We all look down, and Tito looks up at us. I rub his head, and he leans against my leg. “I guess he belongs to himself,” I say.
“Indeed,” wise Nonna says. “As long as he has friends and a warm place for the evenings, like us all. That’s all we need.”
I feel good, even if I’m unsure what I’m going through. I’m enjoying connecting, but I know I’m becoming infatuated with Dante. It’s either that or a wicked crush.
A crush on my wicked teacher.
I flick my eyes up again, and they find the cold grump across the room. He is looking back at me, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. It keeps me on edge. A knife edge that could end with a shredded heart.
After driving home,I cook dinner over the fire, and I follow a recipe my mother taught me when I was young. Dante selected an old wine from somewhere in the castle, and when I asked the age, he’d said around World War II.
After I asked how outrageously expensive it would be, he ignored my comment. He then said it was for a special evening, and that money was no object.
The wine, food, and fresh bread from Nonna are good, and we eat on the turret with Tito. We discuss life as the sun sets, and we watch it sink below the horizon.
We then pull-on old jackets, and we walk around the property with whiskeys and Tito.
As we pass the old barn, we see the chickens pecking away again. “Strange they’re still here when the castle was locked up for so long,” Dante says, deep in thought. “I’m sure I remember some as a child.”
“It’s likely their children,” I say, “And the life cycle continuing.”
“Hmm…” Dante says, mumbling away, deep in thought.
As we walk on, the stars become more visible, and I sigh and stare up. “I think I’m in love.”
Dante stops all of a sudden, and his eyes are big for the first time. He also looks lost for words.
“With… your grandmother,” I say, clarifying my position.
Dante chuckles, and he stares up. “Me too. She’s an amazing woman and a balanced person.”
“She is,” I say as we continue.
As we reach the cliff edge, we stop and look down to the beach and coast. I stare ahead and it slips out. “I like you quite a lot too.”
Dante turns to me, and he watches me closely. I think about this next sentence, and I say it slowly. I can’t not.
I need to know!
“When you’re… finished with me, it would be nice to stay in contact with Nonna. She’s special!” Dante looks at me, and he appears unsure what to think.
Will it really soon end? And will he really discard me?
Dante leans in, and he lifts my chin gently. He then kisses my cheeks one by one. He is nothing like the commanding brute or teacher who takes me wildly, and he is not the man who makes me beg to come.
This is another man.
“It’s sweet you two get on so well. Really.”
“Why?” I ask, leaning against him and wanting to know how he feels… And if he feels.
Dante says nothing, and I try to read his face.
As my fingertips find his face, I trace lines around his jaw and cheeks. I then lean in, and I plant a soft kiss on his lips.
I slide my tongue inside his mouth, and I draw his tongue inside my own. Seconds later, I start to work his tongue, but it’s not like before.
Dante is gentle, soft, and caring. He holds me close, but without his usual powerful sexual energy.
