Chapter 11
At some point, not long after dawn, I woke.
Sebastian’s arm was still draped over my waist but I must have turned in the night because now I was facing him. His lips were slightly parted and he was breathing softly. I thought he must be dreaming because his eyelids fluttered and he frowned.
A pale gold stubble covered his cheeks, upper lip and chin. It was soft, nothing like five o’clock shadow and he looked so young and very beautiful.
His tan was deep over his arms, back and chest, then vanished completely, leaving his buttocks and hips a creamy white that changed again to gold on his legs.
The low angle of the sun cast long shadows that highlighted the definition of his muscular chest and stomach and I reveled in the thought that for a few more hours—and for another whole night—he was mine.
I hardly dared to imagine how it might feel to wake up like this every morning, feeling such peaceful joy. And I refused to think about what would happen when our weekend was over.
I spent another minute drinking in his beauty before I tore myself away to use the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” he said sleepily, blinking up at me.
“To pee,” I whispered. “Go back to sleep.”
But when I returned to the room, the bed was empty. For a heart-stopping moment, I thought he’d left. Then I saw his sneakers, t-shirt and briefs, all still strewn on the floor. Only his jeans were missing.
I stared with some distaste at the blood on the sheets. At least I didn’t get really heavy periods and they didn’t last long. Even so…
I heard soft footfalls behind me and turned to look. Sebastian was carrying two glasses of orange juice and wearing, well, half-wearing his jeans.
He’d pulled them over his hips but only bothered to fasten half of the fly buttons. He was beyond sexy; I felt my face getting hot—and then I remembered I was standing there naked—and blushed everywhere.
I scooted back into the bed and under the sheet.
Sebastian looked at me like I was a little crazy.
“I wanted to make you breakfast,” he said, shrugging slightly, “but I can’t cook. I can, however, pour a mean glass of juice.”
He passed me a tumbler and I took a long drink.
“Why, Mr. Hunter, you can indeed pour an amazing orange juice.”
He smirked, then tipped the rest of his drink down his throat in one swift gulp. How the hell did men do that? It was a complete mystery to me.
“Well, let me make you some breakfast: what would you like? Eggs, pancakes, bacon, omelet?”
“I already told you yesterday,” he said.
I frowned.
“You. I want you for breakfast.”
He put his glass on the bedside cabinet and slowly walked toward me, his eyes never leaving my face. His expression made me breathless.
“Sex rather than food today?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I looked at the alarm clock. It was 6.45 AM.
“We’ve got about three hours before I have to drop you off. Do you think that’s enough time?”
He shook his head.
“Not really.”
Then he leapt on the bed, making me shriek with surprise. I spilled orange juice down my chest and onto the sheets.
“Sebastian!”
He ignored me and started lapping the juice from my bare skin. I nearly melted from the heat of his touch, but just about managed to place my somewhat emptier glass on the bedside table.
I scrabbled to pull off his jeans but he was too intent on working his way down my body. It was neck and neck who was going to have their way first.
Sometime later, some considerable time later, the alarm went off.
We were both lying on our backs breathless. Again. I felt like I’d just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson: every muscle ached and I was bathed in sweat. Sebastian had been tossing me around the bedroom for nearly two hours. He lay with his eyes closed and a blissful expression on his face.
The alarm clock had inconveniently been knocked out of reach. I struggled to sit up, crawling the length of the bed and fumbling on the floor to find the obnoxious electronic box.
Sebastian tried to bite my ass, which didn’t really help my coordination.
“We need to get up!” I moaned.
He didn’t reply.
“Up!”
“I am up,” he mumbled against my skin.
Again? Oh, my God!
“Time for a shower. Go! Now!”
He grumbled a bit more but eventually rolled off the bed, allowing me to get up and pull on my robe. I glanced around to see him stumble into the bathroom. It was true: he was up.
Smiling to myself, I headed down to the kitchen and rummaged around in the refrigerator. As he hadn’t managed to express a preference, I decided to make a cheese omelet with bacon on the side.
