“I want to kiss you, Caro. Very badly.”
Her eyes glowed, and I held my breath as she slowly raised her hand to my cheek. I leaned into her warmth, my eyes closing as her fingers brushed down my neck, heat and desire rising everywhere she touched me.
I took a step closer, resting my hands on her small waist. Then she pulled my head toward her and I felt her lips on mine at last. So soft, so sensuous. I could feel her breath stroke my face, her lips parted and my tongue swept into her mouth.
And then the emotions, the memories that burned through me—every pain, every regret scorched in the heat of her touch. I remembered: her body arching as mine moved above her, inside her, the intensity of every moment seared through me.
I pressed my hips into her, my erection painfully obvious as her mouth devoured every breath.
“God, I want you, Caro. I want to make love to you,” I whispered against her lips.
“Yes,” she said. “I want that, too.”
I could have taken her there and then. My body was crying out for her.
Instead I had to go park my bike in the hotel’s secure underground garage and hope to hell that Caro didn’t change her mind by the time I came back. I thought she might. She could come to her senses at any moment and think of all the reasons why this was a bad idea, why I wasn’t good enough for a successful career woman who could have her pick of guys. It was hard to believe she was forty. She was still smokin’ hot.
The truth was I’d never be good enough for her, but that didn’t stop me wanting her. And if she had low standards, who the hell was I to complain?
She was waiting for me in the lobby, sitting on the same sofa where I’d sat last night during our excruciating heart-to-heart. She looked anxious, a frown creasing her forehead. I was sure she could read me, tension and expectation in every molecule of my body. Ten years. Ten long years I’d waited for this moment. And I was a man now, not a boy, and I knew I could make this good for her. If she let me.
I wondered if we’d still have that amazing chemistry. It felt like we would, if the way my body was reacting to hers was anything to go by.
I crossed the lobby to stand in front of her, my eyes searching her face, for any part of her that didn’t want this. I held out my hand and she took it without hesitation. If it was a mistake, then it was one we both made willingly.
A relieved smile flickered across my face as I pulled Caro to her feet, braiding my fingers through hers as we headed toward the bank of gleaming elevators.
All were busy, crammed with tourists returning from day trips, politicians and businessmen heading to their rooms. The bastards were eyeing Caro with approval, so I pulled her to the side and shot them some serious fuck-off glares, before wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her back into my chest, and allowing myself to rain soft kisses onto her hair.
The doors opened again with a soft hiss and several other people got off at the same floor, following us along the corridor, chatting noisily. Caro and I were silent.
She pulled the keycard out of her wallet, and I could see the tremor in her hands as she pushed the door open and walked inside.
I stood watching her as she moved around the room, turning on the side lights, pulling the curtains, shifting her laptop from the duvet. She still hadn’t looked at me, so I walked in slowly and sat on the edge of the bed. I caught her hand as she hurried past on another pointless circuit.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m nervous, too.”
She stared at me in amazement.
“You’re nervous … why?”
“Because it’s you,” I said simply.
And it wasn’t a line. Just because I’d fucked my way around every city I’d ever lived in, it didn’t mean shit. This, here and now, this was what mattered. With her. I’d been numb for so long and now I wanted to feel again—it scared the fuck out of me.
I raised her hand to my lips and kissed it gently, hoping to reassure her. I didn’t want my so-called reputation getting in the way.
“Only if you want to, Caro.”
And I meant it: she had to want me, too.
“I do,” she stuttered. “I just feel, I don’t know, embarrassed. It’s so stupid.”
I couldn’t find the words to reassure her, so I decided to show her what she meant to me. I lay back on the bed and gently pulled her down next to me, then began kissing her throat, my hands moving up from her waist. The soft warmth of her body heated mine, and I couldn’t help pressing myself over her, wanting to feel her everywhere.
But then she froze underneath me and spoke the words I’d been dreading since the moment I told her that I wanted her.
“No, Sebastian,” she gasped, pushing me away.
I stopped immediately, my heart shuddering as my stupid body fought to continue what we’d started. I took a deep breath and rolled away from her, forcing a smile to my face. I wasn’t sure if she meant not now, or not ever, or no fucking way. But she wasn’t making me leave, so I kept the smile glued to my face, even though she looked like she was about to bolt.
And then I had an idea that might help her to relax.
“Let’s just make out,” I suggested.
She seemed stunned, as if she’d expected me to get up and leave.
“Make out? As in…”
“Lie on the bed, watch trashy TV in French or German—your choice—and make out,” I clarified.
I raised my eyebrows challengingly, then sat up and shrugged out of my jacket, dropping it on the floor, before unbuckling by boots and tossing them into the corner with my socks.
Caro used to tell me that she thought my feet were sexy. I remember thinking, What the fuck? but I’d use everything I had—whatever that was.
I grabbed a couple of pillows, piled them against the headboard and launched myself backward.
“Where’s the remote?”
She pointed silently to the cabinet on her side of the bed and I leaned across her to retrieve it. She didn’t flinch as I rubbed up against her, so I took that as another good sign.
She watched as I surfed through a few channels before I found some badly-dubbed TV show, then grinned up at her, patting the space on the bed beside me.
She blinked and seemed undecided. I held my breath while she unlaced her boots and dropped them next to mine. But then she crawled up on the bed next to me, and I pulled her into my arms so she was resting against my chest. God, the memories this brought back. The many times we’d made love—but never enough. I kissed her forehead, and settled back on the pillows with a sigh when she snuggled into me.
“This feels good,” I said, a deep contentment flowing through my body. “Should we order room service?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Would you mind if I ordered myself a beer?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t mind.”
I pulled the hotel telephone toward me to order a beer and a sandwich, then relaxed with my arm around her, enjoying the scent of her hair, her body soft against mine. I wanted more, but I could wait.
The Swiss were efficient, I’ll give them that. The beer arrived within five minutes, and the ‘sandwich’—an enormous French baguette—was stuffed with cold cuts, lettuce and tomato.
Result! I grabbed the bread and started inhaling it as quickly as I could. A broad grin spread across Caro’s face.
“Food instead of sex?” she asked, a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth.
I nearly choked, but managed to swallow in time. Hmm, swallowing. Yeah, food versus sex—it was a running joke we’d once shared. I was stupidly happy that she’d remembered.
“For now,” I teased her. “I’m still kind of hoping the sex comes later.”
“How’s that going for you?”
“Not sure: she’s playing hard to get. I was going to ply her with alcohol and have my wicked way with her, but I guess she’s wise to my game.”
“Women!” she laughed, rolling her eyes.
I finished the sandwich and brushed crumbs from my t-shirt, then lay back with the bottle of beer and wrapped my free arm around her again.