Page 66 of Prosecco with My Professor
“Babe,” Jade begins. “You’re my best friend. We just lived together for a month. I know you better than I know anyone else in my life—sorry, ladies.”
Tessa smirks, and Sara waves it off.
Jade leans into the camera, pressing her palms together in supplication. “Do you think that I would release you unprepared into the world of fucking? Knowledge is power, and I’ve spent our whole friendship arming you with the biggest weapons in my arsenal: feel good about yourself, don’t forget to laugh, ask for what you want, be open to experimenting, don’t do anything you aren’t comfortable with, tight and wet are compliments of the patriarchy, always get your orgasm first?—”
“Okay, okay,” I say, laughing and holding my hands up in defeat. “You’re right. The sex will probably be the best I’ve ever had, too, and hopefully, it’ll be good for him. I just wish you had, like, a secret weapon for me.”
Jade peers off and to the right side of the camera, tapping her chin. “Well, there is one thing you could do that would probably blow his mind. If he’s up for it.”
“What?” I lean in, curiosity getting the better of me. I know the things Jade likes—light bondage, hair pulling, spanking—but I don’t really know what she has in mind.
Sara and Tessa don’t seem to know either, and they’ve both leaned in further.
“It requires a bit of prep work, and the guy has to be pretty open-minded about it, but…”
“Oh, my god.”I said it about a million times on our drive to the countryside, and I’m saying it again from the terrace of Santo’s villa. He’s still calling it a house, but it’s a villa—terra cotta tiles, earthy tones inside and outside, and a gorgeous view of the surrounding vineyards. Since we left right after class, it’s dusk, and while the sun might still be above the horizon, it’s sunk behind the hills that shadow the valleys of the landscape.
I should help—the car door slams shut from the other side of the house, and I know Santo is getting my bag for me, but I can’t peel my eyes from the Cyprus trees and rolling plains. He’s also getting Zola situated since we brought her for the weekend, so she doesn’t have to be alone.
I take some pictures. I want to send them to my kids, but I don’t know how to explain that I’m out of town on a romantic weekend with anyone, let alone my professor. If one of them was doing this with a professor, I would fly home to open a giant can of angry momma bear ass on them.
Hypocritical, maybe. But despite Santo’s position at the school, I can’t see what we’re doing as wrong, at least not when I’m around him. My kids are still developing; they’re still young enough to be learning hard lessons and making mistakes. I’m older and wiser (I like to think), and so is Santo. He’s so responsible—for that matter, I usually am too—and a naive part of me thinks that this isn’t a big deal.
Currently, that part in my head sounds like Jade, which is ironic because she’s the least naive person I know.
I send the pictures to our group chat instead. Tessa immediately responds with a heart-eyes emoji. Sara’s probably teaching back in Austin, but a few minutes later, Jade texts back.
Jade
Eat, sleep, BANG.
Are you ready to blow his mind?
I bite my lip. I haven’t asked Santo about my plans yet, though I came prepared. And I’ve read about a dozen articles Jade sent me.
But we’re not starting with that; at least, I hope not. If Santo is totally grossed out by the idea when I ask him on Sunday, then we can call it quits early and head back to the city.
And that will be that.
A throat clears behind me, and I turn to see Santo stepping out onto the terrace. He’s got two glasses of sparkling wine, and he holds one out to me. “Prosecco,” he tells me.
“Thank you,” I say, taking the glass from him. “For this and for bringing me here. It’s so beautiful.”
He shrugs modestly. “It’s better in the summer. More lush and vibrant, though I enjoy the quiet of the winter here.” He holds his flute up to me. “Saluti.”
“Saluti,” I echo and gently touch my glass to his.
The wine is bubbly and crisp, tickling my nose as I sip. “How long have you owned this place?”
“Oh, let me see…eighteen—no, nineteen years now. My father suggested I buy a place away from the city, and I liked the idea. I didn’t use it much until I started teaching. Just the summer holiday, usually, but I always brought work with me.”
The summer holiday, I’ve learned, is when many Europeans take the month of August off. When I was in Madrid with Jade, we spent a week in Majorca, though it was crowded and hot, and Jade often had to speak with her American counterparts back in the States who did not have the month of August off.
“Well, no work this weekend, right?”
“No, all fun.” Santo snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him. “All…pleasure.” He whispered the last word against my cheek.
I wrap my free arm around his neck as his mouth softens and travels down the side of my face to my neck. A gasp escapes my lips as he plants an open-mouth kiss on my pulse point.