I was still grilling the bacon when I heard him running down the stairs. There was a huge thud and I guessed he’d jumped the last three or four steps. His exuberance made me smile. And where the hell did he get all that energy?
He wrapped his arms around my waist without hesitation and nuzzled my neck. I nearly dropped the spatula.
“What can I do?” he said.
I was surprised. No man had ever said that to me in my kitchen before. I turned and smirked at him.
“Just sit there and look decorative.”
He threw me an amused look and stretched his long legs under the kitchen table, rocking the chair back on two legs, just like he had last night.
To have him sitting at my breakfast table felt wonderfully new and wonderfully natural, all at the same time.
When I served up the food, I put most of the omelet on his plate and four out of five of the pieces of bacon. He didn’t even seem to notice the uneven distribution; he was so intent on getting the food into his stomach in the shortest time possible.
I was still chewing when he pushed his plate away. He glanced around to see if there was anything else to eat. Really, his appetites were enormous in all sorts of ways. The last ten hours had been a revelation.
“Toast?”
“Please!” he said happily.
I cut four slices off a new loaf and shoved them all in the toaster. “Do you want jelly?”
He pulled a face. “Nah, just butter, please.”
“Don’t you have a sweet tooth?”
“Only for you.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Where do you stand on chocolate? I’m serious! It’s an important question!”
“You like chocolate, Caro? What sort?”
I could see what he was thinking: sometimes he was so easy to read.
“I don’t want you to buy me any, Sebastian.”
“Why not?”
He pouted and I wanted to laugh.
“Because we’re saving our money for more important things.”
He sighed. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Mind you,” I said, slyly, “I wouldn’t mind licking some melted chocolate off you—I bet that would taste really good.”
For a moment he looked a little shocked, then a huge grin spread across his face.
“Yeah! That sounds hot!”
“I’ll see what I can do for tonight.”
He groaned.
“What?”
“I’ll have that image in my head all day now! I’ll be a walking hard-on!”
“It’s one way of increasing tips at work,” I said, laughing at him.
He shook his head and looked embarrassed. He was so easy to tease. I really wasn’t being very fair.
I glanced at my watch. It was nearly ten o’clock.
“Time to go,” I said, trying not to sound too bereft.
He scowled.
“I’ll call in sick.”
“You can’t do that,” I said patiently. “For a start, Ches will be knocking on your door in about 20 minutes; and secondly, word is sure to get back to your mom—do you really want her asking awkward questions about where you’ve been?”
He sighed. “I guess not.”
“Come on. Go be a lifeguard.”
I cursed the day I’d left those empty packing crates in the garage. Instead of being able to drive my car inside it, so Sebastian could make a discrete exit from the house, I had to reverse the car right up to the front door so he could sneak in the passenger side with the least chance of being seen. By now it was broad daylight and I was anxious. I tried to come up with some excuses just in case—some reason as to why Sebastian was in my house at this time in the morning. Nothing sounded convincing. I just crossed my fingers. How very mature.
Luckily, very luckily, we got to the park without incident.
“Text me later?”
“Okay,” he promised. “See you tonight. Love you!”
He slammed the door and waved goodbye. I watched him jog across the park and with a last glance, I made an illegal U-turn and headed off to the store. I wanted to make him something special for our last night together. And to buy some chocolate.
I’d just parked outside the store when my phone beeped. Sebastian hadn’t wasted any time before texting me. But when I checked the message it was from David.
* Flight lands 2115. I need dress uniform drycleaned for formal on Monday. *
And hello to you, too.
The message put me in a bad mood, reminding me that by tomorrow evening I would have to be that person again—loyal wife, spineless factotum. I didn’t know how the hell I was going to do that.
“Hello, Caroline. How are you? You look a little tired.”
Donna stood behind me with a piled up cart and a kind smile on her face. She patted my arm as my brain attempted to click into gear.
“I know, dear,” she said. “I never sleep well when Johan’s away either. I think I miss his snoring!”
I tried to smile and her face creased with concern.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, thank you, Donna. I just got a message from David—he wants his dress uniform drycleaned for Monday. Now I’ll have to go back to the house to get it.”
