He leapt out of the tub and tried to grab me again.
“Oh no! You’re all wet, mister, and I only just got dry!”
I threw a towel at him which he caught before it hit his chest.
He made a few quick passes then tossed it on the floor where it started to soak up the spilled water.
The look on his face had me backing up into the bedroom.
“Sebastian! It’s nearly 2 am. We have to be up in less than six hours.”
“Plenty of time,” he said, his voice a growl.
Unbelievable!
When I finally woke up Sebastian’s heavy arm was pinning me to the bed and daylight was pouring into the room. I screwed up my eyes to see the time by my wristwatch. It was already 10 am: check-out time.
“Damn it!”
I pushed his arm off and sat up in alarm.
“Caro! What’s wrong?”
He was awake immediately.
I threw myself back on the bed helplessly, angry with myself and frustrated at the lateness of the hour. No, I was angry with him. If he hadn’t kept me up half the night—if he hadn’t been up half the night—I wouldn’t have slept in: not today.
“Caro!”
“I wanted to get home early,” I grumbled.
He pulled me over to face him.
“Why? What’s the big rush?”
“I just wanted to catch … David … before he went to work. Assuming he went home last night. Now I’ll have to put off telling him again … unless I go to the hospital. I guess I could do that.”
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?”
“I’m on four till ten again.”
“Okay, well, I could pick you up after? We can go to my new place—you can meet my roommates.”
“Sure, that would be great. You really don’t mind?”
“Course not! Go have some fun.”
And I had some business to take care of, too.
Sebastian picked up his cell.
“Battery’s almost dead but I should have enough juice for one call.” He scrolled down to find Ches’s number and dialed. “Hey, man, what’s up? No, I’m with Caro. We’ve just driven past Silver Strand and it’s pumping. You wanna go take the boards out? No, she’s cool.” He grinned over at me. “We’ll hook up later. Yeah, okay.” Then he frowned. “What? No, we didn’t yet. Yeah, okay, okay. See you in twenty.
He ended the call. “Ches says City Beat printed your article. I dunno, he sounded a bit weird.”
I’d forgotten about the article. It was rather irresponsible of me—after all, it was supposed to be my future source of income.
“I’ll pick us up a copy on the way back. Where are you meeting Ches?”
I dropped him off on Seacoast Drive. Ches was leaning against his van waiting for us. I smiled and waved but stayed in the car. Things were still a little tense between me and Sebastian’s best friend—I didn’t want to push anything.
“I’ll see you later, baby,” said Sebastian kissing me hard.
I kissed him back and felt the now familiar electricity surge through me. I pushed Sebastian away and tried to calm my pulse rate.
“Fuck!” he breathed, closing his eyes. “I just can’t get enough of you, Caro.”
I smiled and shook my head to clear it.
“Go, before Ches drives off in disgust. I’ll text you later.”
He kissed me quickly and leapt out of the car, a huge grin on his face.
“And charge up your cell phone!” I called after him.
He sketched a wave and jogged over to Ches.
I stopped by a convenience store and picked up half a dozen copies of City Beat. As soon as I turned to my article I could see why Ches had acted a little weird. As well as six pictures of different events from the Base’s fun day, there was a half-page photograph of me—with Bill’s grinning face, his arms wrapped around my waist, and kissing my cheek. Shit!
That must have been one of the pictu
res Ches took when he was messing around with my camera. No wonder he was acting weird: he damn well should! Worse still, the way the photo was captioned made it look like Bill was my husband: ‘The author, wife of Lieutenant Commander David Wilson’. Double shit!
Carl had known damn well that David hadn’t been at the fun day. Was it a mistake, or was this his way at getting back at me for refusing to go for a drink with him?
Jeez, I was getting paranoid. I was sure it was just an honest mistake; probably the sub-editor wrote the caption—nothing to do with Carl at all.
But an ominous feeling chilled me. I was about to leave David and, looking at this photograph, people would assume I was having an affair with Bill. But … just maybe I could work this to my advantage—it would certainly deflect attention from Sebastian. Probably too well.
