Then Caro reached for my belt and a wave of panic shot through me. I caught her hands and shook my head.
“I don’t think I’m ready for this, Caro. What if…?”
Her hands rested on my hips as she looked into my eyes.
“Do you want me to show you how I reminded myself of you when you were in the hospital?” she asked. “Do you remember what I showed you that night in Kabul?”
And I remembered. I remembered the night in that ugly hotel in Kabul. Me touching myself, telling her to think of me; Caro touching herself, then coming again and again as I drove into her. We’d each given the other something to remember by; something special, something important.
I nodded, my breathing suddenly shallow. I wanted to see her touch herself here and now.
“I will,” she said in a challenging tone, “if you take off your pants.”
“Caro…”
“That’s the deal, Sebastian,” she said firmly. “Non-negotiable.”
I hesitated for a moment, then unbuckled my belt and dropped my jeans to the floor. I deliberately angled my right leg away from her, so she couldn’t see the ugly scar that ran the length of my thigh. It sickened me; I didn’t want it to have the same effect on her. But her eyes were fixed on my crotch and I was surprised to realize that I’d gotten a chubby without knowing it. I guess you could say things were looking up, but I still felt like I could deflate at any second. And if a woman tells you that doesn’t matter, she’s talking bullshit.
“Sit in the chair,” she ordered. “Make yourself comfortable—I could be some time.”
That made me smile.
“First, I’d make sure the curtains were closed,” she said, pointing toward the windows like a flight attendant. “Then, I’d pull back the duvet and arrange the pillows.”
As she spoke, she flicked back the sheets and piled up the pillows near the headboard.
“Then I’d put on a little mood music…”
She pointed the remote at her CD player and the sounds of Martha’s Harbour swirled softly from the speakers.
You are an ocean wave, my love
Crashing at my bow…
“I’d kick off my sneakers,” she continued as she raised one eyebrow, “because I’m really not a Manolo sort of girl … that’s high heels to you, Hunter.”
I rolled my eyes as I smiled back at her. “I lived in Paris for six months, Caro. I have heard of Manolo Blahnik.”
“Yes, well, he’s from Spain, so there’s no need to look so superior, Sebastian.”
Her teasing was definitely helping me to relax. Caro always knew what I needed.
“Besides,” she went on, “I can’t walk in high heels unless I’ve got you to hang onto … but I’m not averse to wearing them in the bedroom.”
My mind was skittering all over the place. At the mention of her hanging onto me, I felt cold, knowing that I was the one who had to hold onto her or risk face-planting. But the thought of her wearing nothing but a pair of really high heels … hell, yeah!
My breath caught in my throat and my hands gripped the edge of the chair. Caro’s eyes flicked to me quickly before she carried on.
“So, after I’ve kicked off my sneakers, I’d peel off my socks, because leaving them on just isn’t sexy, and if you ever do that, Hunter, I’ll be justified in filing for divorce—after we’re married, of course, which you keep putting off.”
I frowned, not wanting to get into that right now. It was too much. Too much.
“I’d imagine your fingers teasing me around my waistband,” she said, her hands copying her words. “And then I’d think about you unzipping my jeans and standing back while I shimmy out of them.”
My eyes followed her pants as she slid them down her long legs to the floor.
“And I’d pull off my t-shirt because I’d be feeling hot just thinking about you touching me.”
Her t-shirt followed the jeans, and she was standing in just a bra and panties, looking like Heaven and sin, all in one sexy gift-wrapped package.
“And then I’d touch my breasts like this, Sebastian,” she whispered, squeezing her tits together and throwing her head back, “like you asked me to once before, and I’d imagine you running your hands over me and unhooking my bra, and you’d torment my nipples with your hands and your hot, sweet mouth, your tongue moving around and around me like this.”
Damn, that was hot!
Then she unhooked her bra, dropped it to the floor as she teased and pinched her nipples, and turned around, waving her fantastic ass in my direction.
“And I’d have to climb onto the bed, just like this, Sebastian,” she said, posing provocatively as she slinked up toward the pillows.
Then she turned around to face me and knelt up. “And I’d think about how you’d toy with the lace on my panties, just like this, and how your fingers would tease me, sliding inside me, finding me all hot and wet and wanting.”
I watched as her fingers dipped into her panties, and I could hear the slick, wet sounds as she moved her fingers inside herself, moaning softly.
“And I’d think what it was like to feel your mouth on me and your tongue inside me, tantalizing and torturing me, bringing on an orgasm with a flick of your tongue.”
“Fuck!” I hissed, gripping the edge of my chair even harder.
“And I’d lay back on the bed and imagine your long, hard cock, sliding inside me, thrusting fast—really fast—and bringing on another orgasm, just like this.”
She lay back on the bed and shimmied out of her panties, then propped herself up on the pillows, pulled her knees up slightly and opened her legs.
She gazed up at me from beneath her eyelashes as she continued to touch herself. She was so sexy and so amazing, I wanted to … I didn’t know what I wanted.
“And I’d wish you were with me, Sebastian,” she continued, her voice husky, “because although I’ve got a damn good imagination, I’d rather have the real thing any day.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, then looked up to meet mine.
“I’m so wet for you, Sebastian. Do you want to touch me?”
Yes! No! I don’t know!
I swallowed and tried to answer her, but then she closed her eyes and rubbed herself harder, her back arching, high-pitched whimpers breaking from her throat.
Without thinking, I stood up, just needing to be closer to her. And I could do this—my hands still knew what to do, even if the rest of my body was fucked.
I stretched out on the bed next to her, ignoring the spasms of pain that ran through my shoulder and thigh, then nudged her hand out of the way as I circled my fingers around her clit, sliding two inside her. So fucking warm and wet and tight around me.
She groaned loudly, and without conscious thought, I leaned across and fastened my lips over her breast, teasing the nipple until it pebbled in my mouth, sucking hard. She ran her hands over my shoulders and a tremor rippled through me. I concentrated on her other breast, swirling my tongue around and pulling lightly with my teeth.
Her moans were breathy now, so I trailed kisses down her body, down her stomach, over her mound, and then inside her. So soft, so sweet. My tongue began sliding in and out, creating a fast rhythm, and she locked her hands into my hair, holding me to her as her body began to tremble.
“Sebastian!” she called, as I pushed her legs further apart, really working her, before she came loudly.
I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, then moved up to kiss her thigh.
“Much, much better than my imagination, Sebastian!” she gasped.
Relief flowed through me and I chuckled quietly.
But then I almost leapt off of the mattress when her hands brushed over my briefs.
“Oh, you’re so hard, tesoro … I want you inside me.”
Shit, I was hard? I hadn’t even realized.
“Where are the fucking condoms, Caro,” I snapped, afraid I was going to lose it, one way or another.