“Good idea,” muttered Sebastian. “I don’t think I could take a third interruption in one evening.”
The moon lit our path as we strolled back down the hill. The air was mild, much warmer than in chilly Geneva, but, of course, we were at sea level on this side of the Alps. I marveled again that in just a few days, we would be in the town where my father had been born. I don’t know why that filled me with expectation, but I was looking forward to walking where he’d walked, looking at the views that he’d have seen, maybe even talking to people he’d known. Italy was changing, but there were still places where the old folks lived and died in the villages where they’d been born.
When we got back to Casa Giovina, the villa was in near darkness. One, small lamp glowed in the hallway, and we crept up the stairs as if we were naughty teenagers.
I grabbed my toiletry bag before Sebastian could distract me and dashed into the bathroom, scrubbing the wine stains from my teeth, and then massaged a little moisturizer into my face with hope, rather than expectation, that it would erase any wrinkles.
When I returned to our room, Sebastian was already barefoot and shirtless. I dropped my toiletry bag from nerveless fingers, and he laughed at me.
“Seems like your eyeballs are the ones in danger of falling out, Ms. Venzi.”
“That is true, so hurry up and get your ass back in my bed.”
“Yes, boss!”
I stripped off my clothes, tossing them onto the chair, and threw myself into bed. Instead of it being the fairytale boudoir with the lacy net curtains that I’d imagined, the bed creaked alarmingly with every movement. I was horribly aware that the owner’s mother was in the room next to ours and didn’t sleep well. I stifled a giggle: it was not our night.
Sebastian returned, looking all hot and predatory. I was getting aroused just looking at him. But the thought of our noisy bed was making it hard not to laugh.
“What?” said Sebastian, looking annoyed that his entrance hadn’t had quite the effect he’d anticipated.
“Nothing,” I said, snorting back a giggle.
“What’s so funny?”
I shook my head, holding a hand over my mouth.
Huffily, he pulled down his pants and kicked them off, then slid his briefs down his slim hips. For practically the first time, there was no hint of an erection: my laughter obviously had a dampening effect.
He threw the sheets back on his side of the bed, looking sulky, then sat down and started to slide over to me.
The bed creaked loudly and his eyebrows shot up. I laughed out loud.
“Sorry! I think we got the you’re-not-married-so-you-damn-well-won’t-be-getting-any bed. It’s got a built-in anti-screwing alarm.”
Sebastian smirked at me. “You think a noisy bed is going to stop me?”
“The old lady is right next door! She ‘doesn’t sleep well’ – remember?”
“I can’t help that. Besides, it’ll bring back happy memories for her.”
“Huh, you think you’re that good?”
Uh-oh, wrong question.
He gave me a dark smile, and then his head disappeared under the sheets. I really wasn’t laughing now. I tried to stifle a groan as a powerful sensation, beginning at my toes, raced up through my entire body. I pulled a pillow over my face and moaned into the soft mound of feathers.
“Oh, God!”
“Yes, baby?” said Sebastian, his amused voice muffled by the sheets.
I heard him crawling back up the bed, the mattress articulating every movement, and he tugged the pillow from my face and grinned down. His long, skillful fingers continued to dip in and out of me, bringing me to the edge of orgasm. When he fastened his teeth over my left nipple, I fell, spiraling down and choking out his name.
“Still embarrassed by the bed?” he said, smiling at me wickedly.
The question was unfair: I wasn’t capable of speaking, let alone forming a rational answer.
The mattress creaked again as he slid off it to dig a condom out of his toiletry bag.