ATasteofRome (3 page)

Ryan groaned as he woke up. He hadn’t even opened his eyes
yet, and he knew the room would be spinning when he did. He, Shanna and Taryn had
found another bar just around the corner from their hostel and had put a
considerable amount of money into its till and drunk rather a lot. As a result,
he was horrendously hungover. The most ironic part was that if he hadn’t been crashing
in a mixed dorm, he’d have taken the girls back to his room much earlier and
they’d have spent the time having some sexy fun instead of continuing to drink.
Maybe the four of them should have sprung for a hotel instead of the much cheaper
mixed-sex dorm.

He and the girls had stumbled in some time after two,
stifling giggles as they worked their way between the other beds to their own.
Ryan vaguely remembered wanting to screw the girls anyway—his inebriation
making him into a blatant exhibitionist, it seemed—but luckily Shanna had
retained enough presence of mind to remind him where he was and that if they
weren’t exactly being quiet now, how much noise would they make if they started
having sex?

He’d reluctantly agreed and flopped down onto his bed still
fully clothed. Kristian’s bed had been empty, which he’d taken as a good sign.

Slowly opening his eyes, he glanced over to see that his
friend still wasn’t there.
Definitely
a good sign. He was gratified to
see that Shanna and Taryn were still asleep. He might feel shitty, but at least
they weren’t up and out and being all perky and energetic and making him look
like a lightweight.

After lying in silence for a few moments until he got used
to the dizzy feeling, Ryan got up and headed to the bathroom. There was a
queue, so he pulled his phone from his pocket, noting with surprise that it was
8:30 a.m.—way later than he’d previously thought—and sent his friend a text.

Morning, Casanova. Just going for a shower then heading
over the road for breakfast. Will I be seeing you today or you spending the day
with your sexy cougar?

Ryan had showered, changed and put his stuff back in his
locker before his phone bleeped a reply.

As soon as I work out where the hell I am, I’ll be there.
Aria went to work and left me here. Wherever here is.

Ryan sniggered. Poor Kris. He’d clearly had a good night,
and now he was paying for it.

You can’t be that far away if she was drinking in the bar
over the road. You sure you’re not in the flat above it? Did you walk to hers
or get on the Metro or in a taxi?

We walked,
his friend replied,
so yeah, I’ll just
get dressed and head outside and try and get my bearings. And no, I’m not in
the flat above the bar! See you there soon. Hopefully.

Ryan shoved his phone back in his bag and headed out of the
hostel and over to the bar-restaurant. He was quite glad he was alone for now.
He wasn’t really in the mood for socializing. He didn’t feel tired, just off
his game and more than a little grumpy. He ordered the biggest, greasiest
breakfast the place did and ate it while he sipped a cup of coffee.

He was just mopping up the juices on his plate with a slice
of bread when a disheveled-looking Kristian sat down next to him. The two men
shared a grin. “All right, mate?” Ryan asked.

Kristian nodded. “Yeah, just about. I don’t know whether
that was the best or the scariest night of my life. She’s a cougar in more ways
than one. It was like shagging a wildcat, claws and all.”

Ryan was glad he’d already swallowed his mouthful of coffee.
“Ha! Who’d have thought the posh bird liked rough sex? Ah well, I’m glad you
had a good time, mate. Now are you coming out with me today or having your
chilled-out day?”

“What do you think?” He looked exhausted and more than a
little shell-shocked.

Downing the rest of his coffee, Ryan pulled his wallet from
his bag and put a note on the table. “That’ll cover mine and a bit of yours
too. See you later, Casanova.” He slapped his friend on the back, laughing when
he winced.

Kristian groaned. “Yeah.”

Heading out into the sunshine, Ryan reached into his bag and
slipped his sunglasses onto his face, very glad of the protection they afforded
against the bright light, shielding his poor, hungover eyes. After checking his
guidebook for how to get there, he headed for the Metro station and the
Colosseum.

Several hours later, Ryan felt much better. The heat had
ramped up, forcing him to drink plenty of water, and as a result he’d beaten
his hangover. Which was lucky, really, considering the crowds that were waiting
to get into the Roman Forum. He’d been early getting to the Colosseum, so it
hadn’t been too bad, but now people were out in their droves. It wouldn’t have
been very good at all if he’d thumped someone for getting into his personal
space. He was sure it was worth the wait, though. The arena had been amazing
and he was sure this would be too.

