The Education of Sebastian & the Education of Caroline (37 page)

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he said, his voice forceful. “We fell in love: it’s not a crime.”

But I still felt like a criminal. Sometimes.

He kissed me on the lips, trying to lighten our suddenly bleak mood.

“Come on,” he said, pulling me to my feet. “Let’s dance!”

“What? You can’t dance, can you?”

“Oh, yeah? Is that what you think? Let me show you, baby!”

And he could, he really could!

He placed my arms around his neck, wrapped his around my waist and forced his right leg between mine so we were joined at the groin. If it hadn’t been for the fact we were practically
welded together, I would have fallen over from shock. No one had
ever
danced with me like this before. It was so good I was sure it must be illegal. In fact the way he wove our bodies together I was quite certain it would have been banned in several states.

David’s idea of dancing was to sway slowly, usually to a different tune from the one that was being played, and circle carefully on the spot. The only other man I’d danced with had been Papa—and that had been a waltz. I hadn’t even gone to my high school prom: I was already dating David so I hadn’t seen the point.

But this! This was more like sex to music but without the messy sheets. And in public.

He ground himself against me, our bodies undulating with the music. Then he spun me around and pulled me tightly against him again. I caught glimpses of envious faces of other women as we moved. Then his hands slid down to my ass and he pushed my hips into him, fingers splayed out over my buttocks.

When the tune finished I was red-faced and hyperventilating and so damn aroused! He grinned at me wickedly, knowing exactly what he’d done. He dipped me almost to the floor, then swept me up and kissed me hard.

The watching crowd gave us an ironic cheer and several yelled at us to get a room. It was the best suggestion I’d heard all day. Instead, Sebastian saluted the amused audience and grabbed my hand, towing me in the direction of the car.

“Where … where did you learn to do that?” I gasped.

“Shirley and Mitch,” he said, walking so fast I had to trot to keep up.

“You’re kidding me!”

“Nope! Base salsa champions, four years running.”

He pulled me down the street, a determined look on his face. When we got to the parking lot, I saw his eyes scanning the rows of parked cars until he found my Ford. I tried to fish my keys out of my purse but he was walking so quickly, it was hard to keep up and do anything else.

When we got to the car, he slammed my back against the door, his hands in my hair, his teeth on my throat .

“I want you so bad,” he breathed into my skin.

“Empty lot.”

“What?”

“That empty lot—you remember.”

“Fuck, yes!”

With shaking hands, I climbed into the driver’s side and fiddled with my seatbelt. Sebastian reached across me and snapped it into place, letting his fingers drift across my stomach as he did so; his heated expression made my mouth dry up.

I don’t know how I drove without having an accident—my whole body was on fire for him. Sebastian leaned back in the passenger seat, his eyes closed. He looked calm, but his too rapid breathing gave him away.

I swung into the weed-covered space of the empty lot, slammed on the brakes and the car screeched to a halt. I’d only just managed to take off my seatbelt before Sebastian was unzipping his pants and showing me just how much he wanted me. I was so turned on seeing his need. I crawled onto his lap and thanked my lucky stars I’d chosen to wear loose pants with an elasticized waistband. I pushed them over my hips, ignored the pain from my sore skin and sank down on to him.

There was no finesse, no gentle touches—it was hard and raw and urgent. Sebastian grabbed my hips, pumping me up and down even faster. His eyes were tightly closed and his head was buried in my chest, every muscle rigid. He came hard, shuddering into me. I whimpered as my body exploded from the inside out and, without meaning to, I bit down on his neck.

His arms tightened around me and we sat there, trying to adjust our shattered breathing.

Finally, the pain from my sore skin broke through the post-orgasmic miasma and I shifted awkwardly back to the driver’s side.

I glanced over to see Sebastian zipping up his pants, a huge grin on his face.

“We should name this empty lot,” he said.

“Like what? ‘Emergency Room’?”

“Yeah!” he laughed out loud. “I hope they never build on it.”

“Maybe they’ll build one of those Japanese Love Hotels and put a plaque on the wall in our memory.”

“What’s a Love Hotel?”

“Places where courting couples can go for some privacy. You can pay by the hour.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? Do they have them in San Diego?”

“I can see what you’re thinking, Hunter, and the answer is no way!”

He narrowed his eyes and then with a lascivious leer, leaned toward me. He ran his finger down my throat, over my t-shirt, between my breasts and all the way down to my stomach.

“You sure about that?”

My eyelids fluttered. I couldn’t remember what my reasoning was.

Suddenly he swore. “Fuck!”

A police officer was walking toward us.

He tapped on my window and I rolled it down. If he’d been two minutes earlier … I really didn’t want to think about that.

“May I see your license, please, ma’am?”

He was stocky, in his fifties, and had a weathered face that was not unkind.

“Yes! Yes, of course!”

I reached over to the back seat to grab my purse. I felt a little shaky; Sebastian just looked pissed.

The officer glanced at my ID and then over at Sebastian. “You from the Base, too, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hmm, well. This is private property. So you and
Mrs. Wilson
should find somewhere else to … park.”

“Yes, sir. We’ll do that. Thank you, sir.”

The officer handed me back my license and watched while we buckled ourselves in and I drove off.

Sebastian blew out a long gust of air and grinned at me.

“That was
so
embarrassing,” I whined.