I drove home chewing on the inside of my mouth, deep in thought. I’d do one more check of the house to make sure there was nothing else I wanted and then I’d go find David at the hospital. That was the plan. It seemed callous to just leave a note although a large part of me would have preferred it. Come to think of it, maybe David would prefer that, too.
But when I got home, I was out of choices—David’s car was parked in the driveway.
I sat in my car and took several deep breaths to calm myself. It didn’t help in the slightest—my heart was still slamming against my ribs.
Pull yourself together, Venzi. You can do this.
My legs were shaking as I got out of the car. I dropped my key twice before I managed to open the front door.
David was sitting at the kitchen table as I walked in, his face tight with anger … and a copy of City Beat laid out in front of him.
I felt like running.
“Hello, David.”
My voice was so soft I could barely hear it myself.
“Would you care to explain this … this nonsense, Caroline?”
His tone was clipped, his anger under control—for now.
I sat down at the table opposite him and tried to stay calm.
“I assume you’re referring to the article, David, there’s nothing in there that needs explaining.”
His face was a dangerous shade of purple.
“And this … man who seems to be draped all over you! Are you trying to make a fool of me?”
I took a deep breath.
“David, he’s just a friend of the Peters. He was fooling around—the newspaper editor got the wrong idea, that’s all. Look, this isn’t important…”
“It most certainly is, I have a reputation at the hospital and…”
I interrupted him quietly but I was proud that my voice didn’t tremble.
“No, David, it’s not important. But we do need to talk. At least, I do have something to say to you.”
“I can’t think of anything more important than finding out why my wife is flaunting herself in this disgusting way … and where she slept last night!”
“I might well ask you the same question, David, but I dare say we would both answer ‘in a hotel’.”
“Don’t you fucking start that!”
I paled at the undisguised anger in his voice but I’d gone too far to turn back now.
“I want a divorce.”
He stared at me in shock, his face draining of color as the words sank in.
“What? Are you crazy?”
You mean, crazy not to want a controlling bully like you?
“No, David. I’m not—just unhappy. I’ve been unhappy for a long time and … I know I haven’t made you happy either. I think it’s best if we both just go our own way.”
“Because of this … this ape!” he snarled, jabbing his finger at the newspaper.
I sighed. The picture of me with Bill was an unnecessary distraction.
“No. I was telling the truth about him. He’s just someone who happened to be there that day. I’ve only ever met him twice in my entire life. David, this is about us. Well, there is no ‘us’; there hasn’t been for a long time—if there ever was. Look, I’m sorry this seems to have come out of the blue, but surely it can’t have escaped your attention that our marriage has been over for a while now…”
He glared at me and gripped the table until his knuckles were completely bloodless.
“Are you screwing this man?”
I looked him in the eye—I was so grateful he’d asked that question. I wouldn’t have to lie to him. Yet.
“No, David, I’m not.”
He took a deep breath and it seemed as if he believed me.
“This is about that silly accident the other night, isn’t it? For fuck’s sake, Caroline, it was just an accident!”
He sat back, his arms folded across his chest, a supercilious expression on his face. I could tell what he was thinking—the storm was blowing over. If anything, this was the eye of the storm.
“I know it was an accident. But the fact remains: I’m leaving you and I want a divorce.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! You can’t leave me!” He stared at me then added, “You haven’t got anywhere to go—your mother certainly won’t take you back.”
God, he was arrogant.
I was beginning to get angry: angry was good.
“I’ve already moved my things out: I guess you haven’t noticed yet. I’ve rented a room downtown until … until we get everything sorted legally. Then I’m going back East.”
He stared at me, utterly speechless.
“I won’t make it difficult,” I continued, “I don’t want anything from you.”
He looked liked I’d punched him; he was deflating in front of me, all bombast gone.
“You’re leaving me?”
“Yes, David. It’s for the best.”
His head sank to his chest and I felt an unfamiliar pang of pity for him.
