Stacy's Dad Has Got It Going On (12 page)

For a moment, she watched him open and
close cupboards, obviously looking for something—probably a bowl to dump the
popcorn into—but for some reason she didn’t feel inclined to help him find it.
As she watched him roaring through her kitchen in his pajamas, she felt
perplexed about something, but she wasn’t sure what or why.

When he returned with her soda glass
and a big bowl of popcorn, Eric looked inexplicably young again. A sense of
embarrassed relief came over Savannah, and she smiled in spite of herself. “Did
you also know,” she asked, “that up until Lucy and Ricky, no other married
couple had slept in the same bed on a TV show? All those other black-and-white
TV couples slept in twins like Bert and Ernie.”

Eric laughed and sat down beside her
on the couch. “Oh, Savannah, sweetheart, did you bump your head when you fell?”

There was deep concern seated in his
gaze, and it puzzled Savannah. “What do you mean?”

Kissing her forehead, he said, “We had
this very same conversation the first night I was here.”

That was true, wasn’t it? Her
forgetfulness made her cringe. Maybe he was wondering if she was losing it, or
plotting to take her to the hospital to have her head examined. “Anyway,” he
chuckled, “you’d better stop asking these questions or I’m liable to tell you
about a time before there were TVs in every household.”

“Oh, come on,” she said as he wrapped
a deliciously warm arm around her shoulder. With a mouthful of fake-buttery
popcorn, she went on, “You aren’t really that old.”

He wriggled his eyebrows. “Aren’t I?”

Her stomach sunk a little as she
snapped off a piece of the chocolate bar Eric passed to her. Had she told him
she loved the kind with almonds and toffee? She couldn’t recall. Maybe they
just happened to like the same kind of chocolate. That was a pleasant thought.
And, hey, what difference did age make? It wasn’t like they were getting
married or anything.

Cuddling in against Eric’s shoulder,
she smiled and snacked and watched Lucy on TV. It’d been so long since she’d
spent this kind of time with a guy. Her most recent boyfriend had been such a
go-getter with no time to sit down and veg. He was always up and doing things:
socializing, running, working, networking, For him, sitting on the couch in
front of the boob tube was a waste of time, even if it was time spent with
Savannah. Eric’s obvious desire to be around her doing nothing in particular
made her feel special.

“Stacy’s mom always thought my TV
shows were stupid.”

Savannah’s stomach plunged and she
felt her arms go stiff. She knew exactly which road they were headed down. Of
course, listening to Eric talk about all his relationship stuff was the
sensitive thing to do, but she really didn’t know how to respond. She pushed an
“Oh” out of her mouth, but even that was a challenge.

“Yeah,” he went on. “Hilary and I
never had the same taste in anything. She didn’t even like my spaghetti…and I
make good spaghetti!”

“Had?” she choked. Maybe he wasn’t
going back to this woman after all. Savannah wasn’t sure how she felt about
that.

Eric laughed at whatever had just
happened on screen—Savannah was too busy watching the stress on his face to pay
attention to Lucy’s antics. “Do you like the Three Stooges?” he asked without
taking his eyes off the TV.

Thank god! The impending conversation
of doom seemed to have passed. “Yeah, I do. I know girls aren’t ‘supposed’ to,
but I do.”

Shaking his head, Eric chewed his
popcorn. “Hilary doesn’t like them. You know, she and I have next to nothing in
common. Never really did. It’s strange how couples end up together, isn’t it?
You fall in love with someone, you get married, and ten years later you have
absolutely no idea what you saw in her.”

Savannah bit her lip. “Yeah.” What the
hell else was she supposed to say? Realistically, she’d never been in a
relationship long enough to have any clue what he meant.

“And now this whole thing with the
young guy—and I know what you must be thinking: I only made love with you to
get back at Hilary. And maybe you’re right at a certain level, but I want to
assure you that was not my overriding concern.”

“I know,” she said quickly, hoping to
interrupt his train of thought. Eric wasn’t making all that much sense. And,
seriously,
made love
? Is that what they’d done? As far as she was
concerned, they’d fucked in the shower, plain and simple.
Making love
was a little extravagant for her blood.

