chapter 3
Routing through my suitcase, I know I put them in here somewhere, throwing aside various clothes in search of my shorts and t-shirt. I had originally packed them to wear as pyjamas, but needs must; if I am having this dinner tonight, I’m going to have to go to the gym first. I know realistically even if I am in there all day it won’t make any immediate difference, but I’m hoping that the thought at least will boost my confidence a little.
Pulling on the faded cotton, polyester mix shorts and slightly stretched and out of shape t-shirt I eye myself in the mirror, no wonder I only wear these to bed. I pull the hem of the t-shirt to one side and tie it in a small knot, at least it hides just how askew it is; there is nothing I can do about the shorts however. Plus the only shoes I have are the holed, but comfy, old trainers I wore on the flight.
Pulling the hair band off my wrist I tug my hair back into a scruffy bun, then clip the straggling bits up out of the way. One last glance at the mirror, this will just have to do.
The gym is tiny, but has just about every machine you could need crammed into it. There are a few die-hard athletic types in there, pushing weights, with their sizeable muscles rippling under the strain. They pause only for a second as I walk by, each giving me their own questionable looks. Sorry boys, but I’ve got my eye on a bigger prize, I think to myself, smiling. It’s all about the mindset, so Caz keeps telling me; think confident, be confident!
Starting with the treadmill, I switch my ipod to a racy little dance mix and off we go.
Two hours later I emerge, sweating profusely, my hair now disobediently escaping the hair band in every direction, man I haven’t worked out that hard in years, if ever! Now it’s just back to my room for a quick shower then on to the Spa to get waxed to within an inch of my life. If only I had known yesterday that I would be going on this ‘date’ I wouldn’t have been so quick to poo-poo the waxing option on the Spa menu.
Turning the corner past the main foyer that leads to my building and I freeze. You have got to be kidding me, Carlos dead ahead, casually walking towards me next to what has to be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen; She’s all olive skinned, with perfectly styled, shiny black hair, flowing down over her shoulders, wearing a tight pencil skirt and killer heels which highlight her curves in all the right ways, with legs I couldn’t get even if I worked out every day!
There’s nowhere to run and I definitely can’t turn around now, I’ve already been spotted, shit, shit! OK just keep your head down and maybe he won’t recognise you, who am I kidding? Earth if you could just open up and swallow me now I will be forever in your debt, please? I whisper a silent prayer. Nope? Great, thanks!
He is less than 3metres away, just keep walking, just keep walking, “ah!” I screech as I stumble over my uncoordinated feet, only just managing to stay upright. Oh come on now! That is just not fair. Catching his eye I can see he is amused by my misfortune, little Miss Perfect sports a smirking grin, waving her goodbye to him as he stops in front of me on the path, she throws him a wink if sharing a private joke on my account.
“Ms. Mavers” he nods at me, still smiling as he takes in every last inch of my embarrassing appearance, “been taking advantage of the gym facilities I see, I must ask did you enjoy your trip?” he questions with a chuckle.
All I can manage is a tight smile at his humorous remark as my cheeks turn an unmistakable shade of scarlet. “I err….yes...well…yeah” is as close to a sentence as I can muster.
“I look forward to our dinner tonight, Seven wasn’t it?” it’s as though the more of a mess I become, the more cool and collected he is.
“Yes, Seven” I reply, still not able to maintain eye contact. Out of nowhere I see his hand reach out and clasp my own clammy one, bringing it up to meet his lips he plants an air light kiss on my knuckles, as my eyes finally meet his, it’s as though his gaze is searching my very soul. His green eye’s burning with an intensity I’ve never felt before. My mouth drops open and I can’t even blink for fear of him vanishing into thin air if I do, if this is some kind of dream I don’t want it to end.
With that he lowers my hand makes a slight bow and walks away. I am left stuck to the spot watching him continue down the path as if nothing has happened. As he reaches the corner of the foyer building he turns flashing me his superstar smile briefly, before continuing.
I hadn’t even noticed I had been holding my breath this whole time, letting it out triggers the feeling to slowly return to the rest of my body. I can’t deny this carnal, animal instinct, I want him and for some unknown reason I can’t begin to fathom, he seems to want me.
