Weston slowly approaches, as if Ethan might have a deadly virus or something.
“He’s not contagious,” I tease.
Finally, Weston dips his head and kisses Ethan’s forehead softly. “Goodnight, Ethan.”
The sight is so sweet, it almost makes me cry. I can tell that he used to be a great dad. Probably still is.
I turn off the light, and take Weston’s hand. I lead him to my bedroom. He’s the first man, the only man to have entered my bedroom, in this way. I’m not planning to break the agreement. I just want him to see the place where I dream, where I fantasize about the things I’d love to do with him.
He studies the space without a word, beiges and sky blues, accents of red. His gaze darts from my dresser to my bed, and back again. He studies the photo of Donovan and I. He walks over to the mannequin in the corner and takes in the beautiful red evening dress that I’ve only worn once, at a charity event.
“I know… there are too many throw pillows on my bed,” I joke.
He smiles. “Not at all. I’m a big fan of throw pillows myself.”
“Well, that’s quite unusual for a man.”
“Well, I’m not a usual man, Grasshopper. I thought you knew that already.”
“Oh… I do.”
He settles himself comfortably on my bed, amid the myriad of pillows. I want to tell him to get off my bed. I don’t like him there. He’s looking way too sexy in his slim fitting black shirt and pants.
“I like your room,” he says. “It’s soothing.”
“Thanks,” I tell him. “I like it too.” I remember first decorating it a few years before. I wanted something classic that wasn’t too feminine. The wall colors I chose are understated and somewhat masculine, and I chose the bed covers to match. I allowed myself pops of red in a single throw pillow, the dress, and a vase on the dresser.
I walk slowly to the bed, wanting to cuddle with him. He smiles as I near closer. “You stay right there.”
I stop dead in my tracks. “What?”
He bites his bottom lip. “I was thinking…”
I smile, wondering what he’s up to now.
“Now, you don’t need to do anything you don’t want to, but it’s in the agreement. It’s up to you.”
Uh-oh. I wonder what he has in mind now. Not knowing scares me, but it also excites me. A lot.
25
“What?” I ask curiously. “What were you thinking?”
He rakes a hand through his hair. “I thought it would be nice if you could undress for me.”
“Oh, you want me to strip for you?” I don’t know if I like the idea of that, of him seeing me slowly reveal myself to him in this vulnerable way. All of me. “Would you like a lap dance too?”
He laughs. “Well, that would be lovely as well. Only if you’re up for it, Grasshopper.”
I consider undressing for him. I’ve worn a sexy matching bra and panties set, virginal white, innocent. I’ve shaved my legs and waxed my bikini line. Truth be told, I had a feeling this kind of thing might come up. A woman should always be prepared.
“I thought… once you’re naked, and I get to admire you for a bit, I could help you into that red dress. I’d love to see you in it.”
I smile. “I’m not sure if it still fits. The last time I wore it was four years ago.”
“Well, let’s see, shall we.”
I shake my head, and turn from him for a moment as I contemplate doing this. Thankfully, I’ve had two glasses of wine and am feeling pretty loose and frisky. I honestly don’t think I could do this without the liquid courage.
I whip my hair as I turn around to face him with a seductive expression on my face. Or at least what I think is a seductive expression.
He smiles, urging me to continue.
“I need some music,” I tell him, and hop over to my chest of drawers where my speaker sits. My phone is right next to it, and I debate what song might be best. I finally decide on Run DMC Walk this Way. It’s upbeat, fun and kind of sexy.
I swivel my hips and sway, laughing. He seems amused and excited. I toy with my hair in that flirty way I’ve seen strippers do in movies and on TV. I wonder if I’ve ever seen a stripper in the flesh. I don’t think I have. I’ve lived a