“Oh my. Did you forget to look at the schedule again?” she teased me.
I couldn’t help laughing.
“Yes! You’d think I’d have learned by now.”
“Well, I’m glad I caught you. I was wondering if I could ask you to bring something for the picnic tomorrow. Maybe some of your delicious cold pasta? Just for our group.”
“Oh, of course! I was going to bring some sandwiches, too, if you like?”
“How wonderful! Yes, please. I think it’s going to be a fun day, and it looks like we’ll be blessed with the weather. Would you like me to pick you up? There isn’t a huge amount of parking, and the organizing committee has asked us to carpool. Besides, you haven’t met my boys yet. They’re back from college now.”
“Oh, yes, that would be lovely,” I stuttered, feeling under pressure. “Thank you!”
“I’ll pick you up at 11 AM then. And do try and get some sleep tonight, dear. You’re far too young to look so tired. You don’t want to end up with bags under your eyes like mine. Well, I have suitcases rather than bags.”
Truthfully, I wasn’t planning on getting much sleep during the night, but maybe I could take a nap later. I wondered briefly if I should let Sebastian get some more sleep—he’d probably only had about four hours last night and he was working all day. But then again, he was young—and I couldn’t imagine him agreeing to sleep when I was fairly certain he would have other things on his mind. The thought made me smile.
Damn it! I’d forgotten to ask Donna how many people were part of the ‘group’ that she’d mentioned.
Moving slowly up and down the aisles, I filled the cart with focaccia rolls, cold cuts and some fresh pasta. I felt a bit guilty buying store-made pasta but figured no one but me would be any the wiser. I also bought some lamb chops, potatoes and salad for Sebastian. And a jar of chocolate sauce. Although that was more for me.
As an afterthought, I picked up a few of David’s favorite foods, too. He was always more amenable on a full stomach.
It was getting harder to buy 35mm film, especially in black and white, but I managed to find a few rolls. I wondered if I’d be able to buy a digital camera when we moved to New York. I had no idea how much they cost. I’d be sorry to stop using my dad’s SLR, but the price of buying and developing film was an additional cost I could well do without. A cost we could well do without.
As I was happily daydreaming about a new life in a new city, my cell phone rang.
“Hi, Carolina! Carl Winters, here. How are you?”
“Well, thank you, Carl. And you?”
“Good, good. Look, I heard that the folk at the Base are having a family fun day on the beach tomorrow. Are you going?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Great! I was wondering if you could take some photographs for the paper. We’d need them dropped off on Sunday evening.”
“Oh, I’d love to do that but I think I mentioned to you—I don’t have a digital camera. I wouldn’t be able to get the film developed that quickly.”
“No problem. We have a lab on site—just drop off the film and I’ll have one of my technicians develop it.”
I was silent.
“Carolina! Are you still there?”
“Oh, yes. I’m here.”
“Is there a problem?”
“It’s just…what if they’re not good enough? I’d hate for you to be relying on me and…”
He laughed.
“Carolina, it’s a family fun day. I’m sure the snaps will be just fine. We’ll get something usable—we can do a lot with cropping images. Don’t worry about it.”
“Well, okay. Thank you! I’m really flattered.”
“Good. That’s settled. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He ended the call leaving me puzzled. He was the editor of a weekly paper and he was going to be there on a Sunday evening? Go figure.
Shopping bags filled the trunk of my car, including a jar of chocolate sauce, and I drove home with an unaccustomed smile on my face. It took a while to unload all the extra food I’d bought for the picnic.
But when I went into the bedroom, it looked like a bomb had hit it. With a sigh, I scooped up the sheets lying in a tangled heap on the floor, and wearily stripped the bed. Then I trudged downstairs and loaded them into the machine. I didn’t know that having an affair meant more housework.
And then I remembered David’s damn dress uniform. Muttering bad-temperedly, I shoved it into a plastic bag and drove to the drycleaners.