He eventually gained admittance and deliberately headed in
the opposite direction most people did. Maybe he was doing it all wrong, but he
wanted to explore the place in his own way, in his own time. He’d barely gone a
dozen meters before he had his camera in his hand and was snapping photos. The
jumble of ruins and views across to the Colosseum were definitely
picture-worthy. Temples, columns, arches, gardens and history were in rich
abundance here, and he was confused about why it was overshadowed so extremely
by the huge structure over the road. They were intriguing in different ways,
and after walking farther into the complex, he quickly realized he could easily
spend the rest of the day here and probably another day besides. The area was
enormous. It was definitely not an hour’s visit. He was suddenly very glad he’d
grabbed a snack from a street vendor before heading over here.

The Roman Forum was so vast that the crowds at the entrance
quickly dissipated and it didn’t feel at all crowded. So he looked at
everything he wanted to, took as many pictures as he wanted, all without
feeling rushed or as though he were annoying other people. It was wonderful.
Despite that, he was glad when he passed through an archway signed
Vigna
Barberini
and realized it was a garden of sorts. It wasn’t full of flowers
or anything—it was more an open, grassy space with the occasional tree, a
couple of benches and ruins on either side. Walking farther up the path, he
realized it also had amazing views over the Colosseum. It was the ideal place
to pause awhile and chill out.

Spotting a rare area of shade, he headed quickly to a corner
made by two walls, checked the ground for lizards or other creatures to avoid
squashing them, and sat down on the grass. It was surprisingly peaceful and he
could easily forget he was in the middle of a tourist attraction, over the road
from another. And a very busy road, at that, full of mad Italian motorists.

He retrieved his drink from his bag and sat sipping it and
watching people wander past. He was so relaxed that he didn’t notice anyone
approaching him until they were right next to him.

“
Ciao.
Hello,” said a feminine voice.

He turned to look who’d spoken to him and his interest was
immediately piqued. The girl who stood there looked to be around his age, and
was very pretty. Her dark hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, presumably
to keep it off her neck. Her eyes, also dark, glinted with mischief, and her
body had curves he’d happily get lost in for a very long time. They were
scarcely covered by a tight, low-cut vest top and a shortish flouncy skirt.

“Hi,” he said, smiling. “Can I help you?”

“No,” she said, grinning back. “Is it okay if I sit with
you?” Her speech was slow, measured, as though she was thinking what to say.
Which she probably was, given that English clearly wasn’t her first language.

“Yes, of course.” He indicated the grass beside him and she
slipped off her backpack and settled there immediately. Unzipping the holdall,
she pulled out a paper bag containing a bunch of grapes.

“Would you like some?” she said, still smiling.

“Thank you.” Ryan took a small handful. “What’s your name?”

“Emelia. Yours?”

“Ryan. Good to meet you.”

She inclined her head. “You are visiting Rome?”

“Yes. I’m, uh,” he wondered how to explain his gap year, as
the phrase seemed to be lost on non-Brits, “taking some time off before going
to University.”

“I am too!” she said excitedly, her expressive eyes full of
glee. “I am from a small town outside of Naples, so am visiting here before
traveling.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve done. I live in the middle of
England and I visited London before going on to Paris, then here.”

Their mutual expeditions gave them plenty to talk about and
they continued chatting and munching on the grapes for some time, before Emelia
suddenly put them down on the grass and shuffled closer to Ryan.

“I am looking for some fun, too, Ryan. Are you?” There was
no mistaking her emphasis on the word
fun
, and Ryan couldn’t help but
wonder if he’d fallen asleep in the sun and started dreaming. Was it really
possible that she was coming on to him? In the short space of time since he’d
left home, he’d had more sex than he’d had previous to the trip. Maybe. So that
wasn’t true, but it certainly felt like it, probably because it had been with
several different women, as opposed to a long-term girlfriend.

Emelia’s gorgeous face morphed into a look of concern, so he
figured he’d better answer her, dream or no dream. “Are you talking about sex?”
He hadn’t intended to be so blunt but the words were out before he could stop
them.

She giggled. “Yes. I hope that is okay.”

“Yes, yes, it’s definitely okay.” He threw all caution to
the wind, slipped a hand behind her neck and pulled her toward him for a kiss.
Their upper bodies, as well as their lips, melded together. Ryan reveled in the
feeling of plump lips kissing his and soft breasts pushing against his chest. She
brought whole new meaning to the phrase “dangerous curves”.

