"Quiet," Amber scolded. If she paid Eric's observations too much attention, she'd kick him out of bed and have him sleep on the floor, the mood would be so killed. Yes, she was looking for a distraction and being reminded of it wasn't advancing the cause. She refused to let herself repeat his words in her mind, focusing entirely on trailing her fingertips over the parts of his chest she'd already brought out of hiding. Such a simple action, and yet she found her heartbeat was slowing down from her previous anxiety.

Amber had been driven so far by the determination to forget. But reaching his tie and loosening it, the silk cool against the palm of her hands, helped her relax. It was okay. Eric was beneath her, smirking yet patient, gorgeous as ever. She'd told him downstairs that having him here helped, and now it was truer than ever. As she unwound, Amber was able to take action without deliberately planning out how to gain her desired effect. Without thinking, she raised her upper body, giving Eric the freedom to shift into a more comfortable position.

He could free her too. Amber was about to tell him to start undoing her own shirt, warming with arousal at the memory of all the other times she'd given him that same command. The kiss eased her mind further, drawing out her pleasure. They were together. Eric's touch would make her feel good, she knew it.

That was, if he could keep his mouth shut. Amber sighed. "Not now," she said. She wouldn't take back any of those fumblings-- well, except for maybe with one guy in particular-- but reveling in those trips back to the past was what she was trying to avoid. So much better to close her eyes and shiver as Eric finally, finally started undressing her. Yes. His touch was amazing, anchoring her to the physicality of their present. "Take my shirt off," she said low-- always low, they could be heard-- getting to the part he'd nearly ruined. Need started to throb inside her, demanding satisfaction, wherever, however. "Touch me, go on."