I nearly fell asleep at the wheel driving back and when I stumbled into the living room, I couldn’t help thinking that the couch looked inviting. Perhaps just five minutes…
My cell phone alerted me that I had a message, waking me from a very interesting dream that involved a shower of chocolate instead of water…and a naked Sebastian.
* Feels like a long day. Missing you. Can’t wait for later. Did you get chocolate? Sxx *
I smiled and sent a text back.
* Yes to choc. But how slow can you go? *
He replied immediately.
* Let’s find out xx *
I had a huge grin on my face when I flipped my phone shut. But then I glanced at the time and was horrified to see I’d been asleep for more than three hours. I had a mountain of food to prepare for the picnic tomorrow and I sure as hell wasn’t going to be wasting my time doing it while Sebastian was here.
Despite the rude, very rude awakening, I felt better for my extended nap and set to work with a will. I had so much food, I had to drag out some cardboard boxes that I had stashed in the garage and stack it inside. I couldn’t help thinking about the morning Sebastian had come over to help me empty our moving-in crates. It seemed a lifetime ago—I wondered how it seemed to him.
I hunted through the kitchen cupboards for some candles. I’d bought them in case of a power outage—they’d certainly never been used for a romantic interlude with David. I wanted what I’d never had: I wanted tonight to be perfect.
The table looked so pretty, laid with proper linen napkins and decorated with candles and a small posy of flowers that I’d picked in the yard. I headed up to change into the little black dress that Sebastian had helped me choose, and matched it with elegant, suede pumps—I wanted to look beautiful for him.
After I unlocked the kitchen door, I curled up on the couch with a book. I must have fallen asleep again because it was dark when I next looked up. I was shocked to see that it was nearly one o’clock in the morning. Where was he?
The first thing I did was to check my phone, but there were no messages and no missed calls. Uncertainty vied with panic—had something happened to him or had he just had enough of me? I wondered if I should risk calling him. In the end I decided to send a text—just in case. And it was also our more usual form of communication.
* r u ok? I’m worried. *
I sat on the edge of the couch, anxiously waiting for a reply. When I couldn’t take the tension anymore, I stood up and started pacing.
Another half an hour passed and I still hadn’t heard from him. I was pondering the wisdom of getting in my car and going to look for him when I finally, finally heard a soft knock on the door.
I flew into the kitchen, yanked the door open and, to my dismay, I burst into tears when I saw him standing there smiling at me.
“Hey! What’s wrong? I’m sorry I’m late. Don’t cry, Caro. Please don’t cry, baby!”
He held me in his arms, stroking my hair, letting me cry myself out; all the fear and unreasoning anxiety, the stress of having to split myself in half, the intensity of the last three weeks, the hope for more that was so tender and fragile—it all poured out of me.
“Sorry,” I choked out. “I was just so worried. You didn’t answer your phone and I didn’t know how to contact you.”
“We got a flat on the way home,” he said, soothingly. “It took forever for me and Ches to put the new tire on in the dark.”
“I texted you!”
“I couldn’t charge up my phone yesterday—it died on me a few hours ago. I didn’t think it would matter. You were really worried about me?”
I nodded miserably: I felt such a fool getting myself into that state because of a dead phone battery and a flat tire. I wanted to yell, keep your phone charged, you jerk! But I didn’t—I was just glad he was here with me and safe.
He wiped my tears away with his fingers.
“I like that you were worried about me,” he said, softly.
He glanced over my shoulder at the kitchen table.
“Is this for me, too?”
I nodded again and tried to smile. “Surprise!” I muttered.
He laughed quietly. “I love it. Thank you. And…you look beautiful, Caro.”
“Red-eyed and hideous is more like it, but thank you for saying so.”
“You always look beautiful to me.”
“Yes, well that must be because you’re wearing those rose-tinted glasses again.”
He sighed and shook his head. I couldn’t tell if he was irritated or amused—maybe a bit of both.
“Are you hungry?”
“God, yes! Right now my stomach is thinking that someone cut my throat.”
“They really ought to feed you at work,” I grumbled.
He shrugged. “We were busy. But I’ve got tomorrow off.”
