New Title 1

by Jane Harvey-Berrick

  “I move up your body, hovering over you. I moan slightly and you know it’s because I’m touching myself, turning myself on for you. My fingers are inside me, circling slowly, and when I pull them out, I place them on your lips and you suck them hard. You can taste me and you can smell the muskiness of my scent. You long to touch me, but then I take your fingers in my mouth, sucking them one by one. You imagine what my mouth would feel like around your cock: my lips, my teeth, my tongue swirling around. You can imagine what it would feel like when you move into my mouth and your tip touches the back of my throat.”

  I could see that his cock really was hard and ready for action.

  Not yet, Sebastian.

  “My hair brushes the skin on your chest as I arch away from you, and your skin is so sensitized you can feel every strand, every wave, every individual hair. I take your hand and move your fingers against my clitoris. I’m wet, very wet, and you know it won’t be long before your hot, hard cock is stroking inside me. I run my fingers around you, gripping you, squeezing you, and you know that I want you – every inch of you – inside me. You’re at the entrance of my sex, and you sink into me: slowly at first, then getting faster and harder, going deeper and deeper. Your control is unraveling because you can feel that hot, soft, sweet flesh all around you. My body starts to buck under yours and you know that Ind yugm close. You can feel ripples of pleasure pulsing through me and you’re wondering how long you can hold on before you come. You’re trying so hard to hold it back but then I clench around you, squeezing you, milking everything you have. And I’m begging you to give it to me again. I’m begging you to take me from behind, so you pull out, even though you’re aching to come, your balls hot and heavy, and then you’re looking at my ass, knowing that I want you so badly, waiting just for you.”

  By now Sebastian’s breathing was becoming rapid and his hands were hovering over his body as if he was desperate to touch me or to touch himself. My own words were making me moist and needful, but I carried on.

  “You plunge into me and it feels so deep this way; it’s never felt this good before. You’re so hard, your cock is aching for release but you want to enjoy every moment of it, so you hold back, hold back, hold back. But it’s hard, so hard, because I’m coming again and you desperately want to come with me, but you want me to have every second, every ounce of pleasure, so you hold back, hold back. And then I’m coming hard, like you’ve never felt before; and it’s so hot and wet and sweet – you spill into me, on and on and on.”

  And with those words, I grasped his cock, hard, and Sebastian came in my hand immediately. I stroked him a few more times, watching the creamy fluid spill onto his stomach, his chest muscles heaving with the effort of breathing, his eyes screwed shut.

  I kissed him softly on the lips and lay back next to him, snuggling into his shoulder.

  Eventually he opened his eyes and looked down at himself in amazement.

  “Fuck, Caro!” he croaked. “How… how…”

  “So, you’re the one who’s speechless now?” I said, smugly.

  I watched him for a while, as he tried to pull all his shattered pieces together. I reached over to my toiletry bag and pulled out a tissue to clean him up.

  He watched me with vacant eyes as I got up to throw the tissue away, then I sat back on the bed and smiled wickedly at him.

  “Enjoy my bedtime story?”

  “Fuck, yes! I still can’t believe you did that to me, Caro,” he said.

  “Well, Sebastian, now you have something to think about when we’re apart, or when you’re doing a tour. Now you can imagine me talking to you.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? With twenty other horny Marines sharing the same grot?” He groaned. “Oh, God! I won’t be able to get rid of that image now.”

  I laughed, “That’s kind of the point, Sebastian.”

  He shook his head, slowly.

  “Fuck, Caro! You are so fucking amazing. Did I ever tell you that?”

  “You may have mentioned it once or twice, but feel free to repeat yourself.”

  He still looked baffled: it was so cute.

  I slapped his chest. “Come on, let’s go shower. I’m hungry. For food.”

  I jumped off the bed and headed for the shower. I’d already shampooed and conditioned my hair, soaped myself clean and dried off with a towel, before the Marine managed to stagger into the bathroom.

  Jeez, and I thought these guys were supposed to be in good shape?

  Nicole would be so disappointed.

  Chapter 9

  The shower revived Sebastian enough that I felt almost safe letting him take us on the bike.

  “You okay?” I said. “You seem a little discombobulated.”

  “Fuck, yes, and I don’t even know what that means,” he said, nodding his head. “Fuck, Caro, I can’t get over that. I mean, you barely touched me. It was just… hot.”

  I smiled. “Ah, the power of words.”

  “There’s going to be payback,” he promised with a devilish smile.

  “Sebastian, if I wasn’t so damn hungry, I’d be dragging you back to the bedroom now and tying you down until you made a dishonest woman of me.”

  He stared at me with admiration and not a little surprise.