“But, you know, the first thought that
jumped into my mind when I walked in on them together was, ‘I deserve this.’”
He spoke without taking his eyes off the TV, and laughed when Lucy got herself
into a sticky situation. “That’s really what I thought.”

“Why?” Savannah asked before she could
stop herself. “Did you cheat on her?” And then, of course, it occurred to her
that’s precisely what they’d done in the shower. “I mean before…”

“No,” Eric said without wavering. “No,
and you already asked me that question, too.”

Had she really? Oh, that’s right, she
did—and it was only a few hours ago that she’d asked it. How embarrassing that
she should repeat herself.

Eric didn’t say anything more and she
didn’t push the issue. Anyway, she had no desire to comfort him if he broke
down. He seemed in a happy enough mood at the moment, but why wouldn’t he be?
Post-coital Lucy and a variety of snack foods: what more could any man ask?

Chapter Thirteen

Had she nodded off for a minute or
two? Stupid VCR clock still wasn’t set. Her head rested on Eric’s warm chest as
it rose and fell like clockwork. God, she was sweating in her terrycloth robe.
Why was she so hot? The TV blasted yet another Lucy episode, and when she
reached for the remote, her ankle screamed.

Jumping out of sleep, Eric muttered,
“What? What’s…what?”

“Ah, my fucking ankle!” she cried. She
didn’t like to swear, but it hurt like hell.

Eric rubbed his face and mumbled,
“Stop being so difficult. Just let me take you to the hospital already.”

“No,” she whined.

His head fell back against the sofa
and he let out a sleepy moan. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Nothing. I just know there’s nothing
wrong with me!”

“Except that you scream when you
move.”

“I was asleep,” she tried to explain.
“I forgot it was going to hurt.”

Eric rolled off the couch with a look
of confusion settling on his face. He scratched his belly as he looked around.
After a moment or two, his eyes lit up—as much as a half-asleep person’s
could—and he grabbed a pair of pants.

“What are you doing?” Savannah asked,
perhaps a little too firmly. She wasn’t awake enough to control her emotions.
“I’m not going to the hospital.”

“Yes you are,” Eric replied simply.
But instead of pulling off his pajama pants and pulling on his jeans, he
collapsed beside her on the couch. “Just give me five more minutes.”

She sighed and reached again for the
remote, this time with more care. “See?” she said, turning down the volume. “As
long as I don’t move too quickly, I’m fine. I’ll just put another round of ice
on my ankle and in the morning I’ll be healed.”

Eric’s eyes popped wide open at the
mention of ice. “You know, that’s not a bad idea.” Pressing both hands down on
the couch, he pushed himself up and hobbled like a drunken uncle over to the
kitchen. He sighed as he opened the freezer. The cold seemed to revive him. He
brought the tray out and snapped it back and forth before dumping the ice into
a metal mixing bowl. Even before leaving the kitchen, he picked up one piece
and traced it along the base of his jaw and down his neck. “That’s better,” he
said. “Nothing like ice dripping down your neck to wake a guy up.”

“If you say so.” Savannah chuckled.
“That’s never been my game.”

He brought the ice to the TV room and
sat on the coffee table before placing the ice-cold metal bowl on her ankle.
She flinched, but she didn’t move her foot away. Anything so unnerving must be
a help.

“How does that feel?” Eric teased.

“Like hell.”

He moved the bowl from her ankle and
set it on top of a magazine. From it, he swiped a single cube. Savannah cringed
as she watched it coming for her, but when the ice made contact with her skin,
she was surprised to find it wasn’t painfully cold. If anything, it tickled.

“How about this?” Eric asked, tracing
the cube around her slightly-swollen ankle. “How does this feel?”

The ice melted quickly between his
fingers and her flesh. Droplets of water trickled down her foot and dripped
from her heel onto the throw pillow it was set upon.

“Good,” she said. To her surprise, it
was true. “It feels really good, actually.”