He looked at me expectantly but when he saw my dismayed reaction, his face fell.
“I thought…I just hoped we could spend the day together, but…it’s cool…if you’re busy.”
I swore. He looked surprised; I wasn’t much given to cursing.
“Oh, I wish I’d known! I’ve told Donna I’d go to the family fun day at the beach—you know, the big picnic?”
He scowled. “Can’t you tell her you’ve changed your mind?”
“I wish! But I’ve agreed to take photographs for City Beat, too. They’re counting on me. Oh, Sebastian, I’m so sorry! If I’d known you had the day off…”
“It was a last minute thing,” he muttered. “They gave Ches the day off, as well. Probably because so many people will be at the fun day.”
The possibilities presented by being able to spend a whole day alone with Sebastian now drifted through my mind, as substantial and certain as mist.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and laid my head on his chest again.
“There’ll be other days,” I said, my voice sad.
“Yeah, I know. It’s just that every day…every moment with you…”
“…is precious,” I finished the sentence for him.
“Very.”
I kissed him softly. “I’ll go make dinner.”
“I’ll light the candles.”
I was surprised when he pulled a lighter out of his pocket; I’d never seen Sebastian smoke and I’d certainly never smelt tobacco on him. Odd.
I switched off the overhead electric lights so the only illumination in the kitchen was from the candles. The flickering lights threw weird images onto the walls, like some freakish shadow play. A shiver ran through me—someone must have walked over my grave. I shook off the superstitious notion and concentrated instead on the way the candlelight played across Sebastian’s face, highlighting his cheekbones and making his eyes glitter. He smiled up at me and in the dim light, his irises looked coal black. I could lose my train of thought just by looking at him.
I served up the grilled lamb chops and Sebastian ate heartily; I merely picked at my food. I felt resentful of tomorrow’s wasted opportunity and, stupidly, I was letting it spoil this evening, too. I made an effort to pull myself together.
“How was work today?”
“Busy. There was some big golf tournament: a lot of out-of-towners.”
“Any poolside incidents?”
He laughed as he remembered something.
“Yeah! One of the guests dropped her cell phone in the deep end. I dove down to get it for her.”
“Was she grateful?”
“I think she was more pissed, but she gave me ten bucks…and her cell phone number.”
“You’re kidding me!” How dare she? Was she pretty? How old was she?
Those were the questions that I couldn’t ask.
“I mean, how dumb can you get?” continued Sebastian. “She just dumped her damn phone in the pool and that’s the number she gives me!”
“Sebastian,” I said, pointing out the blindingly obvious, at least to me, “the number will still work—she’ll just have to buy a new handset.”
He looked at me.
“Really?”
“Yes!”
He shook his head. “Well, it doesn’t make any difference—I threw her number away.”
“You did?”
“Of course I did!”
He looked annoyed. “I wouldn’t cheat on you, Caro!”
I couldn’t bear to point out the irony in that statement. Instead, I changed the subject.
“Do you want some dessert?”
His expression changed in an instant—from righteous indignation to the most scorching look of lust.
“Chocolate?” His voice was low and seductive.
“I…I made a polenta cake…but I bought chocolate, too.”
He didn’t take his eyes off me and his voice didn’t waver.
“Just the chocolate.”
He stood up, his chair scraping across the kitchen floor, and he held out his hand to me. I took it wordlessly and Sebastian pulled me into his arms, then kissed me until I stopped breathing.
“I want to make love to you,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. Fuck! I couldn’t think of anything else.” He blinked and his eyes danced with amusement. “People could have been drowning in that pool and I don’t think I’d have noticed.”
“Let’s go to bed.”
“Oh, yeah, baby!”
Suddenly he scooped me up off the floor and flung me over his shoulder; the surprise made me cry out. He practically ran up the stairs and threw me on the bed. I couldn’t help laughing at his eagerness, at the sheer joy I saw on his face.
“Damn! We forgot the chocolate.”
“No, we didn’t.” I pointed to the bottle of chocolate sauce by the alarm clock and watched his eyes light up.