  “Jeez, you’ve gotten so… bossy. I like it.”

  I laughed delightedly. “Oh, Chief, I think you’ve been taking orders from the wrong people – but I’m going to help you with that.”

  “Can’t wait,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

  Then he pulled me into a hug and buried his face in my neck, tickling my skin with his warm breath.

  “I have missed you so much.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, tesoro.”

  We stood there quietly, his arms around me, each of us unwilling to break the spell.

  Eventually, he rubbed my back and kissed my hair lightly. “Let’s go eat.”

  Just three miles down the road was the pretty Marina di Cecina. Our friend at the beach shop had recommended that we eat at one of the restaurants on the waterfront. It probably belonged to an uncle or cousin, but it looked nice enough and had sensational views over the Mediterranean.

  “What the hell is that?” said Sebastian, pointing at the menu. “Cipolline agrodolci alla Cinque Terre. Is that onions?”

  “Yes, sweet and sour onions: it’s a local delicacy. You want to try them?”

  “Normally I’d say yes, but I’m really craving… steak,” he said, apologetically.

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re so American! You want fries with that?”

  “Yeah, now you mention it. Anyway, I’ve got to keep my strength up: this woman I’ve met is milking me dry. She can’t keep her hands off me.”

  “What a slut.”

  He smirked at me. “Well, she hasn’t been that slutty, but I’d really like to see her in slutty stockings and garter straps – no panties.”

  “Hmm, well I’m sure we can arrange it at some point, but I have to admit, Sebastian, I don’t actually own anything like that.”

  He looked surprised. “Not at all? I thought all women…”

  He stopped mid sentence, looking embarrassed, and wishing he could bite back the words.

  “Maybe all your previous women, Sebastian,” I replied, rather cuttingly, “but no, not me, I don’t.”

  Wisely, he buried his eyes in the menu.

  “Sebastian, apart from you, I last had a date nearly three years ago. And there’s not a lot of need for slinky underwear on assignment to military bases – well, not for me, anyway. Maybe you know differently?” and I raised my eyebrows at him.

  “Why don’t you date, Caro?” he asked, looking up, his voice puzzled. “I mean, you’re fucking gorgeous, anyone can see that, and you’re clever and funny. Any man would have to be blind not to want you.”

  And I realized he meant it. Would I ever get used to hearing him say things like that to me? I hoped not.

  “I’ve just… not been that interested
. No one’s really caught my eye.”

  He shook his head in amazement.

  “Oh, wait, Major Parsons asked me out: Mike. He was pretty cute,” I said, casually glancing at Sebastian.

  “That fucking bastard!” he snarled, sounding really angry.

  “Sebastian, I said no. And actually, he was really sweet about it. He wasn’t pushy or anything.”

  I was regretting making Sebastian jealous, but damn, it made me feel wanted. And I really wasn’t used to that.

  I decided to change the subject before his temper spoiled our meal.

  “What were you thinking, that first day, when we saw each other at the press training? You looked really mad.”

  His gaze became distant, remembering the day, only one week ago.

  “Just so fucking shocked. I saw the name ‘Lee Venzi’ on the training list. I recognized it because I’d read some of your articles…”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, sure. I check out all the journos who go on these gigs. I want to know what kind of shit… sorry, what kind of writing they do. I thought yours was good.”

  I shot him a look.

  “No, really. I’m not just saying that. I kind of assumed you were ex-forces because of the way you understood the military. And we were all expecting you’d be a guy. Obviously somebody screwed up on the background checks. But as far as your online presence, you’re definitely a man.”

  I smiled serenely at him. “That’s the general idea. I’ve had quite a few assignments given to me because people assume I’m a man; jobs they wouldn’t give to a woman.”

  Sebastian frowned at me. “Yeah, but there could be a good reason for it, too. I mean, some of the places you go are dangerous and…”

  I caught his hand and placed my fingers over his lips.

  “Shh, tesoro. They’re a lot less dangerous than where you go, and we’re not having this conversation.”

  He scowled and started to argue.

  “No, I mean it. This is my work. Please drop it.”

  He didn’t look happy about it, but he didn’t argue further either; instead he gave me a look that said the discussion wasn’t over, merely postponed.

  “You were going to tell me what you thought when you first saw me,” I reminded him.

  “Shock. At first I thought you’d done it deliberately somehow. And then I saw the look on your face, like you didn’t know what to say to me either, and I realized it was just as weird for you as it was for me.”

  “And then?”

  “I just kept thinking how mad I was at you; blaming you for all the shit. I kept trying to hold on to all that anger, but you just looked so… you looked just the same. And I kept thinking, maybe I got it wrong. And then I remembered that you hadn’t come looking for me and… it was so fucking confusing, Caro.”

