We sat locked together for some moments before his eyes opened and he looked up at me. He smiled. It was like seeing a sunburst in the darkness and my heart leapt.
“Caro,” he said.
Then, still smiling, he closed his eyes and leaned back, pulling me to him. We lay wrapped in silence.
CHAPTER 6
Reluctantly, we disentangled ourselves and I shuffled back to my own seat, tugging my dress down to cover what wasn’t left of my modesty.
Sebastian pulled on his jeans and reached onto the back seat for his t-shirt.
“Leave it off,” I said. “I like to look at you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned back at me.
The windows were steamed up and the car smelled of sex. The moon cast a bluish light across the dunes and the ocean was an icy gray. I shivered.
“Are you cold?”
“No, not really. Are you?”
He shook his head, a wide grin threatening to break out again.
“Are you going to stop smiling at any point?” I asked, amused.
“Nope. Shouldn’t think so.”
“Do you want to go for a walk?”
“A walk?” He looked longingly at the back seat and I knew what he was thinking because I was thinking it, too. But there was something else I wanted to do first.
“Yes, a walk: perambulation, a stroll, an amble, a short journey made on foot.”
“Oh. That sort of walk. Okay, I guess.”
He half-fell out of the car and scooted around to open my door.
“My gallant knight.”
“Your anything,” he said seriously. “But I want to be your everything.”
Oh, Sebastian. You already are.
“I want to make love to you again,” he said softly.
“So do I.” It was important to reassure him. “But I want to walk on the beach with you. I want to walk on the beach with you and hold your hand and to not be afraid that someone will see us.”
My smile was sad and he leaned down to kiss me softly. He wasn’t the only one who needed reassurance.
The breeze was cool in the night air so I insisted that Sebastian wear his sweatshirt, in spite of my selfish desire to watch the ripple and play of his muscles as he moved.
I’d left the house in just my summer cocktail dress but luckily the car had a picnic blanket in the trunk. Sebastian draped it carefully around my shoulders.
The tide was a long way out, the shoreline stretching almost to the horizon; we wandered along the cold, flat sand, under the moonlight, leaving the footprints of lovers. I couldn’t help staring up at him as we walked hand-in-hand. His strong, clear profile, and soft, sensuous lips were thrown into relief by the moon’s light; he was beautiful. And for now, he was mine.
“What?” he said, looking down at me, amused.
“You’re so beautiful, Sebastian. And when I look at you I feel … happy.”
He swallowed and turned to face me.
“I want to make you happy, Caro. You look so sad most of the time.”
“Do I?”
He nodded and ran his thumbs across my cheeks before leaning down to kiss me.
His lips were so gentle, his kisses so sweet. I pulled him closer, wrapping the blanket around both of us so were shrouded under the moon.
Desire blazed through me again. I hadn’t known it could be so consuming, so devastating, so utterly impossible to think of anything but consummation. And seeing Sebastian so desperate for me, I was aroused beyond belief.
“Let’s find our dune,” I said.
He grabbed my hand and started dragging me up the beach.
“I can’t keep up!” I shouted at him, half-laughing, unable to match his long strides.
But he didn’t slow down; instead he swept me into his arms and staggered toward the nearest dune where he carefully stood me on my feet.
“Here,” he said, his voice commanding.
“Yes, sir!” I threw him a quick salute and a reluctant smile spread across his face.
“Sorry,” he said. “I just really want you.”
I threw the blanket at him and he caught it one-handed.
“Don’t be sorry,” I said. “Let’s have a picnic.”
“We haven’t got any food.” He looked puzzled.
“I was planning on eating you.”
His eyes widened with shock then a dazzling smile lit up his lovely face.
“Okay,” he said shyly.
For a moment the blanket floated above the sand as he spread it out, a matador with his cape.
I sat down rather inelegantly and watched him sink down beside me. I lay back and held up my arms to him in invitation. Accepting, his heat and weight pressed me into the blanket, his hands greedy on my body.
His touch was becoming braver and more confident and I celebrated in that; because I’d been the one to teach him. And there was no doubt that I was learning from him, too. I was beginning to understand what it meant to be loved. It was terrifying.