Hmm, fast, hard sex… with Sebastian.
No, my muscles were still feeling the sting of last night’s activities.
“I’ll take a rain check, Chief.”
His expression was rueful.
“Okay. In that case, I guess we should get going.”
But his hands weren’t obeying the words his mouth was speaking.
“What are you doing?” I said, suspiciously, my eyes still closed.
“Nothing,” he said softly, as his fingers skated a little lower.
Then I gasped, and my eyes flew open. He was grinning at me, a devilish expression on his face.
“Sebastian!” I moaned.
“Shh, baby,” he whispered, then covered my mouth with his.
It seemed it was my turn after all.
I showered quickly, shooing him out of the bathroom when he tried to join me. I knew if he did, our road trip would begin and end with this bedroom, which didn’t sound so bad, but now, after all my arguments, I found I was looking forward to seeing Italy. With Sebastian.
His shower was even briefer than mine, and he dressed quickly while I packed up my clothes, cell charger, laptop and notebooks. Carefully, I wedged my camera case in among my T-shirts to give it as much protection as possible.
The camera was a Nikon D2Xs and it meant a lot to me: it had been one of the first things I’d bought myself, once I started making some money from writing. There were other, better digital cameras out there on the market, but this one had accompanied me all over the world, and it had never let me down.
“Do you want to get breakfast here?” said Sebastian. “You didn’t eat anything after lunch yesterday.”
His thoughtfulness was endearing. Yes, I remembered that: those brief moments when someone had put my needs before their own. Sebastian had been the first person to do that.
“No, it’ll take too long. You must know some little café we could stop at? Maybe on the lake?”
“Yeah, okay. But I need to swing by my place first and pick up a few things.”
We headed down to the lobby, and while I settled my bill, pushing the receipt in my pocket, glad that my newspaper had been paying for this expensive hotel, Sebastian went to retrieve his bike. I still wasn’t sure how he was going to get my case onto his motorcycle, even for the short distance to his apartment.
I realized I had no idea where he lived: it was going to be fascinating seeing his private world.
I heard the bike’s engine before I saw it; the throaty roar surprisingly familiar already.
God, he looked gorgeous in his leather jacket and denim stretched tightly over his toned thighs. I could daydream for hours about those. And the black helmet made him look dangerous.
He lifted up the visor.
“Give me the case, Caro.”
“Where are you going to put it?”
I handed it to him, feeling puzzled, but he just wedged it in front of him between the handlebars, and jerked his head at me to get on behind him.
Yes, sir!
I’d definitely have to tie him up again: he liked being in charge too much. Or maybe I should stop encouraging him by calling him ‘Chief’.
Certain that carrying luggage like this was highly illegal, we headed off into the city. I decided that if we got stopped, I’d try the innocent-and-clueless-tourist-abroad card.
Luckily, we made it to Sebastian’s place without incident.
His apartment, if you could call it that, was in an older part of the city where the architecture looked more Italian than Swiss. The cobblestone street was narrow and very quiet. I wondered where they’d got them from, so far from the sea. A river, perhaps?
Sebastian’s apartment was in a tall, thin building, with peeling stucco and weathered window shutters. It wasn’t at all what I’d expected. I’d imagined some chic bachelor pad, all glass and chrome – somewhere to take his conquests.
I pulled off my helmet, and clambered inelegantly from the mean machine. Sebastian swung his long leg over easily, smirking at me.
“Nothing to laugh at, Hunter. Just because you’re about a foot taller than me.”