I laughed, making a mental note to find out more about these fantasies at some point in the near future. But for now, I let her off the hook.
“I’ve never worn a tux,” I said off-handedly.
“Never?” She sounded surprised. “Not even at your high school prom?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t go. I hadn’t met you again, and I’d split up with Brenda. Ches didn’t have a date either—he swiped some of Mitch’s beer, I scored some weed—and we got trashed on the beach instead. It was a pretty good night—I think. I don’t remember that much about it. We didn’t need any women to have a good time … but that was before I met you again.”
“Hmm, very virtuous of you,” she smiled. “But didn’t you wear a tux for Ches and Amy’s wedding?”
“Nah, Amy kind of got off on the whole military thing, even though she didn’t want Ches enlisting, so she asked me and Mitch to come in our Dress Blues. I don’t know, I think she thought it would look cool in the wedding pictures.”
I rolled my eyes, remembering the psycho that was pre-wedding Amy.
“She turned into a complete nightmare-bitch-from-hell over the whole wedding thing. Ches was freaking out, thinking he was about to marry some crazy person. She even tried to ban him from having a bachelor party.” And she failed, because Ches’s bachelor party was epic—a whole weekend of drinking, dancing and dicking around in Tijuana.
“Gee, I wonder why,” Caro said, oozing sarcasm. “Maybe she didn’t trust you.”
I grinned at her.
“Yeah, well, she was probably right about that…”
“I don’t want to know, Sebastian!” Caro said quickly.
Instead, I kissed her, changing the subject back.
“So what do you think?”
“About what?”
“Going somewhere upscale, really dressing up? I’d love to see you like that again.”
“Well, okay,” she said thoughtfully. “Let’s do that when you get back from this tour. Then we can really celebrate.”
“Let’s do it now,” I said.
If there’s one thing that being a Marine teaches you, it’s to take an opportunity when it arises—we don’t stand around with our thumbs up our asses waiting for someone else to tell us what to do.
“There must be some place in Salerno you can get women’s stuff,” I encouraged her.
“Stuff?!”
“Yeah, silky dress, stockings, high heels … stuff. And then I could undress you—slowly.”
I really liked the idea of that. There’s nothing like the feel of a woman’s silk panties as she straddles your body, hot and ready to make the beast with two backs.
“Okay,” she smiled. “I’ll do it if you do—dress up.”
I wasn’t really interested in fancy clothes for myself, but if it was what Caro wanted, why the hell not?
“Sure, if I can find somewhere that will rent me a tux, why not? It’ll make a change from being in uniform.”
Then I kissed her quickly, scooping her off of my lap and setting her back on the floor.
“We’d better get going. Got me a date planned with a really hot woman.”
Instead of traveling along the coast road, we headed inland for the Autostrada del Sole, the highway that runs from Milan to Naples. I could tell the heavy traffic made Caro nervous, but it was the fastest route to Salerno.
We stopped briefly just outside Rome to give Caro a chance to work some of the stiffness out of her body, and then we pushed on south, past Naples until we ran out of road.
Salerno was just how she’d described it to me all those years ago, terracotta roofs, whitewashed square buildings built into the cliff, the Mediterranean Sea deep blue in the evening sun.
I pulled off my helmet, stretching out my back muscles, before climbing off and holding my hand out to Caro.
“You alright, baby?”
“I’m fine,” she said, hiding a wince as she massaged her ass, a job I’d happily have done for her. “How are you?”
“Yeah, good. Look, I think it might be easier to find a pensione or hotel in Salerno than in your dad’s village. We’re only a couple of miles away so we could easily shoot on over there in the morning. What do you think?”
She nodded readily, stretching her arms above her head, and unconsciously pushing her tits out in a way that would be rude to ignore.
“Anything that doesn’t involve getting back on your bike sounds good, Sebastian,” she said with a grimace. “My ass is numb already.”
I pulled her into a hug, willingly laying hands on that peachy ass, and rubbing gently.
“Better, baby?”
“Mmm, much,” she sighed, resting her head on my chest.
I kissed her lightly, loving the soft smile that made her eyes glow. I swallowed, fighting to control the feelings that threatened to overwhelm me. Goddamn it! I was a US Marine, not some lovesick teenager. Pity my body couldn’t tell the difference.
“Come on then,” I said quickly, “let’s walk for a while. We’ll find a room—and a pharmacy.”
“Good to see you’ve got your priorities in order, Sebastian,” she laughed.
“Trained by the Marines, baby. What can I say?”
We walked lazily through the warm streets, as crazy drivers in cars and scooters raced past us. A few of the men were giving Caro sleazy stares, so I slung my arm around her and glared at the ones who were the most obvious. I felt her hand slide around my waist as she smiled up at me.
When I saw a small sidewalk café I realized how thirsty I was.
“I could really use a beer,” I suggested.
But Caro shook her head.
“This is the home of limoncello, Sebastian, the real thing—made with Sorrento lemons. I think we should try some.”
“Yeah! You used to make those amazing ones when I was a kid.”
She shrugged, wincing slightly as we both remembered that I’d first met her when I was eight years old and she was a newly married woman. Other than my fucking parents, Ches and his family were the only people who knew that. No one else would ever understand what we’d been to each other then. She’d been the only person in the world who cared for me then, and even as a little kid, I knew that I wanted to save her. It was fairytale stuff, and it wasn’t until we met again when I was 17 that I recognized what a douche her husband was. Those memories were private.
“Sure, but these are alcoholic,” she said, glancing up at me with a smile. “We could order them with a pitcher of water, too.”
“Sounds good,” I said, knowing that it was her way of challenging me not to get wasted. Whatever, but it wasn’t like the military made many teetotalers.
The waiter was a kid who needed a fucking lesson in manners. He cheered up when Caro spoke to him in Italian, but I stared him down when I caught his eyes on her tits.
“And would you know of anywhere we could rent a room for a couple of nights?” Caro asked him. “Nothing too expensive?”
“My Uncle Aberto might,” said the kid, smiling at her, caught in her spell like so many other guys. “I’ll go and ask him.”
“You didn’t have to flirt with him, Caro,” I said, at the same time kicking myself for sounding like the jealous asshole she’d been married to.
She stared at me, completely confused.
“Excuse me? Flirt with him? I was being friendly, that’s all.”
“Well, it didn’t look like that from here,” I snapped, trying to rein in my temper—and failing.
She shook her head and held up a finger. “Rule number three, Sebastian, of my conditions for coming on this road trip with you: no displays of adolescent jealousy. Remember?”
I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms. I definitely needed a moment.
The kid waiter returned with the limoncellos, water, and an older guy with black hair and dark olive skin.
“My nephew tells me you’re looking for a room. For how long?”
“Just a couple of nights,” Caro replied, smiling at him.
Yep, that jealousy wasn’t going away anytime soon.
“Somewhere in town,” she continued, “nothing too upscale—although somewhere with a bath would be great. We’ve been on our motorcycle all day.”