He twisted the lid and the jar made a soft popping sound as it opened. He stuck his index finger in and pulled it out covered in chocolate. He held it out toward me.
“Suck,” he said.
So I did.
At some point in the night we must have fallen asleep. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, more a sort of acknowledgment of sheer exhaustion.
Waking up was a struggle. My eyes were gritty with tiredness, and my body ached so much, I didn’t know which muscle to favor first. And there was chocolate everywhere!
Oh, the chocolate! Mmm, that had been good. No, that had been great. That had been fun.
We’d laughed so much. I couldn’t remember laughing so much, not ever.
And the way we’d explored each other’s body. I remembered again the touch of his fingers; the way his skin warmed against mine; the soft, wet heat of his lips, everywhere. The passion that had smoldered for hours, blazing suddenly into flames that burned.
I rolled over to find his eyes open, a smile of wonder on his face.
We didn’t speak; we just gazed at each other. I think I was smiling, too.
His fingers stroked my arm slowly, rhythmically.
I reached up to rest my hand on his cheek, but he pulled it to his lips and kissed the palm. I nestled into his body and his hand moved down to stroke my bare back.
I listened to the quiet, steady beat of his heart.
“We have to get up,” I said, sadly.
He nodded slowly but neither of us moved.
“When will I see you again?” he murmured.
“Today, at the picnic,” I said, trying to sound upbeat.
“You know what I mean.”
I sighed. I did know what he meant; I just didn’t have an answer. There was no tomorrow for us.
“We’ll figure something out,” I said, trying to sound reassuring.
“I hate this,” he said sulkily. “All the sneaking around, all the lies. I want everyone to know we’re together.”
“Fine!” I snapped. “Go ahead! Tell everyone! And then I can spend the next God knows how long in prison, or stuck on the sex offender registry and not able to get a job.”
I knew I was behaving badly, childishly, but I couldn’t seem to stop.
He gasped in shock. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he mumbled.
“Then what did you mean?” I said, my voice beginning to rise in volume. “Do you think I find this easy? Do you think I enjoy betraying people, lying to decent people like Donna and Shirley? Deceiving everyone? Do you think this isn’t hard for me? This isn’t a game, Sebastian!”
“I know that!” he yelled back. “It’s my life, too!”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m just…a little tired. You’ve worn me out.”
That brought a slight smile to his lips but his eyes were still hurt and angry.
I knew I shouldn’t take my constant anxiety out on him.
“I’m sorry: it’s frustrating for me, too.”
“I don’t want to fight with you, Caro. I just want to be with you all the time. You’re all I think about.”
We lay there for a few more minutes, wishing the hands of the clock to slow in sympathy.
“Donna will be here in an hour,” I said quietly. “We have to get up.”
Our shower was over too quickly and my hands reluctantly let him go. We dressed in silence, the ache of separation already billowing between us.
I glanced at the bed where he had made such sweet love to me, the chocolatey sheets a reminder of a carefree night.
“Do they have other flavors?” asked Sebastian, following my gaze.
“I don’t know: probably. Maybe we should investigate?”
“I like peanut butter,” he said, wistfully.
I raised my eyebrows. “Crunchy or smooth?”
He laughed, a little sadly, and pulled me into a hug.
“I’d better get going.”
“You don’t want breakfast?” I was surprised.
“You can’t risk driving me to the park today—half the neighbors will be outside in their yards. I’ll go through the back.”
At least one of us was thinking clearly.
“I’ll see you later?” he said, tentatively.
“Yes,” I said simply.
He smiled.
We walked down the stairs in silence.
In the kitchen I pulled him toward me and we kissed hungrily. I held him as long as I could, but too soon, it was time for him to go. He kissed me lightly on the forehead and then ducked out through the kitchen door.
I’d forgotten to remind him to charge his phone.
Feeling miserable, I threw the chocolatey sheets in the washing machine and made up the bed with clean ones. I removed every piece of evidence, every trace that there’d been anyone in the house but me—the doormat wife of a bullying man.
I was disgusted with myself: and the list of reasons was endless.