  He stared out at the water washing over the beach.

  “And then you tried to talk to me and I just freaked. I couldn’t… not in front of all those people, not with all the things I wanted to… I found a bar and just started drinking… getting up the courage to go see you. I really screwed that up, didn’t I?”

  “Royally,” I said, nodding my head.

  He looked apologetic and stared at his hands.

  “It doesn’t matter now, Sebastian,” I said, quietly.

  He shook off the memory, but I could tell it still bothered him.

  “What did you think, when you saw me?” he said.

  “You mean after the oh-my-God moment? I thought you looked bitter: your eyes looked so cold and hard. Gorgeous, of course; but you looked like you’d really changed. I was… intimidated. And then Liz told me you’d got this reputation… as something of a lady-killer…”

  Sebastian scowled.

  “Well, you did ask.”

  “Yeah, well… what else did you think?”

  “She said you were brilliant, too, if that makes you feel any better.”

  “Not much.”

  I sighed. “I just thought I’d try and talk to you by yourself, but you kept avoiding me. So, I assumed you didn’t want anything to do with me. I was… hurt, but I guess I accepted it. Can we talk about something else? This is making me feel blue.”

  “Sure, baby,” he said, smiling softly. “How about we plan the rest of the trip?”

  I smiled back. “Yes, please.”

  He reached over to his jacket, which was hanging from the back of his chair, and pulled out the map.

  “Well, it’s up to you, Caro. We could keep going down the coast road to Salerno, look up your dad’s old village. Or take it slower, go see some of Tuscany. Siena is supposed to be amazing and there’s this old hilltop town, Montepulciano that looks really cool. Or go right down to the bottom – check out Sicily.”

  “What do you want to do, Sebastian? I don’t mind having another day on the beach if you want to do some more surfing – it’s your vacation, too.”

  “Nah, that’s okay – it’s going to be flat tomorrow – I already checked.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course. Silly me.”

  “It’s about 200 miles to your dad’s village. We could be there this time tomorrow. If you want.”

  I thought about it for a moment. I was probably investing too much in what would inevitably be a big disappointment.

  “No, let’s take it easy. I’d like to see some more of Tuscany. I’ve heard of Montepulciano: they have good wine. And honey.”

  He smiled at me, amused. “How come you know all this food stuff?”

  I stared back as if, for once, he was missing the blindingly obvious. “I’m Italian, Sebastian.”

  He laughed out loud, and swept my hand off the table to kiss my fingers.

  The waiter arrived with our order, interrupting our moment, although he smiled apologetically.

  The food, including Sebastian’s enormous Bistecca Alla Fiorentina steak with fries, was good, and we were quiet for several minutes as we ate.

  I toyed with my question for some time.

  “What is it?” said Sebastian, at last, laying down his knife and fork.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You have that look on your face – like you want to ask me something. You can ask me anything, Caro.”

  I was amazed: people didn’t usually read me that well. But then again, Sebastian knew me better than anyone. How strange.

  “Well, there was something… did you mean what you said about quitting the Marines?”

  “Sure. I mean, I re-upped two years ago, so I’d have to do another two before I punch out…”

  Disappointment flooded through me. Two more years.

  “Do you think you’d have to do another tour in Afghanistan?”

  He looked at me thoughtfully.

  “I don’t know, Caro. Most guys wouldn’t be sent out again that quickly, but… well, they’re short of interpreters, especially non-locals, and military intelligence....”

  He stopped abruptly, realizing he’d said too much.

  “Sebastian, whatever you tell me, that’s between us. I would never use it in my work.”

  “I know that, baby, but there are some things I can’t tell you… and some things that it’s better you don’t know.”

  I wasn’t happy that there were secrets between us, but I understood.

  “They’re not going to be pleased that you’re dating a journalist.”

  He glanced away, briefly, then smiled at me. “Nope. Don’t think so, although they couldn’t stop me...”

  “So… I guess it would be better to keep this between us, just for now?”

  He nodded, then leaned back in his chair.

  “Would you give it up, Caro? Working in war zones, traveling all over the world?”

  I’d been waiting for him to ask me that question, but I still didn’t know how I was going to answer it. The truth was: I didn’t want to give it up. I’d worked hard to achieve the position I’d reached – and I enjoyed it. Yes, my work took me into dangerous areas, but it was
rare that I was on the frontline; not like Sebastian. Oh, yes: my hypocrisy knew no bounds.

  So, what was the compromise? He gave up everything and I gave up nothing? But if I did give up my work, how long would it be before I felt resentful and tied down. And he wanted us to have kids. Whatever he said about ‘seeing what happened’, I knew that was high on his list of priorities.