I’m running late, I had showered before the Spa, but I hadn’t factored in needing to shower again after to remove the last traces of sticky wax. My legs weren’t too bad, but the waxing has left great red welts across the skin of my under arms and bikini line, what was I thinking? I should have just shaved, seriously what do women see in this?
The ‘beauty’ therapist had given me some calming lotion to apply afterwards, so as soon as I’m out of the shower I lather it on the worst bits, leaving it to absorb as I use my new coconut body butter over everywhere else. It has a fine gold glitter in it which leaves a faint shimmer on your skin, which according to the tub, ‘delicately catches the light and gives your skin a warm glow’. I don’t know about that, but it does compliment the slight tan I have going on.
I pull on the best underwear I can find, which vaguely matches, how I wish I had the forethought to bring my (never previously worn) fancy lace ensemble. Caz bought it for me last Christmas in an attempt to spice up my love life after a particularly drunk, holiday time confession I made to her about how much it was lacking, it was consequently shoved in the back of my knicker drawer never to see the light of day again!
What I wouldn’t give for it now! Oh well, at least this bra is strapless and padded. Slipping on my pale green summer evening dress over the top, I adjust its spaghetti straps and pull the back of the bra up to hoist my cleavage to an acceptable level.
The dress is perfect, an old favourite of mine, it has a fitted silk slip in a slightly darker shade of green, that stops mid-thigh, with a looser, sheer fabric over-lay that stops at the edge of the slip on one side, but flows right down to the knee on the other side; it’s sexy, but classy while also able to cover a multitude of sins. Its low cut front draws attention to my now impressive breasts (albeit it slightly enhanced with the help of the padded bra).
Teamed with white strappy heels and a delicate diamond pendant necklace with matching earrings, I think I’ve pulled of glamorous, yet understated.
My hair is too wavy, but I don’t have time to straighten it as it’s already six forty and I haven’t even done my make-up yet. All I can do is pull it into a ponytail and stick in a white fabric flower clip to hide the hair band and add a little flourish. Just as I’m adjusting the clip and smoothing my unruly hair into place there is a knock at the door. No, no, he can’t be early, I’m not ready yet!
“Err just one minute” I shout out, right just throw on some mascara, you wanted understated, so that’s what it will have to be. One eye down “I’ll just be one minute” I shout re-iterating.
“Take your time, I’m early” comes the muffled reply.
OK, mascara rushed on, luckily without poking myself in the eye with it. A quick spray of perfume, wrists, cleavage, behind the ears and I’m as ready as I can be. One last look in the mirror, make up will do, dress not tucked into pants, good, hair passable, shoes on, I grab my clutch bag and head to the door.
“Ms. Mavers!” Carlos exclaims, his eyes opening wide as he looks me up and down, “you sure as hell scrub up well! You look ravishing!” I smirk, ecstatic at his reaction, if I wasn’t so weak at the knees right now I’d lean forward placing my fingers under his chin and push his gaping mouth shut, instead I settle for simply saying “please, call me Kate”.
“Sorry, Kate” he softly corrects himself, “are you ready to go?” he asks.
“As I’ll ever be” I beam back at him.
Carlos bends his arm and extends his elbow for me to link my arm around, I graciously oblige, lowering my eyes as I do. I don’t often wear heels so the support is more than welcome.
Leading me to the beach front he turns into the French bistro, ooh I love French Cuisine. The restaurant manager rushes over beaming, at which point Carlos address’s him in Spanish, with a quick nod he soon scarpers away again; looking up at Carlos and delicately raising my eyebrow, expectantly waiting for an explanation, he simply smiles mischievously back and says “come” pulling gently at my arm he leads us through the room, past the other diners and to a door with a clear sign on it warning ‘Staff only, No Entry’ I’m becoming ever more puzzled as we reach a stair well behind it.
Turning to me, but without saying a word, that grin still spread across his lips, he lets go of me and sweeps his arm out, signalling for me to continue up the stairs. Without his solid frame supporting me, I know I’m going to be wobbly, teetering upstairs in these shoes, so I gratefully grasp onto the hand rail on my right and endeavour to make my ascent look as elegant as possible. As he follows me, one step behind, he positions himself to my left and softly places his right hand on the small of my back.
