"We're having dinner at my place tonight," Eric announced.
Ana pulled the thin sheet up over her body, tucked it around herself, and turned to face him. "Your place?" she asked in surprise. They'd been back from Santa Barbara for a week, and he'd spent almost every night at her place. He had yet to invite her to his, and Ana was beginning to wonder why.
Eric frowned. "Why are you covering yourself up?" he asked.
Ana flushed. "It's chilly in here."
He quirked a brow, and she grinned.
"You've made it clear you like what you see. I'm not hiding from you."
"Or running from me," he reminded her gruffly.
Her grin widened. "Or running from you," she agreed.
Eric closed the gap between them and gave her a quick kiss on the lips; it was a casual gesture and Ana basked in the easiness they'd somehow managed to settle into.
"I have to go, or I'm going to be late for brunch. Are you sure you won't come?" he asked.
Ana's teeth sunk into her lower lip as she shook her head.
"If you keep this up, Ana, you're going to give me a complex," he informed her as he moved into a sitting position and swung his legs over the side of her bed.
She laughed. "Keep what up?"
"You're avoiding my parents," he said, his features suddenly clouding over. "Did one of them say something to offend you at the wedding?"
"No!" Ana said quickly. "It's just…it's the parents, Eric. We've just found a way to make things work. I don't want to move too fast."
"Perhaps we should stop having sex, then," he suggested teasingly.
"Not funny."
"You're right," he agreed. "It just seems that every time we move forward, we somehow end up taking two steps back."
Ana pushed herself up onto her knees and crawled over to Eric. She pressed her chest against his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. "This isn't us taking two steps back," she promised.
His fingers circled her wrists and he tugged on them, crushing her upper body further against him. "Then what is it?"
"This is us being cautious."
She screeched when he spun around and flattened her body against the mattress. He leaned down, his lips claiming hers in a kiss that was designed to leave her wanting more. Abruptly, he pulled away. "My driver will be here at seven to pick you up. Use some of that flowery scent you always wear. I want my sheets to smell like you."
Ana stood in front of her closet, wishing not for the first time that Kate was here with her. She wasn't sure why she was so nervous. Kate would be able to put things into perspective for her, and it saddened her to think her friend was going to be away for an entire year. She sighed, forcing her attention back to the crisis at hand. Ana hated her tendency to overthink things, but it didn't mean she could stop herself.
She should have asked Eric if dinner was formal. Sure, it was at his place, but she wasn't sure what that entailed. Did he have a chef? Were they going to be served dinner? Was this some grand event she was supposed to be dressing up for? Or was she making too much of the entire ordeal? It was just his place, for crying out loud. They'd been doing dinner at hers for the last week.
Finally making up her mind that she was just going to treat tonight as a change of location, she decided jeans and a sweater would have to suffice.
Eric's driver showed up at precisely seven o'clock. He'd somehow managed to make his way to her front door without her even having to buzz him into the building—no small feat since one the main reason she'd chosen this building was because the landlord had boasted about its security.
The drive to Eric's passed quickly and before Ana knew it, she was whisked into an elevator. It didn't move until an eight digit code was entered—now that was security—and when the doors finally opened, she saw Eric standing halfway across the room holding two crystal wine glasses in his hands. He looked so sexy standing there in a pair of worn jeans that clung deliciously to his thighs, a long sleeved white t-shirt, and socks. The half grin that spread across his face when their eyes met made her heart leap.
"Thank you for delivering her safely, Taylor," he said without taking his eyes off her.
Ana stepped off the elevator and the door promptly closed with Taylor behind them.
"Ms. Thompson," he greeted as he strode forward.
"Mr. Miller," she returned.
Once he reached her, he lowered his head to hers for a quick kiss. "White wine?" he asked as he held a glass out for her.
She accepted the glass from him, then took a sip. "Delicious," she said suggestively.
His eyes darkened and reaching for her hand, he linked his fingers through hers, tugging her against him. "Did you have a good day?" he asked.
She nodded. "How was brunch?"
"My mother asked where you were," he said sternly.
Ana cleared her throat. "What did you tell her?"
"That you were bedridden," he said, eyes dancing. "I told her your thighs were sore, and—"
"Eric!" Her grip on his hand tightened, and he chuckled.
"I told her you'd be there next weekend," he informed her.
Ana nodded her agreement, and stepped forward. "Are you going to give me a tour, Mr. Miller?" she asked, changing the subject.
She stopped when he didn't budge, and gave him a questioning look.
"Of course," he said gruffly, placing his wine glass on the round table next to them.
She tugged on his hand again, but he pulled her back. "Not so fast, Ana."
She grinned at him. "Dinner first?" she asked.
"If that's what you'd like, but it's not going to be free."
She looked at him in confusion.
"The price of admission to the next room…is an orgasm in this one."
Ana's heart sped up, and she slammed her wine glass down onto the table next to his, the amber colored liquid sloshed over the sides. "Mine or yours?" she asked breathlessly.
He shrugged. "I'm flexible on that."
She dropped to her knees and reached for his zipper. "Let's start with you," she decided as she smiled sweetly up at him. "My gift for the host."