And then there was a loud and insistent banging on the door. I tried to ignore the knocking, but it was relentless.
Who the hell was this? What absolutely appalling timing.
With the habit born of a decade of domestic drudgery, I was the one who walked to the front door and pulled it open.
“There you are, you little bitch!”
Estelle pushed past me into the main room and Donald followed close behind. I could smell alcohol on his breath as he leered at me. The door hung open as I fell back weakly against the wall.
There could be only one reason for them coming here; only one reason for Estelle to speak to me like that…
They knew.
“What’s going on?” shouted David, his temper fraying with this new incursion.
He stood up and glared at Donald and Estelle.
“Estelle, this isn’t the time or place. Donald, what’s going on?”
“Your little whore of a wife has been fucking my son!” spat Estelle. “My underage son!”
David recoiled and stared at her as if she’d grown two heads.
“Don’t be ridiculous! Have you been drinking again, Estelle, because from the look of you…”
“Ask her!” she taunted him. “See if she denies it!”
David’s disbelief turned to shock: one look at my face was evidence enough.
“Caroline, is this … is this true?”
My knees gave way and I sank onto the couch.
David stared at me, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.
“You’re such a limp dick fucking pencil pusher, Wilson,” snorted Donald. “If you’d been servicing your wife properly she wouldn’t have come sniffing around my son.”
David was helpless to reply, adrift in a scenario he didn’t understand.
“Caroline?”
David’s voice pleaded with me to deny what Donald was saying—but I couldn’t.
“Caroline?” he stuttered again.
“Come on, Wilson,” sneered Donald. “Be a man for once in your life—if you can remember how.”
“I just wanted to see you deny it,” Estelle hissed at me. “I knew I was right about you, pretending yo
u’re so prim and proper. People like you make me sick. Who are you to judge me when you go around getting your kicks with children? Sneaking around behind your husband’s back—or did he know?”
“It’s got nothing to do with David,” I said, tiredly. “He and I are getting a divorce.”
“Oh, so that’s the plan, is it?” sneered Estelle. “Trying to blame my son! My seventeen-year-old son! Do you think I’d let you implicate him in your divorce? Do you think for one moment we’d let even a hint of a scandal like that sully our reputation? Or maybe you think you can blackmail your way out of this? Over my dead body, you stuck up little slut. I suppose you’ll say that he attacked you now? Is that it? Blame someone else? Pretending you’re so much better than everyone when you’ve really been putting it out for all the boys; no doubt you’ve fucked half the Base by now. Well, no, missy! You’re not ruining our name.”
“Shut up, Stell,” said Donald coolly. “I’m running this show, not you.”
Estelle fell silent, her eyes narrowing at me, her expression vicious.
Where did so much hatred come from? I felt myself drowning in their ugly accusations. I didn’t have the strength to think about that: all I could do was try to protect myself. I had to go—now.
“I’m leaving anyway,” I said, quietly, leaning forward in a weak effort to get up off the couch even though I was afraid I was going to be sick. “I won’t bother you. You’ll never see me again.”
David’s head jerked up. I saw hurt and pain in his expression along with something else. Was it fear?
I needed to get away—I’d done enough damage already.
I could go straight to New York; Sebastian could catch up with me later. It was only three months—only three months.
I was vaguely aware of the sound of car doors slamming outside and angry voices.
“Oh, that’s much too easy!” snapped Estelle.
She marched over and slapped my face hard. My head rocked back and tears sprang to my eyes. She raised her hand again. I didn’t try to stop her.
“Mom! Leave her alone!”
Suddenly Sebastian was standing in the room, placing his body between me and his mother who still had her hand raised to hit me. I didn’t understand where he’d come from. I felt sick and confused and so dizzy I was afraid I might faint.
At first I thought Estelle was going to hit Sebastian instead, but she backed away when she saw the appalled faces of Ches, his parents and Donna standing at the entrance of the room watching the ghastly drama unfold in front of them.
The Education of Sebastian & the Education of Caroline Page 36