Dedicated to that 'wench' @MNDaydreamer
"Should I be concerned about this apparent fetish you have for bums?"
"It's hardly a fetish; I don't think it possesses magical qualities or get sexual gratification from looking at it...well, not to an abnormal degree anyway." He made a strange noise. "And besides, it's not all bums, just yours." I grinned to myself and moved from where I had been perched over his legs admiring his gluteus maximus to laying down beside him. "Although, come to think of it..."
"Mmm?" He rolled over on to his side, one hand propping his head while the other came to rest on my hip.
"There are some very nice bums out there - Hardy, McAvoy, Hiddleston, Fassbender..." He made a sort of choking snort, which caused me to giggle - I'd deliberately picked people I knew he'd worked with. And who did actually have nice bums, of course. Not that I was looking.
"Are you winding me up, Miss de Luca?" His head came so close to mine that I felt his warm breath tickle my lips while his hand meandered slowly up from my hip over the plane of my stomach to settle on my right breast, where it did not remain idle.
"That all depends," I breathed, looking at him through my lashes and squirming a little at what that hand was doing. "Is it working?"
In answer he moved his head the fraction of an inch needed to lower his lips to mine in a kiss that quickly went from soft and sweet to hot and demanding. A small whimper escaped me when his hand left its spot to pull me closer until I was tucked underneath him, so to make up for it he replaced his hand with his mouth and I gasped and arched my back.
"Oh God! Remind me to bring up bums again..."
"Teasing wench." His mouth came back to mine hungrily as I tangled my fingers in his hair.
"I like 'wench' by the way." I said when he lifted his head again.
"Hmm..." His mouth fastened on my other breast, his hand now moving lower down my body. When his lips began to follow the path of his hand I heard him muttering "Wenchie, wench, wench," and I giggled. He lifted his head and looked up at me, lids hooded with desire but a half smile on his face. "Stop laughing, wench!" and I burst out in renewed chortles. He silenced me with a kiss but by now he was laughing too.
Knock, Knock!
"Are you expecting someone?"
"At nine o'clock on a Sunday night?"
"Do you want to answer it?"
I gave him my very best 'are you kidding?' look. "Hopefully they'll go away when I don't answer. Unless it's one of my - "
"Cara?" A male voice sounded from my lounge room.
"Shit!" I whispered, frozen with shock for a minute before I sprang into action, pushing Ben off me and scrambling out of bed to search for clothing. "It's my brother!"
"I'll be right out," I called to Marco, still looking frantically for something to put on. I found my abandoned t-shirt and pulled that over my head, looking around for my panties.
"Should I meet him?" Ben asked, also whispering.
"No! God, no!"
"Why not?"
"Shit! What the hell did you do with my panties, Cumberbatch?" I was getting a little worried I wouldn't find them. "Because," I began answering his question as I threw the various pieces of discarded clothing in a haphazard fashion, "I am an Italian Catholic and while my brothers may be aware on a certain subconscious level that I am no longer chaste and virtuous, I don't need them to come face-to-face with a naked man in my bed. Ah-hah!" I quickly pulled on the errant underwear, smoothed my hair as best I could and gave Ben a quick kiss on the mouth. "Stay here and don't make any noise." Then I went out to the lounge, careful not to let my brother get a look into my room as I firmly closed the door.
"What are you doing here, Marco? And how many times have I told you not to let yourself in with my spare key?"
He just shrugged, as I knew he would; that was Marco. I sighed.
"What was that talking I heard?"
"Talking?"
"From your room, just now."
Holy shit. Think quickly, think quickly. "That was...the TV." Phew!
"How long have you had a TV in your bedroom?"
"I've had a TV in my bedroom for...as long as...I've had it. What difference does it make? Am I not allowed to buy myself a television for the pleasure of nighttime viewing?"
"Were you in bed already? It's only nine o'clock."
"I was...just about to have a shower. What is this, the Spanish Inquisition? I didn't realize I needed your approval. Dammi una pausa, Marco!" (Give me a break!)
"Okay, okay, scusa, scusa." He put his hands up in front of him.
"Why are you here?" I repeated.
"I need some advice about Antonella."
