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‘Oh, I do. Because we used to lie here together like this and you had no clue...’
‘Of what?’
He took her hand and guided it beneath his untucked shirt.
She felt him under the fabric as she looked into his eyes. ‘I would probably have screamed.’
She smiled, shocked even now, but loving the feel of him, but then he removed her hand.
Alicia touched his cheek as she had wanted to earlier today, and pushed back his raven hair. She ran her finger around the shell of his ear, just so relieved to touch him, to finally touch his face.
She cast her mind back. ‘I wanted you to kiss me.’
‘Then why didn’t you stop talking?’
‘Nervous.’ She smiled. ‘I think.’
‘Are you nervous now?’
‘No,’ she said, and tried to think of the right word. ‘Impatient.’
He gave her the kiss she had thought then she wanted. Dante was correct. She had not been ready for his intensity back then.
His head blocked out the sun and he moved his body so he was half over her. Alicia loved the weight of him, and the way, if she put her hand to the back of his head, he kissed her harder and their tongues duelled. And then he pulled back, and she licked her lips and looked at his wet ones, and she met his eyes and they were black with passion.
‘Kiss me again,’ she asked him.
He obliged with a deeper kiss, his weight coming over her and Alicia decided she could be held like this for ever. His tongue was probing, his jaw rough, and when he moaned into her mouth she arched in response and tried to squeeze her body under him further, just for more of this bliss.
‘Hey...’ He was moving away, a little breathless.
‘Please don’t stop.’
Dante ignored her.
They were boiling, and sweaty, and so overdressed—not just for the blistering heat, but for the edge they were both on.
Alicia sat up and removed her shoes and glanced over. ‘I wish I was wearing socks.’
‘Take your tights off.’
‘Look away, then,’ she said, not wanting to flash her awful knickers.
‘Why?’
‘Just look away.’
He lay on his back, looking up at the sky, as she lifted her bottom and manoeuvred the thick heavy nylon. It was a relief to peel them off and to join him in lying down.
‘Better?’ he asked, turning and positioning himself on an elbow.
‘No,’ she admitted, for she was warm in new ways now.
Dante gave a low laugh and lightly kissed her, his hand coming to rest low on her stomach. Close, so close, to where he had lit the fire that was now starting to burn.
‘Please...’ she gasped, not knowing for what she asked, just that his fingers were hotter than black nylon in the Sicilian sun and it was more of this heat that she craved.
He kissed her again, deep and slow, and this time when he stopped she cursed.
