Chapter Three

April 5

AND A WONDERFUL world it continues to be as Eric and I curl up on my couch to watch a movie. We haven’t seen each other since coming home from our Disneyland trip, but I feel completely at ease with him again already. I was worried that everything would feel different once the magic faded, but we’re zip-ah-dee-doing just fine. Yeah, I went there.

We decided to watch Enchanted because Eric mentioned he’d never seen it after I referenced it on our trip. By referenced it, I of course mean I casually broke into one of the songs from the movie, but you get the drill. I like a man who can watch a Disney musical with me without getting sarcastic or snide. He doesn’t even seem to mind that I sing along a bit as we watch.

I can’t help but wonder if I’m in a similar situation as Giselle finds herself. No girl could be sad to end up with a prince like James Marsden (yum), but who could resist the equally yummy Patrick Dempsey character? I don’t think there is a wrong answer for her, but maybe there is a slightly more correct answer. Is that true for me too? And if so, who is Eric in this situation? Is Carter the only other contender at the moment? I thought Javier was still on the same page as me, but he might be in someone else’s book now.

That thought makes my heart ache for a moment and I quickly remind myself to come back to the present. Giselle is singing around Central Park about how to know if a guy really loves you and I catch Eric tapping his finger to the rhythm as he holds my hand. I smile as the song goes on and try to quell the rising feeling inside me that I’m falling for this guy a little too hard and a little too fast.

“Want some ice cream?” I say, getting up to go fix us each a bowl before even waiting for him to reply.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he says. “I hate to confess this, but I’m actually just dating you for the frozen treats.”

“I knew it,” I laugh. “Always the ice cream maker, never the bride.”

I can’t tell if there’s a bit of hesitancy in his laugh now that I’ve hinted at marriage during our second date. I make myself busy in the kitchen while he continues to watch the movie, then hand him a bowl so we can eat and watch at the same time.

“Mmm, this is delicious,” he says, approvingly. “What is it?”

“It’s your flavor.” I’m happy to hear he likes it. “I made it with you in mind. Do you taste the churro inspiration?”

“I do.” He takes another bite. “I had no idea I was this delicious.”

We meet eyes as he makes this remark, and my mind immediately goes straight down a naughty path at the implication that he might taste just as good. It looks like Eric is on the same train of thought as he’s now looking at me a bit more intensely than before.

We both set our bowls on the coffee table and kiss each other quickly. I can taste hints of the ice cream on his lips and it’s sweet and sexy at the same time.

“I have an idea,” he says, leaning forward to pick up his bowl. He pulls his spoon out of the bowl and dribbles some of the ice cream onto my neck. It’s already a bit melted, so it slides from there down my chest and into my cleavage.

Pleased with himself at this result, Eric begins to lick the ice cream off my skin until his face is buried between my breasts. He pauses for just long enough to pull my shirt off over my head, then grabs the bowl and drizzles more ice cream, this time more focused on the area that will soon make my bra a sticky mess.

He licks it off again, tantalizingly slow at first, teasing in his movements as he pulls down each cup to take first my left then my right breast into his mouth. I reach back to pull off my bra and Eric gives a delighted sigh.

“I couldn’t see you all that well in the dark and without my glasses before,” he says, admiringly. “You’re so damn sexy.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I say, pulling his shirt off over his head as well. In the better light, I can see him fully this time, and I smile at his pale chest, which I assume is the calling card of British men. He has spent most of his college life and career in labs, leaving little time for the gym, but he is strong enough and looks just fine to me.

He pulls me close, and I can feel the stickiness of my chest up against him as we kiss again. We’re still pressed together as Eric leans me back down onto the couch so I’m now lying with him on top of me. He kisses his way down my chest and stomach and stops to pull off my pants and underwear. He grabs the ice cream again and makes a trail of ice cream from my belly button down between my thighs and goose bumps form on my skin in anticipation of what’s to come.

He licks every drop of ice cream up again, but then reaches back to grab more. Methodically, he pools the next batch in and around my private parts and enthusiastically starts licking it off. I now know how they should teach young men to please a woman and it absolutely involves licking ice cream off her clitoris. In an effort to be thorough, Eric is hitting all the right places and making me feel like I could scream. His tongue is strong and active and after a few minutes and a couple more drops of ice cream from the bowl, I arch my back and let the sweet rush of this orgasm flood through my body.

Before I can sit up and offer to return the favor, Eric has stood up and removed his clothes. He sits back down on the couch, offers me a hand up, then brings me down to sit on his lap, so that we’re both facing the TV. I’ll admit it—this is the first time I’ve had sex while watching a Disney movie, but it’s surprisingly sexy. Eric has one hand on my hips, keeping us together as he thrusts me up and down in a bouncing motion, and the other hand holds my breast as he squeezes and pinches my erect nipples with just the right amount of pleasure and pain.

We finish at the same time the movie does and I laugh when I realize our climax comes right as the credits roll to the song “Ever Ever After.”

“Whoops,” he says, looking at the screen. “Guess I’ll have to watch it again to see how she decides which guy to end up with.”

You and me both.