“What if I do this?” Eric asked,
picking up a fresh cube and tracing it up the inside of her calf. Shifting her
robe aside, he circled it around her knee before drawing it slowing up her
thigh. The cold made her tremble now. She felt its effects more between her
legs than she had against her ankle. A whole line of water droplets tumbled
down her inner thigh, soaking the terrycloth beneath her. She knew where he was
going with this, and she wanted to show him she was on board.

Savannah untied her belt and let her
robe fall open at the front. Her breasts were warm and soft with sleep. “Do my
tits,” she bid. “With the ice. Make them hard.”

A churlish grin bled upon Eric’s pink
lips. “You want me to?”

“Yeah.” She even cupped her breasts
and held them for him. Couldn’t he see they wanted him too? Her whole body
wanted him over again, but her breasts wanted him first. He lifted his ice cube
slowly, overshooting her tits. For a moment, she was sure he was heading for
her neck, but then he brought the ice toward himself like a child jealously
guarding a favourite toy. With a fiendish smile, he took the cube between his
lips and held it there with his teeth. It must have been damn cold, because he
closed his eyes and hissed, but he didn’t remove the cube.

Droplets fell against Savannah’s chest
as Eric came in close and traced the ice slowly around her lips. She could feel
it melting before it even came in contact with her flesh. When the ice did
touch down on her mouth, it knocked the sleep right out of her system. She was
wide awake now, and she wanted everything Eric had to give.

Pulling his head in close, she kissed
him hard. The ice cube floated in their mouths, jumping from tongue to tongue.
The passion between Savannah’s mouth and Eric’s was far too hot for any little
ice cube to survive. It was gone in what seemed like mere moments, and Eric
leaned back to grab another. “I believe your beautiful breasts were next on the
list,” he said.

But Eric had proven his ability to
sexually ad lib. She trusted him to use his own mind. “Surprise me.”

In seconds, the new cube met the hot
spot behind Savannah’s ear. She jerked her head away, but Eric caught it and
held it steady. The cold pervaded her senses as water dripped down her neck. He
traced the ice down fast, like a little skier zooming down the side of a mountain.
When he arrived between her breasts, the ice cube bled out. By the time its
steady stream had drizzled down her belly and into her pubic hair, the water
was warm. Savannah’s skin was so damn hot it could turn ice into warm water.
The very thought made her feel attractive. The look of lust in Eric’s eyes made
her feel all the more so.

“Do my tits,” she said once again. It
wasn’t that she thought he’d never get there, only she knew how sexy her voice
sounded when she said it. A voice raspy with sleep saying naughty words like
“tits”? What man could resist?

“Are you sure you can handle it?” Eric
asked, tracing the underside of one breast and then the other.

She wiggled her eyebrows and smiled.
“Try me.”

That little devil Eric slid the
melting ice cube up and around her left breast while he took her right nipple
in his mouth. It was hot where he sucked. It was cold where he glided the ice
in small circles. The contrast of hot and cold took her breath away, and she
threw her head back against the couch. “Oh my god,” she hissed, running her
hand through his fine blond hair. “Oh god, Eric.”

“I’m sorry,” he mocked, kissing
between her tits. “Do you not like that? I could stop.”

Grasping hold of his hair, she said,
“You’d better not, or I’ll come after you with that ice and I guarantee you
won’t like where I put it.”

“Good luck catching me with that bum
leg,” he teased.

All this time she’d forgotten to be in
pain, but as soon as he mentioned her ankle, it ached again. “Just do my tits,”
she said, pressing his face against her breast. Savannah could take charge if
she had to. In fact, she enjoyed putting a man in his place, even if that man
was as sweet and kind as Eric.

He sucked her right nipple in his
mouth until the ice against her left nipple had melted clean away. The cold
felt sharp and good, and it made her nipple stand erect like a good little
soldier. Eric stared at it, and his gaze of approval made her feel like she was
exuding feminine power. Then, he put his lips together and he blew. He forced
cool air at her hard nipple, and its tight flesh tingled and firmed. Her nipple
stuck out straight like a pencil eraser, and the more he blew on it, the longer
it grew.