safe with me.”