The Education of Caraline

I shrugged and left him to walk back down the stairs, chatting animatedly to the signora.

I was delighted to see that two enormous, fluffy, white towels had been laid out for our use. I started running the water immediately and peeled off my sticky clothes, enjoying the cool stone of the bathroom floor beneath my bare feet.

I ran the water as hot as I could stand it, then climbed in, luxuriating in the sensation. I wished Sebastian was there to share the moment – and to scrub my back – but it was rather wonderful to stretch out, too.

I lathered my hair, using shampoo that smelled like lemons, from the small pot that the signora left out for us, and then wallowed for a good half an hour. By which time, the water had cooled, but Sebastian still hadn’t returned. I let the water drain away and wrapped myself in the huge towel and boldly sat out on the balcony, enjoying the late afternoon sun.

I heard the mean machine before I saw it. I watched Sebastian drive along the street and stop at the villa’s entrance, before cutting the engine and pushing it around to the yard at the back. I wondered what on earth he’d been doing; he’d been gone ages.

I heard him running up the stairs and I called out to him.

“You missed a great bath. I’ve been sitting here enjoying the view – naked, except for a towel.”

He walked up behind me and kissed my damp hair.

“You’ve been gone ages; I was beginning to think you got lost.”

“Had some business to take care of, baby.”

I twisted around to look at him. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Come on, Hunter, spill. What business?”

Sebastian grinned and bit his lip, but I knew he was dying to tell me. It took about three seconds before he caved.

“Signora Carello told me somewhere I can rent a tux, so it’s game on for tomorrow night. We’re going upscale, baby.”

“Really?” I said, excitedly. “Where?”

He grinned down at me. “Can’t tell you. Not even if you torture me.”

“Are you sure about that? Because I think it can be arranged, Sebastian.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

He picked me up out of the chair and carried me into the bedroom. I fastened my arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily.

“Ugh, you’re all sweaty!” I complained.

“Yeah? Any objections if I get you all sweaty, too?”

“None whatsoever.”

And those were almost the last words we spoke for the next two hours, although I may have moaned his name several times. We got through three condoms and had seven orgasms between us.

I was a wreck, and I had no one but myself to blame. All my teasing and taunts had had quite an effect on the Chief. It was time to pay or play: I did both.

“Oh my God, I can’t move!” I gasped.

“Fuck!” said Sebastian, who was somewhat less loquacious than usual.

I lay there panting for several more minutes. I felt the bed move, but I was too exhausted to open my eyes.

“I know you’re looking at me, Sebastian,” I grumbled, “but whatever you have in mind you can just forget it. I admit it all: you’re an animal in bed, and I will never, ever question your virility again.”

He laughed softly.

“You can question it as often as you like, baby, because that just means I have to prove it to you.”

He dragged the sheet over us, and pulled me into his arms, where I flopped unattractively.

“Do you want to go find something to eat?” he said.

“Go? As in, leave the room? No, no. Bad, bad idea. Call takeout.”

“I don’t think they deliver to naked people in hotel rooms, Caro.”

I groaned.

“Come on, baby, time to get up.”

“I can’t,” I whined.

He left me lying in bed while he showered; I was nearly asleep by the time he returned. I heard him moving around the room, dressing and pulling on a pair of sneakers instead of his biker boots.

He sat on the bed next to me, and I realized he was holding my pink T-shirt in his hands.

“Not your color, Sebastian,” I mumbled.

“No, baby. I want you to wear it.”

“Why?”

“You look cute in pink.”

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