The feeling is divine, I can safely say I prefer this kind of contact to the arm link; it’s much more seductive, but not so much as to cross over to the realms of sleaziness.
At the top of the stairs there is a fire door, what is he up to? Keeping his hand in place on my lower back he leans past me and pushes on the bar, easing it open with a loud creak. With a delicate push of encouragement from him, I step out onto the roof; the whole area is lit with tiny twinkling candles in glass jars and white fairy lights draped around the walls. In the centre stands a table, dressed in a white table cloth, decorated with petals scattered around the cutlery and an ice bucket housing what looks to be a bottle of champagne on the far side.
There is a panoramic view of the beach from up here, the waves lapping at the shore, under an orange sky as the sun starts its descent.
It is breath taking.
Turning to him, open mouthed I am awestruck and speechless, no one has ever done something so romantic for me, I didn’t think anyone actually did this kind of thing in real life?
“Do you like it?” he asks, seemingly genuinely concerned that I might not.
“Like? I love!” I say enthusiastically. His face lights up and taking me by the hand this time he leads me to the table, pulling out my seat for me. Taking his place across the table, we sit in silence, just gazing into each other’s eyes. In the candle light I can see little gold flecks adorning his green pupils; I’m not sure which is more captivating, his eyes or the view.
He’s wearing a black suit and white cotton shirt, but the collar has been left open as he has not got a tie. His black hair hangs naturally in loose ringlets, getting caught up occasionally by the ocean breeze. He has a broad jaw line and the skin on his face looks smooth and freshly shaven, I think I could stare at him forever.
I’m woken from my daydreaming as he reaches across and retrieves the champagne “Would you like a glass?” he offers.
“Yes please” I gush back at him as he begins to pour, filling the glass to the top, expertly controlling the bubbles.
“I hope you don’t mind but I advised the chef to prepare us something of his choosing. Alfredo is an excellent cook” he informs me.
“No that sounds wonderful, thank you” Thank God for that, I don’t speak French so I was worried that ordering was going to be a disaster and I would end up with snails and frogs legs!
As I take my first sip out of the crystal champagne flute, taking extra care so as not to spill any out over my face as I do so, the creak from the fire door announces the arrival of our starter. A fine Pâté with artichoke hearts and Melba Toast. I’m not a big fan of Pâté, so I am dubious to begin with, but it’s so light and is complimented perfectly by the artichoke, before I know it I’ve polished off the lot.
As I’m licking the crumbs from my fingers I hear Carlos’s boyish giggle “So you enjoyed that?” he asks in response to the glare I give him for laughing at me.
“Well yes I did as it goes” my face cracking into a smile by the last word. Smearing the last of his own Pâté onto a corner of toast and holding it between his thumb and index finger, he reaches across the table, stopping so it’s hovering just in front of my mouth. It’s too close to remove it with my hand, so he can only be expecting me to eat it out of his fingers; Whoa this is full on! Is this what dates are like now? I’ve barely even said two words to this man and yet I’m expected to be ready to lick something out of his hand? It’s only been thirty minutes since he picked me up, can I really pull off the confidence needed for this seductive manoeuvre?
Sensing my hesitation his face falls and he begins to retract the offer, but suddenly, without thinking, I grab his wrist, lean in and take it, making sure my lips encircle the tips of his fingers, then use my tongue to free the morsel, running it provocatively through his fingers at the same time. Letting go of his wrist and leaning back in my chair I give him my sweetest smile.
The glint in his eye returns immediately, he shakes his head in mock disbelief. “Thanks” I say as my shyness returns. I can’t believe I just did that!
The moment is broken too soon as the waiter returns and clears our plates. I take the opportunity to down as much of my drink as I can, bubbles permitting, at this rate I think I’m going to need all the courage I can get.
The main course appears shortly, chicken breast, stuffed with a wild mushroom puree and a creamy Dijon mustard sauce. I purposely slow down my eating, taking my time to savour each delicious bite, and hopefully look a little more ladylike, after practically inhaling the Pâté.