Emelia opened her mouth and sneaked her tongue into his. He
quickly came to the conclusion that it was a very wicked tongue too. She was no
innocent, from the way she explored his mouth, tickled his gums and the insides
of his lips, the way she twisted her tongue with his, slipped them sensuously
together in moves that were practiced, skilled and incredibly erotic. Ryan had
a very unmanly thought—that if she carried on for much longer, he was going to
melt into a puddle of goo. Or perhaps, with a more masculine slant, he’d
transform into a mass of writhing hormones.

Either way, she was turning him on like crazy and he wished
he could get her somewhere more private.

It seemed she, too, was getting horny, as she pulled away
from him only to move so she sat astride him, her lower legs and feet tucked
behind his bottom and her floaty skirt covering their laps. Ryan decided to
take advantage and slipped his hand beneath the material, caressed her thigh
and waited to see her reaction—whether she’d balk or whether she’d want him to
carry on. He was pretty sure he knew the answer but he wanted to check.

The pleased moan she gave against his mouth definitely
indicated that she wanted him to carry on, and he moved his hand higher,
stroking her soft skin until he reached her crotch and its unmistakable heat. Emelia
still hadn’t protested, so he hooked his fingers into the gusset of her
knickers and pulled them to one side, then touched her bare skin.

Now it was his turn to moan. Not only was she hot, she was
wet too. Not totally slick but he’d soon rectify that. He gently slipped two
fingers inside her pussy and pressed his thumb to her clit.

Emelia purred like a contended cat. Ryan hushed her. They
didn’t want to attract too much attention. They were already was past “get a
room” territory. Yes, they were quite a distance from the path and the benches,
but they were still in full view of anyone who happened to look in their
direction.

He kissed her again, attempting to swallow or at the very
least muffle any sounds she might make as he continued to pleasure her. Curving
his fingers, he pressed them against the spongy pad on the inside of her
vaginal wall, rubbing it.

Her response was to nibble at his bottom lip, her sharp
teeth digging into the sensitive skin, much harder than was necessary. In
response, he slipped his fingers from her cunt, pausing for effect before
slicking her juices over her clit and beginning to stroke her nub in earnest.
Emelia rolled her hips, urging him on, and he could only hope her skirt was
hiding the worst of their sins. At least they weren’t in the Vatican Garden,
running the risk of being struck down by a lightning bolt from the heavens.

She kissed him more savagely, pushing hard against him,
their teeth clashing, lips bruising. His cock was so stiff it hurt. But oddly,
he didn’t mind that he wasn’t going to get any relief, not until he could sneak
some time alone in the shower later, anyway. It was nice, having all his focus
on someone else’s pleasure without thinking of his own.

That wasn’t strictly true—he got pleasure from pleasuring
women. Watching them writhe, hearing them moan. Their eyes rolling back in
their heads, chests heaving, skin flushing—it was the best natural high he’d
ever experienced, knowing he’d done that to them.

He wanted more, wanted to taste her. It was addictive.
She
was addictive.

Soon his efforts had the desired effect and Emelia’s body
tensed, her breathing grew heavier, her color heightened. She twisted her face
away from his, bit her own lip this time, and screwed her face up in concentration.

Then she came. Stunted groans sounded from her throat as she
attempted to prevent their escape. He plunged a finger into her core, reveling
in the hard gripping-and-releasing motion her muscles made around him. He
couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel around his cock. He was only human
after all.

She trembled and shook as she rode out her orgasm, and he
pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead before leaning his chin
on the top of her head as he cradled her.

The heaving of her chest finally slowed and she looked up at
him with a goofy smile on her face. “
Molto buono
. That was very good.
Grazie
.
Thank you.”

Ryan realized he was learning Italian and having his ego
stroked at the same time. “It was my pleasure,” he replied, truly meaning it.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

He helped her up, pretending not to notice as she jiggled to
get the crotch of her knickers back in the right place. As he handed Emelia her
bag, then picked up his own, he wondered what on Earth was going to happen next.
Would they simply part ways as though nothing had happened? Would she want to
see him again? Did she want to drag him back to her hotel and take things
further?

