"I mean, I love it!" she screamed and jumped into his arms, kissing him excitedly. She burrowed her fingers into his hair and clung to his scalp as she deepened their kiss. His arms wrapped around her to draw her securely against his chest. Her feet were suspended at least a foot off the ground.
When they drew apart at last, he laughed. "Do you really like it?"
"Of course I like it. It's beautiful."
"Like you." Eric pecked her on the lips and set her on her feet. He dug around in the pocket of his jeans until he pulled out a matching bracelet and took her arm to fasten it around her wrist.
"Please tell me these are fakes," she whispered. She had a sinking sensation that he'd spent more on these two items of jewelry than she'd paid for her college education.
"Fake?" Now he looked offended. "Of course I wouldn't buy you fake jewelry."
"Sweetheart, you don't have to buy me anything."
"But I wanted to."
"Why?"
His brow furrowed. "I don't know. When I saw it in the window it reminded me of you, and I thought you would like it, so I bought it."
"You don't have to buy my affection," she said.
"That's not why … " The crease in his brow deepened.
"Don't frown, baby. I really do love it."
"Are you sure?"
She grinned. "It's the most beautiful gift I've ever received."
He released a breath of relief.
"But you know what means more?"
He pointed at her with a figurative lightbulb glowing over his head. "A ring?"
She chuckled and hugged him. "No, not a ring. That you thought of me."
"Well, I do that all the time," he said.
She tilted her head to look up at him. "And that's enough. I don't need jewelry, Eric. Just you."
"Oh." He grinned. "But you already have me."
"It's hard to buy for a girl who has everything, isn't it?"
His grin widened. "I do love you, woman. Are you almost done with your work?"
"I think I can take a little break."
She turned back to the soundboard and removed her thumb drive. She wasn't going to risk someone deleting an important file again. She never did find out who had done it before the last show. Better safe than sorry.
As they walked, Eric draped an arm around her shoulders. His strong fingers massaged her shoulder with that perfect touch. Her body was already responding to his on an instinctual level, her nerves humming in anticipation of the delights to come.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"I suppose we don't have time to fly to a tropical beach and make love in the surf."
"No, but I do have that mermaid costume. And you can be my lost pirate, seduced by my magnificent singing voice." She winked at him suggestively.
"You have a magnificent singing voice?"
She realized she couldn't lie because he'd heard her sing in the shower. "No, actually, but you do."
"I don't think I'd look good in a coconut bra." Eric ran his hands down his chest. "I'm sorely lacking in cleavage."
"Pirates don't wear coconut bras. They have eye patches and hooks and peg legs."
"Hooks, peg legs, and no depth perception. Sounds dangerous."
"You just need to focus on your booty and leave the moves to me."
"I'd rather focus on your booty as it moves against me."
She groaned at his corny joke. She'd walked right into that one.
"So how am I supposed to get between your legs if you have a tail, little mermaid?"
She stroked her new bracelet and watched the gemstones sparkle in the light while she contemplated his question. "Good point. Maybe mermaids just give blow jobs to the pirates they seduce."
"Lucky pirates."
Rebekah scowled. "Wait a minute. You won't even be able to reciprocate if I'm with tail."
"Okay, forget the mermaid. I've got a better idea."
Ten minutes later, Rebekah was wearing a French maid's uniform and had Eric naked with his wrists tied to the headboard with silk scarves. She took her feather duster and lightly flicked it over his chest. He laughed and tried to escape her tickling by sliding sideways across the mattress. And he'd wondered why she'd insisted on tying him down.
"Monsieur, you are so dirty. Hold still, please."
She feather dusted under his arm, and he tried to climb the headboard with his back. "No, no, stop," he gasped. "Tickles."
"My, my, such dirty ribs." When she tickled his rib cage, he tried to push her away with one large foot but was laughing too hard to follow her evasive moves.