When we hear Eric’s car, we quickly put everything away. He can’t know or notice we’re practicing this. Flyn runs to his study, and, when Eric comes to my room to look for me, he finds me sitting on the floor, looking at the computer screen.
“Why don’t you sit on a chair?” he asks.
“Well, because I like to sit on this fluffy, pricey rug. What’s wrong with that?”
He crouches down and gives me a kiss. He’s so handsome in his expensive blue coat and dark suit. His executive look is imposing, and it turns me on. He takes my hand and lifts me up; then, surprising me, he hands me a lovely bouquet of red roses.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”
I stand there, stunned.
My Iceman has bought me roses for Valentine’s Day, and I didn’t even mention it, and I don’t have anything for him.
“You’re my best present, sweetheart. I don’t need anything else,” he says reassuringly.
“I owe you a present. But for right now, I’ve got something for you.”
I take the packet of gum out of my pocket and show it to him. He smiles. I pull out a piece. I put it in. Amused by what that means to us, he asks, “So now you’re going to get hives, and your head’s going to spin around like the girl from The Exorcist?”
Our laughter is delicious.
“My green face and spots are the new style. What could be sexier for Valentine’s Day?”
Eric kisses me.
“Frida told me she’s going to a party at a swingers’ bar tonight. Do you know anything about it?”
“Yes. Luigi called to invite us to the Nacht, but I turned him down. You’re not up to a party, are you?”
“Well, no . . . but if I were more presentable, I would’ve liked to go.” Eric kisses me and bites my bottom lip.
“You naughty girl, do you need it that bad?” I laugh, and shake my head no, and he squeezes me against him. “There’ll be other parties. I promise.”
When he sees the look on my face, he says, “OK, sweetheart, what do you really want to ask?”
I smile. He’s getting to know me so well. I move close to him.
“Have you ever done a boy bang?”
“Yes.”
“Wow, nice!”
Eric laughs at my response.
“Darling, I’ve spent more than fourteen years practicing a kind of sex that’s still new to you. I’ve done a lot of things, and I assure you I’ll never want you to do some of them again.”
I’m looking at him, eager to know more, so he elaborates. “S and M.”
“Oh! I don’t want that,” I clarify. After hearing Eric’s laughter, I ask, “What do you think about orgies?”
Eric looks at me the way he does, and when my patience is about to run out, he answers, “Too many men between you and me. I’d prefer you didn’t suggest it.”
Before I can say anything else, he changes the subject. “I’m thirsty. You want a drink?”
Feeling in love, my rose bouquet in one hand and my other hand in Eric’s, I walk with him down the house’s long, wide hallway. As we enter the kitchen, Simona looks at me with a smile, and I get the surprise of my life. “Susto!”
The dog runs toward me, crazy with happiness, and I’m even crazier. After carefully hugging Susto and telling him a thousand sweet things, I look at my blue-eyed tough guy. Not caring that Simona is there, I hug him and murmur in Spanish, “Never mind the gang bang! You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I swear I would marry you right now with my eyes closed.”
Eric grins, in high spirits, and kisses me.
“You’re the most beautiful thing. And whenever you want . . . we can get married.”
Oh my God! What did I just say? Did I just ask him to marry me? I could die.
Susto jumps around us, and Eric tries to stop him.
“As you can see, I put the scarf you made on him. By the way, he’s totally mute.”
“Ooooh, I could eat you up, Iceman!” I say, laughing, and kiss him again.
Wrapped up in that lovely moment, I’m stroking Susto, who’s so happy, he won’t stop wiggling, and I see something in Simona’s hands. It’s a white puppy.
“And this little beauty?” I ask as I look at Eric in a daze.
Without letting go of my waist, he walks with me toward Simona.
“He was in the same cage as Susto. He seems to be the only one from his litter that survived, and they told me he must be about a month and a half old. Susto didn’t want to come with me if we didn’t bring this little guy too. You should’ve seen how he grabbed him in his mouth and came running out of the cage when I called him. After that, I couldn’t get the little puppy back in the cage.”
