He surfed through a few channels before he found some badly-dubbed TV show, then grinned up at me, patting the space on the bed next to him.
I followed his lead, unlacing my boots and dropping them in the corner with my socks. I crawled up on the bed next to him, and he pulled me into his arms so I was resting against his chest. He kissed my forehead and settled back on his pillows with a sigh.
I snuggled into him, feeling surprisingly relaxed.
“This feels good,” he said, happily. “Should we order room service?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Would you mind if I ordered myself a beer?”
Just one beer?
“No, I don’t mind.”
He pulled the hotel telephone towards him to order a beer and a sandwich, then settled back with his arm around me.
With typical Swiss efficiency, the beer arrived within five minutes; the ‘sandwich’ – an enormous French baguette – was stuffed with cold meats, lettuce and tomato.
Sebastian’s eyes lit up.
“Food instead of sex?” I couldn’t help saying, reminding him of a running joke we’d once had.
He grinned at me, and licked his lips.
“For now. I’m still kind of hoping the sex comes later.”
“How’s that going for you?”
“Not sure: she’s playing hard to get. I was going to ply her with alcohol and have my wicked way with her, but I guess she’s wise to my game.”
“Women!” I said, rolling my eyes.
He laughed, and started to work on demolishing the sandwich.
When he’d finished and brushed the crumbs off his T-shirt, he lay back with the bottle of beer and wrapped his free arm around me again. He sighed contentedly and stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing his bare feet at the ankle.
“I could get used to this,” he said, nuzzling my hair.
“What, badly dubbed reruns of ‘Frasier’ and TV dinners?”
“You know exactly what I mean, woman.”
“Oh, ‘woman’, is it?” I said, thumping him on the chest.
“Yes, a beautiful, amazing, talented, gorgeous woman,” he said, his voice serious.
The mood shifted immediately, from relaxed and playful, to heated tension.
He placed his beer on the bedside table, then pulled me gently into his chest. With his fingertips, his free hand caressed my ear, gently sweeping my hair aside. His eyes studied my face carefully as he leaned in to kiss me, the lids fluttering closed at the last moment, before his lips touched mine.
His mouth drifted across my face, sweet, gentle kisses, as light as butterfly wings, hovering over my eyelids, brushing over my chin, then returning to rest on my lips.
My hand crept across his stomach, and slowly up towards his chest, pausing for a moment just over his heart. Then I lifted my hand to cup his cheek, and he turned his lips to kiss my palm.
He pulled me in more tightly, so I was half-lying across him, and he ran his hands up my spine while he kissed my neck. His kisses grew more urgent, and I felt him run his tongue over my throat. Then his teeth tugged on my lower lip, and his tongue dove into my mouth. I could taste beer and hot, delicious Sebastian.
I moaned onto his lips, and heard an answering growl from deep within his chest. I hooked my leg over his thigh, pulling our bodies closer together. Through his jeans I could feel that he was aroused, and the knowledge sent a jet of heat spiraling through my body.
His hands stroked my back through the thin cotton of my T-shirt as his kiss deepened. Then they dropped to the waistband of my jeans and he pulled the material free, running his strong fingers along my bare skin, toying briefly with the elastic of my bra, before dropping back down to cup my ass.
I shivered with desire, and his hands stilled.
“Are you sure, Caro?” he whispered.
I leaned away so I could gaze down into his beautiful eyes, softly massaging the small frown line between his eyebrows with my finger.
“I’m sure.” I sat up and pulled off my T-shirt to add emphasis to my words.