He shook his head, slowly.
“Fuck, Caro! You are so fucking amazing. Did I ever tell you that?”
“You may have mentioned it once or twice, but feel free to repeat yourself.”
He still looked baffled: it was so cute.
I slapped his chest. “Come on, let’s go shower. I’m hungry. For food.”
I jumped off the bed and headed for the shower. I’d already shampooed and conditioned my hair, soaped myself clean and dried off with a towel, before the Marine managed to stagger into the bathroom.
Jeez, and I thought these guys were supposed to be in good shape?
Nicole would be so disappointed.
Chapter 9
The shower revived Sebastian enough that I felt almost safe letting him take us on the bike.
“You okay?” I said. “You seem a little discombobulated.”
“Fuck, yes, and I don’t even know what that means,” he said, nodding his head. “Fuck, Caro, I can’t get over that. I mean, you barely touched me. It was just… hot.”
I smiled. “Ah, the power of words.”
“There’s going to be payback,” he promised with a devilish smile.
“Sebastian, if I wasn’t so damn hungry, I’d be dragging you back to the bedroom now and tying you down until you made a dishonest woman of me.”
He stared at me with admiration and not a little surprise.
“Jeez, you’ve gotten so… bossy. I like it.”
I laughed delightedly. “Oh, Chief, I think you’ve been taking orders from the wrong people – but I’m going to help you with that.”
“Can’t wait,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.
Then he pulled me into a hug and buried his face in my neck, tickling my skin with his warm breath.
“I have missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you, too, tesoro.”
We stood there quietly, his arms around me, each of us unwilling to break the spell.
Eventually, he rubbed my back and kissed my hair lightly. “Let’s go eat.”
Just three miles down the road was the pretty Marina di Cecina. Our friend at the beach shop had recommended that we eat at one of the restaurants on the waterfront. It probably belonged to an uncle or cousin, but it looked nice enough and had sensational views over the Mediterranean.
“What the hell is that?” said Sebastian, pointing at the menu. “Cipolline agrodolci alla Cinque Terre. Is that onions?”
“Yes, sweet and sour onions: it’s a local delicacy. You want to try them?”
“Normally I’d say yes, but I’m really craving… steak,” he said, apologetically.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re so American! You want fries with that?”
“Yeah, now you mention it. Anyway, I’ve got to keep my strength up: this woman I’ve met is milking me dry. She can’t keep her hands off me.”
“What a slut.”
He smirked at me. “Well, she hasn’t been that slutty, but I’d really like to see her in slutty stockings and garter straps – no panties.”
“Hmm, well I’m sure we can arrange it at some point, but I have to admit, Sebastian, I don’t actually own anything like that.”
He looked surprised. “Not at all? I thought all women…”
He stopped mid sentence, looking embarrassed, and wishing he could bite back the words.
“Maybe all your previous women, Sebastian,” I replied, rather cuttingly, “but no, not me, I don’t.”
Wisely, he buried his eyes in the menu.
“Sebastian, apart from you, I last had a date nearly three years ago. And there’s not a lot of need for slinky underwear on assignment to military bases – well, not for me, anyway. Maybe you know differently?” and I raised my eyebrows at him.
“Why don’t you date, Caro?” he asked, looking up, his voice puzzled. “I mean, you’re fucking gorgeous, anyone can see that, and you’re clever and funny. Any man would have to be blind not to want you.”
And I realized he meant it. Would I ever get used to hearing him say things like that to me? I hoped not.
“I’ve just… not been that interested. No one’s really caught my eye.”