“You’re so kind, sir,” Simona murmurs.
“He’s the best,” I agree, happy. And then, looking at Susto, I say, “And you’re a helluva dad.”
“What I don’t know is what breed he is.”
I affectionately pick up the puppy. He’s plump and fluffy. A beauty.
“He’s a Heinz Fifty-Seven.”
All three of us laugh. A happy Simona goes to tell Norbert. I set the puppy down on the floor, and Eric holds Susto so he won’t jump on top of me.
“You like your presents?”
Delighted and in love, I choose not to question his change of heart and kiss him instead.
“They’re the best presents, darling,” I whisper. “And you’re the best.”
“Then I’m happy. They can stay in the garage for now, until we build a doghouse for them outside.”
“OK . . . But let them stay in the house tonight. It’s so cold.”
“In the house?” he asks.
At that very moment, the puppy, who’s walking along the floor, pees. A lot, given he’s so little! Eric looks at me. He’s trying so very hard.
“Inside the house?”
I wink at him and whisper, “To be clear, you just expanded the family. There are five of us now.” My German closes his eyes. He understands perfectly what I said, and before he can come out with one of his gems of wisdom, I hurry him along. “C’mon, Eric,” I say while I pick up the puppy. “Let’s give Flyn his surprise.”
“Won’t Susto scare him?”
I shake my head no.
Not making a sound, we head up to Flyn’s playroom. I carefully open the door and let the dog in.
“Susto!” the boy yells, and he hugs him.
Flyn’s laughter is wonderful. It’s so loud! And the dog flips over on his back so Flyn can scratch his belly. The boy seems completely happy for a while, until he sees something in my hands that catches his attention. His eyes grow as big as saucers.
“Who’s this?” he asks.
“When I went to find Susto, he was with him in the cage,” Eric says. “Susto didn’t want to leave him behind, so he came with us.”
Amazed, the little boy looks up at his uncle, and I put the puppy in his hands.
“This little one is going to be your superfriend and superpet. So, you have to give him a name.”
Flyn looks at his uncle, and when he sees him nod, he smiles. Then he looks at the white puppy.
“His name will be Calamar,” he says, after winking at me.
A huge knot of emotions wells up in my throat. The little boy holds out his thumb in front of me. I hold out mine, and we finish with a high five. Eric kisses me on the neck.
“Whenever you want, you know . . . ,” he whispers into my ear while we watch Flyn play happily, “I’ll marry you.”
31
As the days go by, my face goes back to the way it was, and when the doctor gets rid of the stitches on my chin under Eric’s careful eye, I’m pleased with his handiwork. You can’t see a scar, and that makes me happy.
After Susto and Calamar come to live with us, the house is full of laughter, barking, and craziness. For the first few days, Eric complains. He gets mad when he finds puddles of Calamar’s pee on the floor, but he finally throws in the towel. Susto and Calamar
adore him, and he adores them.
Many mornings when I get up, I like to peek out the window and see my Iceman throwing a stick for Susto to chase. It’s become a habit before he goes to work. Some weekends, I convince Eric and Flyn to take walks through the snowy fields with the dogs. Susto loves it, and Eric plays with him while Flyn runs around us with Calamar. I love all of it. Especially when I see how Eric crouches down and hugs Susto. My cold, hard Iceman is thawing out with every passing day, and I’m falling in love with him more and more.
I’ve also gone with Eric to the Olympic shooting field several times. I’m still not crazy about the whole gun thing, but I enjoy seeing how well he does it.
Flyn has gotten much better on his skateboard and his in-lines. He’s a smart guy, and he learns fast. We practice in secret when Eric’s out of the house. Simona smiles, and Norbert grumbles and warns me the boss will be angry when he finds out. I know he’s right, but I can’t stop teaching the kid. His attitude has changed so much, and now he’s always coming to me and asking for help.