The questions swam around his mind in circles and he stayed
quiet, not wanting to push her into a decision one way or the other. As a
result, they stood there in awkward silence for several long seconds until she
sighed, reached into her bag and grabbed a pen. She took his hand and wrote her
number on it before kissing his cheek. “I’m here for another two weeks,” she
said, looking shy now. “If you want to see me again, just text or call me.”

Fearing the number would sweat off or he’d forget it was
there and wash his hands, he pulled his phone out and tapped the number in,
saving it under her name. Now it was safe and sound. When he looked back up,
she’d gone. He shook his head in disbelief. How could a girl go from being so
brazen that she’d chat a guy up and get herself some digital sex to being so
bashful she could barely talk to him, then run away? He wasn’t complaining, not
really, because she’d saved him the job of figuring out what to do next.

Shrugging, he put his phone away. He and Kristian hadn’t
decided how much longer they were going to stay in Rome, but he was confident
he’d have time to meet up with Emelia again. In fact he’d
make
time. He
wanted to spend some more time with her and her sweet curves, preferably naked
and in a bed. Or on a bed, or a floor. Whatever, as long as they were together
in a private place and free to do whatever they liked.

He checked his watch and saw he still had some time left to
explore the Forum, so he had another quick drink from his bottle then headed
out of the Vigna Barberiniand deeper into the complex, amazed by how
varied it was, by how it was tourist attraction and beauty spot rolled into
one. And apparently a really good place to pull chicks, make out with them and
play with their pussies. He’d definitely be coming back here.

He continued wandering for another couple of hours, taking
lots of photos and exchanging the occasional polite smile with the people he
passed. He checked the various places off his bucket list—Palatine Hill, the
Arch of Septimus Severus, Temple of Saturn, Arch of Titus, the House of the
Vestal Virgins and much more. He decided Romulus had picked a damn good place
to found a city, one that was definitely up there amongst Europe’s greatest and
most popular, and with good reason.

After a while, Ryan grew tired and stopped appreciating the
area so much, so he figured it was time to call it a day. He made his way
through the sprawling ruins in search of the exit. It took a while, but as soon
as he was out on the street again, his sense of direction took him to the Metro
station with no trouble at all.

Just before he headed underground, he sent Kristian a text.

Heading back now, knackered. Dinner?

Descending into the station, he quickly found where he
needed to be and headed back to his temporary home. His phone bleeped as soon
as he got back above ground, where his mobile signal returned.

Definitely. I’ll head over and save us a table. See you
in a few.

The thought crossed Ryan’s mind that perhaps they were being
a little dull using the same bar-restaurant so much, but then, why not? The
beer was good, the food was good and, most importantly, the prices were
excellent. It had clearly been designed to cater for the people staying in the
hostel, who were, in all reality, not flush with cash.

He rounded the corner into the street that housed the hostel
and their favorite eatery and saw Shanna and Taryn heading in the same
direction. He didn’t bother trying to get their attention—he’d catch up with
them in less than a minute.

Sure enough, by the time he got into the bar, the girls were
sitting with Kristian, already deep in conversation. A conversation that had
his friend leaning in close to the girls and fidgeting in his seat. He could
hardly wait to see what had gotten his friend so interested.

“Hey, all,” he said, approaching the table. The girls spun
around, then immediately looked relieved when they realized it was him. They
beckoned him to sit down. “What’s going on?” he asked, taking a seat.

Shanna moved her hand, revealing what was underneath. Ryan
frowned at the credit-card sized and shaped item, thinking perhaps the girls
had gone insane and pickpocketed someone.

“What’s that?”

The American girl pushed it closer and it was then he could
see the writing on it. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Shanna.

“We’re going home at the end of the week and we’ve got more
cash left than we were expecting, so we decided to blow it on a hotel room.
This is the key card.”

Taryn butted in eagerly. “A
private
hotel room. No
more sleeping in a room full of strangers, having to be well-behaved. Well,
sorta well-behaved.” She tipped Ryan a cheeky wink. “If you’re willing, guys,
we can do exactly what we like, all night long, until the end of the week.”

Ryan and Kristian exchanged a glance, then turned back to
the girls. “Sounds like a plan to us!”

Ryan’s brain was already filling with the sexy possibilities
and they, in turn, were making his cock fill with blood. He grinned widely and
grabbed the menu, looking for the biggest meal he could find. He was going to
need his energy—it was going to be a busy night.