I groaned internally. Marco and Antonella had had an on-again, off-again relationship for almost two years and he'd come to me for advice a number of times. The problem was that he didn't learn from his mistakes and they kept breaking up and getting back together. Sometimes I wondered why she kept taking him back, but hell, he is my brother and I love him.
He told me that their anniversary was approaching and he wanted to do something special so he had planned what he called the most romantic evening ever. It involved picking her up with a bouquet of flowers, taking her out to dinner at a fancy restaurant where he'd arranged for the violinist to serenade them at the table and a bottle of expensive champagne to be chilled and waiting, then giving her a beautiful diamond necklace. It all sounded great in theory except that he'd done something similar before and it had failed to win Antonella over - she didn't like showy expressions of affection, she wanted simple and sincere; something Marco was unfortunately not good at.
"Marco, listen carefully. That is not the way to win her heart, trust me. If you want to give her flowers, ask for some wildflowers from Mrs Albertini's garden, don't give her hothouse ones. Forget the expensive dinner at a fancy restaurant and cook her dinner yourself - she will appreciate the effort so much more. And don't for God's sake make her do the dishes afterwards!" I knew my brother; he didn't do domestication well. "A violin playing right next to your table just means you can't hear each other talk, have some soft music playing in the background - her favourite music, preferably, if you know what it is, and talk about things that interest her. Light candles, tons of candles, and have them all around the room. Pull her chair out for her, place her napkin in her lap - you do know what a napkin is, don't you?"
He gave me a withering look. "Sì, io non sono stupido!" (Yes, I'm not stupid!)
The little grunt I gave earned me another look but I ignored it.
"And this will work, si? She will like this?"
"I guarantee it."
"Grazie sorellina." (Thank you little sister)
"Prego. Now get out of here so I can get back to..." Oh God, what excuse had I used?
"The shower. I know." I walked him to the door, we hugged and kissed and he thanked me again before leaving.
A thought occurred to me and I quickly opened my door again. "Marco! Give me back my spare key!" Once I had that I deadlocked the door to make sure there would be no more unwelcome visitors.
I was grumbling about brothers under my breath as I went back into the bedroom, only to find Ben up and putting on his clothes. "What's wrong? What's happened?"
"Nothing's happened, I just want to talk to you about something."
Uh oh. Serious face. Requires clothing. This can't be good. Can it?
"Should I get dressed too? I should get dressed too. Or at least put my jeans back on so I'm not just in a t-shirt and panties." I looked around the room for my clothes. "Then again, maybe I should put a bra on. It is after nine and I have taken it off for the night, so putting it back on kind of breaks the unspoken girl rule of 'I've taken my bra off for the day and that's it' but I guess -"
"Cara."
I took a deep breath. "Benedict."
He put his hands on my shoulders and I looked into his face: still serious. Shit. "Okay, two things - one, you're rambling nervously and two, you just called me Benedict. What's going on?"
"I have no idea."
"What?"
"I don't know what's going on, you're the one who said we need to talk. You look serious so I called you Benedict because that's a more serious name than Ben and I'm rambling because I'm nervous and I'm nervous because you look serious and you're getting dressed and I have no idea what's happening but I'm really nervous." It all came out in one big long breath, so I had to gasp for air at the end of my verbal spew. "And now I've said that about four times so for God's sake shut me up."
His hands slid down to take both of mine in his and he pulled me to the bed so we sat down on the edge. He didn't let go of my hands. "I'm sorry I've been tied up for most of this weekend; I wanted to say this sooner, I just haven't had the chance."
"Okay." Now he looked nervous. Oh Lord.
"Cara, I know we've only known each other for a month and that's not a long time, but it has been the most...amazing month. You're an incredible woman and I love every second I spend with you; you are warm and caring, funny and bright and yes, somewhat kooky." His smile warmed me all over. "But I've come to realize I needed some kooky." He took a deep breath. "I want to introduce you to my parents and I'd like to meet your family..."
"Oh! Is this about you calling me your girlfriend?" Relief and awareness swept through me.
His cheeks turned a brilliant shade of fushia. "You know about that? I'm sorry, I know we should have had this conversation sooner, I just...would you...how do you feel..." He was so obviously nervous and flustered, it was absolutely adorable.
Throat suddenly tight, I kissed him softly, a mere whisper of a kiss. "Yes," I breathed; it was all I was capable of, but it was enough.