Eric sometimes watches us, and he knows something’s happened between us to cause such a change in the boy. When he asks, I chalk it up to the dogs’ arrival in the house. He agrees, but I know he’s not convinced. He doesn’t ask again.
The first day I can secretly get away with Jurgen to let off steam on the bike is a blast. Spending so many days doing nothing in the house almost drives me crazy, so I jump, skid, and scream with Jurgen and his friends down the goat paths outside Munich. I think of Eric. I should tell him. The problem is I can never find the right moment. It’s starting to torture me. Our relationship is built on trust, and this time I’m letting him down.
One afternoon when I’m messing with my bike in the garage, Flyn arrives home from school. He comes looking for me, and when he finds me, he stares at the bike, obviously amazed. He says he remembers it. I tell him it’s his mother’s bike and he has to keep the secret from his uncle.
“Do you know how to ride it?”
“Yes,” I answer, my hands dirty with grease.
“Uncle Eric’s going to get mad.”
His words distress me. Everyone, absolutely everyone, knows Eric will get mad.
“I know, darling. But when he met me, Uncle Eric knew I did motocross. He knows it, and he has to understand I like to play this sport.”
“He knows?”
“Yes,” I affirm, smiling when I remember how he found out.
“And he lets you?”
That question doesn’t surprise me, and I try to clarify.
“Your uncle doesn’t ‘let me.’ I’m the one who decides whether I want to do motocross. We adults decide for ourselves, darling.”
Not seeming very convinced, the boy nods.
“Did Sonia give you my mother’s bike?”
“Would it bother you if she did?”
Flyn thinks about it.
“No. But you have to promise you’ll teach me,” he says, which catches me off guard.
I finally smile and let out a laugh.
“What, you want your uncle to kill me?”
Flyn laughs too, and we move on.
An hour later, Eric calls. He has a basketball game, and he wants me to go to the sports center. Delighted, I accept. I put on my jeans, my black boots, and an Armani T-shirt. I bundle up and call a taxi. When I get to the address he gave me, I smile when I see him leaning on his car and waiting for me.
Eric pays for the taxi, then smiles and kisses me hello.
When we get to the locker room, he kisses me again.
“Check out the stands. I’m sure Frida’s there.”
Delighted by life and love, I walk toward the court. Frida’s there with Lora and Gina. They accept me as Eric’s girlfriend now, and I’m thankful for that. Lora, the blonde, smiles at me and says, “My heroine’s here.”
I look at her, surprised.
“I heard you gave Betta what was coming to her,” she whispers.
I give Frida a look as if scolding her for telling.
“Don’t look at me. It wasn’t me,” she protests.
Lora smiles. “The woman who was out with Betta told me,” she says.
“Please, don’t let Eric know.”
Everyone gives me signs of approval, and not long after that, the boys come out on the court. Unsurprisingly, seeing Eric so agile and active while he runs down the court really gets me going. But this time, in spite of his effort, they lose the game by three points.
When it’s over, we go down to the court, and Eric gives me a sweaty kiss.
“I’m going to take a shower, darling. Be right back.”
Frida and I are the only ones in the little room where we usually wait for them. Lora and Gina have left. We gossip, having fun, until Eric and Andrés come out.
“Change of plans, babe. We’re going home,” Andrés says.
Frida complains, surprised.
“But we said we’d meet Dexter at his hotel.”
Andrés nods. “I’ll cancel the date. Something came up I have to take care of.”
Frida grumbles.
“Who’s Dexter?” I ask.
“A friend who we play with when he comes to Munich,” says Frida. “Eric knows him too, right?”
My boyfriend nods.
“He’s a great guy.”
Playing? I feel my body respond, and I lean into Eric.
“Why don’t we go on that date?”
He looks at me, seeming surprised.
“I feel like playing. C’mon . . . let’s go.”