He laughed and shook his head. “It was worth it.”

“Where shall we go now?” I said, still feeling grumpy.

“Somewhere we can get some food.”

“You’re hungry
again?
”

He gave me a wicked smile. “Sure! It must be all the … exercise.”

I slapped his leg. “You are a bad influence!”

“Yeah, baby, but you love it.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

I drove us back to the I-5 and then took a turning toward Mission Beach, heading north up the coast road until Sebastian told me to pull over.

“There’s a place here we can get some food,” he said, quietly. “This cove is real pretty—we could just sit and chill for a while.”

“Sounds great,” I said smiling at him. “Although I’m more thirsty than hungry.”

“You should eat something,” he said seriously.

I just adored the way he tried to look after me—so, so sweet.

“Okay, I’ll have a sandwich. Anything, whatever they’ve got.”

I wandered down the steps to the small cove and cautiously laid out the picnic blanket as near to the concrete steps as possible, without being so close that people would actually trip over me.

It was soothing being by the ocean. I imagined how blissful it would be to hear the sound of the waves rolling in until they were as familiar as breathing. I felt so full of hope for the future—I hadn’t even realized it had been missing from my life until Sebastian had opened my eyes.

I didn’t need to turn around to recognize his quiet footsteps coming down behind me. He had a bottle of water and a can of Coke in one hand, and two packages of sandwiches in the other. He flopped down next to me with a grin and kissed my shoulder.

“Tuna or BLT?”

“Tuna, please.”

He handed me the package and I took a huge bite. It was freshly made and very good.

“Hungry?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Must be all the exercise,” I said, glaring back with my mouth full.

He laughed and unwrapped his own sandwich.

He finished before me, of course, and pulled off his t-shirt to lean back on his elbows and soak up the sun. His smooth skin gleamed in the sunlight, utterly distracting me from finishing my sandwich. I ran my eyes over his flat stomach and muscled chest and decided I’d much rather eat him.

I laid the remains of the sandwich to one side and pushed him down onto the picnic blanket.

His eyes flashed open in surprise and then he let out a long sigh as I kissed his chest and teased his nipples with my tongue. Mmm. He tasted way better than any old sandwich, no matter how freshly made.

I stroked the flesh just below his waistband, running my fingers along the edge of the denim, knowing that he was primed and ready for action. He groaned.

“Caro, what are you doing to me?”

“Saying thank you for the sandwich,” I murmured against his stomach.

“You’re driving me crazy! How am I supposed to think about anything when you’ve got me like this?”

He gestured weakly toward his zipper.

“That’s the point,” I said, smiling against his chest. “You’re not supposed to think about anything.”

“It’s working,” he muttered, then ran his hands down my back, pulling me closer.

I wanted him very badly and I only had myself to blame. I wondered briefly if the storage closet at the country club’s locker room had a ‘vacancy’ sign on it. But he had work to do and I had room-shares to check out.

I ended our mutual torture, planting a loud kiss on his belly button, then snuggled into his shoulder, resting my head on his chest.

“When did you get to be such a bad girl?” he asked, stroking my hair.

“Oddly enough, around the time I met you,” I said sharply, digging my fingers into the ticklish spot around his waist.

“Okay, okay! I give in! Jeez, you play rough.”

“I got the distinct impression you like it rough,” I said, leaning up to look at him.

His anxious look was back immediately. “Oh, God, I’m sorry, Caro! I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Of course not! And believe me, I enjoyed our illicit car sex just as much as you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes! How many orgasms do I have to have for you to believe me?”

He smiled and looked smug. “Five is the record.”

“What?! You’ve been counting?”

He shrugged and looked a little embarrassed, as if he’d been caught out in a naughty secret, which he had.

“Can’t help it
—it’s a guy thing.”

“You … you haven’t said anything to Ches, have you? Because if you have I wouldn’t be able to look at him…”

“Of course not!” He sounded angry. “I would never say anything to anyone about us. Ches knows as much as he needs to.”

“Has he said anything else?”

Sebastian sighed. “He’s worried, I guess, but he won’t tell anyone.”

I decided to let it drop. If he trusted Ches, well … there was nothing I could do about it one way or another.

“By the way, did Brenda find you again yesterday?”

He scowled. “That stupid bitch nearly got me fired.”

While I wasn’t sorry that Brenda was annoying him, I was shocked to hear him talk about his ex-girlfriend like that.

“Did she … um … try again after I left?”

He sighed. “Kind of, but…”

“But what?”

“I told her I was seeing someone and that there was no way I was getting back with her after…”

Now he had my complete and undivided attention.

“After what?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled.

I bit my tongue, determined not to press him if he didn’t want to talk. But, wonder of wonders, my silence seemed to have the opposite effect.

“Ches told me some stuff … after I broke up with Brenda, she started hanging out with some of the guys we used to surf with. She was … partying a lot.”

“Oh.”

From the expression on his face I guessed that was a euphemism for sleeping around. I could see Sebastian wasn’t impressed with that.

I sighed to myself. Men were so good at double standards—here he was, having an affair with a married woman, and he was dismissing his ex-girlfriend because she’d slept with other people
after
they’d split up. I knew he didn’t think of what we had as an affair, but that was just his insider view, and if he’d have asked Ches to tell it like it was, that’s exactly what his friend would have said.

I felt almost sorry for Brenda. Almost.