Sebastian scowled.
“Why don’t you just leave him a note? You don’t owe that asshole anything.”
I disagreed but I didn’t want to get into a fight over it either.
“I guess I’ll find him later,” I said almost to myself.
“Can we talk about something else?” said Sebastian, mirroring my own thoughts.
I forced a smile.
“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
“Well,” he said, suggestively flexing his hips, “I woke up feeling horny and I’ve got this beautiful woman in my bed…”
“Sebastian!” I whined.
But he was already burying his face in my chest and nuzzling my breasts.
“I have to pee!” I moaned.
“Later.”
I guess that answered my question about whether he woke up every morning with a hard-on. There were definitely dangers to having an inquisitive mind.
Ten minutes later I had my head thrown back while Sebastian reared into me.
“Fuck!” he hissed, collapsing back onto the bed. “That was so intense! Jeez, Caro! You just about wrung me out there! What was that?”
“I told you I wanted to pee!”
He looked at me, utterly bemused.
“Yeah, and?”
“Well,” I said blushing a little, “it makes the, um, orgasm more intense if you have to, you know… Don’t look at me like that – I read it in Cosmo.”
“Wow! Really? Have you got any more trade secrets?”
I slapped him on his chest and stomped off to the bathroom, listening to his laughter roll out behind me.
Damn him!
I insisted that we get dressed, fearing the hotel staff would come at any moment to throw us out, so I put an absolute ban on shower sex on the basis that: a) I’d probably slip and knock myself out or break something, especially as I had a plastic bag covering the gauze on my right foot, and b) I just couldn’t take any more.
Sebastian had a full on pout, which made me laugh, and a full on erection, which didn’t. But we found a suitable compromise that satisfied us both, although my knees were red and sore afterwards.
I turned over the room key to the clerk as we checked out, embarrassed to think of the state of the place and grateful that I wouldn’t have to face whoever had to straighten it up.
I’d tried to tug the sheets into better order and mop up the worst of the spilled bathwater, but it still looked like a wild animal had been rampaging through the room, which, when I thought about it, rather summed up the way Sebastian had behaved all night.
I smiled, remembering the way our bodies moved together; the way his eyes told me he was mine and I was his; the love that my starved heart had craved for so long. The way love had turned to lust, and lust turned to need – raw and ready; sometimes soft, sometimes hard, sometimes gentle, sometimes rough. Our bodies coming together, melding as one; two pieces fitting together, over and over.
I remembered.
It was a beautiful day as we strolled out of the hotel; the early morning gloom was long gone and the heat of July was beginning to build. As usual, Sebastian was hungry and even though he’d eaten the cold carbonara and the remains of my couscous sometime between my fourth and fifth orgasms, he was ready for more food.
We grabbed coffee and rolls to-go and wandered along to my car feeling relaxed, if a little tired. Maybe that last bit was just me because Sebastian seemed to be fizzing with energy, talking happily about all the things he’d got planned for us in New York (going to baseball games seemed to figure rather more than I was expecting), but also walks through Central Park and, of course, checking out all the east coast beaches.
Here on the west coast, the surf was pumping and Sebastian gazed longingly at the barreling surf as we drove along the ocean road.
“Why don’t you call Ches and see if he wants to catch some waves?” I suggested.
Sebastian’s face brightened.
“Really? You don’t mind?”
“No, go ahead. I’ll meet up with you later. What time do you have to be at work?”