My Iceman smiles and looks at Frida; then he looks back at me.
“Jude, I don’t know if you’d like Dexter’s game.”
Taken aback, I look at him. When I see he has nothing else to say, I ask Frida, “He’s into S and M?”
“Yes and no,” Andrés answers as Eric laughs.
Frida shrugs her shoulders.
“Dexter likes to dominate, to play with women and give orders. He’s not exactly into S and M. He’s demanding, horny, and insatiable. I have a great time when we see him.”
Eric waves goodbye to one of his teammates as he leaves and holds me around the waist.
“C’mon, let’s go home.”
I say insistently, “Eric, I want to meet Dexter.”
My Iceman stares at me for a long moment and finally gives in. “OK, Jude. We’ll go.”
Andrés calls Dexter and tells him about the change of plans. Dexter accepts, and Andrés says he sounds delighted.
We get back to our respective cars and say goodbye, and my guy and I disappear into Munich traffic. He’s quiet. Thoughtful. I sing along to a song on the radio. Suddenly, he’s stopping at the curb in front of a building.
“Do you really want to play that badly?”
His question surprises me.
“Hey . . . if it bothers you, let’s not. I thought you might be into it.”
“I told you sex is a supplement for me, Jude, and . . .”
“It’s the same for me, darling,” I agree. But looking him straight in the eye, I explain. “You’ve showed me this is about two people, not one. When you suggest it, I go for it. Why can’t you go for it when I suggest it?”
He doesn’t answer; he just looks at me.
“In the end, it’s a supplement we both enjoy, right?” I say, shrugging.
Eric just breathes for a moment. “Dexter is a good guy,” he says in a sweeter voice. “We’ve known each other for years, and when he comes to Munich, we usually see each other.”
“To play?” I ask sarcastically.
Eric nods.
“To play, have dinner, a drink, or just do business.”
“Does it turn you on, my asking to play with him?”
My German sets his impressive eyes on me.
“Very much,” he says.
I nod, and Eric tells me to get out of the car. It’s bitterly cold. I slink deeper into my red down coat and walk hand in hand with him. He holds on to me, sure o
f himself. His hand fits around mine so well. I see we’re going straight to a hotel, NH München Dornach.
When we go in, Eric asks at the desk for Mr. Dexter Ramírez’s room. They tell us the number, and, after calling to confirm our arrival, Eric and I get in the elevator. I’m nervous. Eric smiles with his hand around my waist. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. I promise.”
We get to a half-closed door. Eric knocks with his knuckles, and I hear someone say in Spanish, “Eric, come in.”
Eric takes me by the arm, and we walk in. He closes the door behind us.
“Be right there,” someone says.
We walk into a spacious, pretty room. To the right is an open door through which I see the bed. Eric watches me. He knows I’m looking at everything with curiosity.
“Excited?”
I look at him and nod. I’m not going to lie; I’m already getting wet. At this moment, a man Eric’s age comes into the room, rolling in his wheelchair.
“Eric, cuate! How’s it going?”
They clasp hands, and then the man looks me up and down.
“And you must be Judith, the goddess who has my friend so stupefied, or should I say in love?”
“Exactly,” I answer. “And for the record, I love keeping him stupefied and in love.”
After swapping an amused glance with Eric, the man takes my hand and kisses it.
“Goddess, I am Dexter, a Mexican who falls humbly at your feet,” he murmurs gallantly.
I smile at his greeting, though I’m surprised to see him in a wheelchair. He’s so young! After I’ve chatted with him for five minutes, it’s easy to see the vitality and good vibes he gives off.
“What do you two want to drink?”
We tell him, and Dexter opens the minibar and prepares the drinks. He watches me while he does it, and Eric kisses me. When he gives us the drinks, I take a big thirsty sip of my Rum and Coke.
“I like your woman’s boots.”
Surprised by that comment, I touch them.
After kissing my neck, Eric says, “Darling, take your clothes off.”
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