Thank you, thank you, I thought. Smiling, I snuggled my head into the crook of his arm, looking up at his face, touching the cleft in his chin. “Hey, how do you shave in there?”
“Very carefully,” he whispered. “Your sunburn’s looking better. Shall I put some gel on it?”
“Oh, yes,” I said. He opened the bottle and carefully applied the aloe vera to my face, neck, arms, and legs.
Then I took the cooling gel and rubbed it on his sunburn, which was already starting to heal. “Denis,” I started, “there’s something I have to get off my chest…” I glanced at him and his eyelids were closing. Soon his rhythmic breathing said he was out, so I watched him sleep. My confession would have to wait. He looked like a little boy, so perfectly at peace. A faint whistling sound came out of his nose each time he exhaled. Oh, how I loved that sound. Tonight you’re mine completely, I sang to myself. But will you love me tomorrow? Look at me, I sighed. I’m just like the woman in the Carole King song. I tried to recall what happened at the end, but couldn’t. Did he love her when the night met the morning sun? Damned if I could remember. The last thing I recall before drifting to sleep was wishing that I could stay in this bed with Denis forever.
Let’s Do It (Let’s Fall in Love)
I WOKE UP CURLED AGAINST this warm, sleeping bear of a man and for a moment thought he was Alessandro. Then I remembered the feel of his rough cheek against my skin, the smell of his breath as we kissed, and the slow, sweet shudder of orgasms we’d shared. My heart filled with joy and gratitude. Something wonderful had happened to me and it hadn’t been a dream. I glanced at the clock. It was ten. The room was so dark, I wasn’t sure if that meant ten in the morning or evening. Surely we hadn’t slept through the night? It would be so unlike me to skip a meal. I slipped out of bed and crept over to the window and peeked out. The sun blinded me for a moment and I realized that we had indeed slept all night.
In the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and played with my hair. I have one of those messy haircuts that’s supposed to make me look like I just rolled out of bed, but it never looks like I just got out of bed when I really did. It takes a lot of work and careful arranging to create that careless tousled look. So I spent about five minutes working to achieve perfect bed head.
Sneaking under the covers, I cuddled up to Denis, who slowly opened his eyes and smiled when he saw me. “You just wake up?” he said dreamily.
That’s what I mean about the haircut.
Denis reached over and drew me to him, holding my face in his hands, then kissing my lips urgently, hungry for my tongue. Alessandro would never have pressed his lips to mine if either of us had overnight bacteria buildup, but Denis didn’t care and neither did I. His beard scratched my cheek as we kissed. He regarded my body with satisfaction, then slowly nibbled my breasts, caressed my belly, licked my thighs. I loved how he didn’t rush the way Alessandro always did. Moments later, I sensed Denis’ desire to enter me, to merge our hearts and bodies. “Yes, yes,” I said, and we were making love again. All thoughts of Alessandro flitted into oblivion. Afterward, we spooned in bed, and with Denis’s warm body cuddled close, he ran his fingertips up and down my belly, softly like a feather. It felt divine, but my stomach started to rumble, which reminded me that I was hungry, which reminded me that we couldn’t go out to eat in our dirty green running suits. We’d just have to order in breakfast along with two new sets of clothes, preferably not matching.
“WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE to see?” Denis asked, pouring coffee. We were enjoying room service in bed. “The Colosseum? The Vatican? The Forum? There’s so much history in Rome. I could hire a guide.”
“Why don’t we just walk around and let the city surprise us?” I said. “I’ve never been here before, except yesterday, and that doesn’t really count.”
Denis slathered strawberry jam on a steamy croissant and held it to my lips. I opened my mouth and took a bite, trying to eat it in the slowest, most sensuous way, but jam dribbled down my chin and crumbs spilled all over the sheets. He laughed at me.
“Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?” I said. I stuck my finger in the crystal jar of orange marmalade and removed a dollop, which I promptly smeared on his chest.
“Hey,” he said. “Are you trying to start a food fight?”
“Not exactly,” I said, moving onto my knees and licking the sticky sweetness off his nipple.
“Ooh, I like that,” he said, leaning back and surrendering to his bliss.
“Well, if you like that, here’s something you’ll like even more,” I said. This time, I took a generous helping of strawberry jam (which I personally prefer over orange marmalade) and rubbed it on his belly, chest, and rapidly rising erection. After licking the jam off each finger with my tongue (oh so slowly), I tore the bill for our breakfast into little scraps and stuck them on all his sticky places.
“Why, you kinky thing,” he said. “Whatever are you doing?”
“Well,” I purred, “I dripped jam on you, so I marked the spots where I’m going to have to lick it up. You just lie back while I eat you.” My tongue flickered across his belly and chest while he moaned
