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We arrive at the car and, unable to wait any longer, I take her face in my hands and kiss her deeply. My tongue pushes through her soft open lips. Her hands rest on my hips, and my cock begins to swell with every sweep of our tongues.
“What’s for dinner?” she asks, pulling away.
“I don’t know what you’re eating,” I say as I open her door, “but I’m eating you.”
Once in the car, we drive in silence, and I hold her hand in my lap.
She’s quiet.
“Are you tired, babe?” I ask.
“A little.” She kisses my fingertips. “What’s been happening here?”
“Nothing. I had surgery on Wednesday, and clinic all week. The apartment is lonely without you.” She presses my hand to her cheek as she watches me. But it’s a weird kind of look, as if she’s assessing me. Maybe she can sense my fragility. Perhaps it’s just in my imagination.
“I missed you,” she whispers.
Relief floods me. “I missed you, too… more than you know.”
We arrive home, and I put my hands over her eyes as we walk through the front door.
“I have a surprise for you.”
“What is it?”
I walk her into the living room and stand her in front of the wall and I take my hands away from her eyes. Her mouth falls open as she stares at the huge painting hanging on the wall.
While she was away, I had a photo of us on our first night in Majorca commissioned to be painted in a semi-abstract way. It was copied from a photo of her and me facing each other. We are holding hands and staring at each other dreamily on a bridge in front of the ocean. We look so deliriously happy. It was the night we went home and made love for the first time. I’d asked a stranger to take a photo of us, and this one was taken when we weren’t looking. Eliza loved the photo so much that she made it the background of her cell. I loved it so much that I made it the focus of our apartment.
Eliza stands still and stares at the huge painting on the wall.
“Do you like it?” I ask.
She nods, her eyes welling with tears. “It’s perfect.”
“What’s wrong?” I frown.
“Nothing. These are happy tears.” She takes me into her arms. “I love it. Thank you.”
We kiss as she holds me tight. She screws up her face against my chest, as if pained.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” I whisper, something is off with her.
“Nothing.” She smiles sadly and takes my hand in hers. “Come on, shower time.”
We walk into the bathroom and she lifts my shirt over my head as we kiss. I unfasten her dress and throw it aside. We stand in our underwear for a long time, kissing, drinking each other in. For the first time all week, I feel like I can breathe again.
“God, I missed you,” I murmur against her lips.
Her face creases and tears form again. An uneasy feeling washes over me. Something’s wrong, she’s never teary.
“What is it?” I frown.
“I’m just glad to be home. I’m over-emotional—hormones, probably.” She pulls me into the shower.
I pin her to the wall of the shower as my arousal escalates. We kiss like it’s our last kiss, and I lift her and she wraps her legs around me. Her soft, lush body pressed up against mine is the ultimate aphrodisiac. This is when we are at our best, when there is nothing between us. I grab the base of my cock and slide her down onto it. She moans, deep and loud as we stare into each other’s eyes.
I’ve missed her.