Between mouthfuls we make polite small talk, Carlos tells me he lives and works here at the hotel, I tell him about the advertising company I work for. I skim over briefly how I was married, but am now separated, leaving out most of the details. He does not divulge any further information about his past (or present) love life. We move to a more neutral conversation, traveling, we both would love to see the world, but both have had limited chances to, for varying reasons.
By the time the main courses are done I am on my forth flute of champagne and feeling pleasantly tipsy; Carlos tells me there is a local band playing in one of the bars in an hour and suggests we go along.
The sun has now set and I can see they have lit a number of lanterns that stretch the length of the beach, the fire reflects in the sea causing yellow glimmers to jump up and down on the waves, it looks so magical, “can we take a walk along the shore?” I ask dreamily, gazing at the view.
“Of course” he replies, taking my hand and promptly leading me back down stairs and out to the sand.
As we step off the firm path and onto the beach I am quickly unbalanced by my heels, Carlos grasps both of my forearms to steady me, then slowly begins to lower himself down, his hands sliding to my waist, so that he is kneeling in front of me. I watch him slip his hands over my hips, brushing tantalisingly close to my buttocks, then down my thighs, I am hypnotised by his touch. At my knees he puts a little pressure behind the left one, lifting my leg so that my foot rests on his bent knee and carefully removes my shoe, repeating the process with the other foot. Once he has finished he picks up my shoes and stands giving a triumphant “there!” as he takes my hand and strolls on, oblivious to my now quivering legs.
Carlos has an uncanny ability to turn almost anything into a double entendre, consequently in the short walk from the restaurant I find we are inevitably talking about sex. He has asked me if I am the type to initiate sex or not, laughing at his blatancy I reply “Err, I guess not, no. I’m more of an old fashioned kind of girl, I want a man who will open doors for me, carry heavy bags and take control in the bedroom!” we both fall about laughing, still giddy from the alcohol.
“I wasn’t aware ‘taking control in the bedroom’ was crucial to being old fashioned, but I’ll take your word for it” he says still laughing, “so, how is a guy to know when you want him to take control?” he asks, marginally more serious.
I can feel the atmosphere between us change, we are no longer talking hypothetically here. How do I play this? It’s clear to me that I want him, I’m a little tipsy which is far more preferable to being sober for such a monumental event; he has made a real effort to make this happen tonight, pulled out all the stops. But just the thought of him seeing me naked makes me feel sick. I can see the window of opportunity closing, it’s now or never, just make a decision.
I stop walking, as he takes another stride, the tug of my hand in his makes him realise I am no longer in step with him. Turning to face me he slips an arm round my waist and pulls me closer, waiting patiently for me to give this unknown sign for him to continue. I still have no idea what I want to do. Maybe if I insist on having the lights off and we stick to missionary style I could forget about my hang-ups just long enough to enjoy it?
I put my hands onto his chest, it feels solid under my caress; pushing up so I’m on tip toes, I angle my head back and lean into him. In an instant his hands are spreading, one to my shoulders and the other down to grasp my backside. As he leans down the rest of the way, closing the gap between us, our lips meet, softly at first, testing each-others techniques, then with unbridled passion; his tongue pushes through my lips, I welcome it by swirling my own around his. His grip tightens on my buttock, pulling me in so our bodies are flush against one another, so I can feel his erection straining against my groin. Running my hands up his arms I can feel his bulging biceps, finding his shoulders I follow the curve to his neck, pushing my fingers up into his hair and grabbing it tightly as I push my tongue into his mouth; my sexual appetite is well and truly awakened, I physically can’t get enough of him right now. Suddenly he is bending down, keeping his lips locked with mine, his hands find my thighs and without even trying he lifts me up so my face is now above his, pushing down on him.
Obligingly I wrap my legs around his waist and he lowers us to the sand, softly laying me down onto my back, his hands now free to roam. First he puts them either side of my face, cupping it while we continue our fiery kiss, then he begins to move his right hand, down my neck, to my shoulder and on to my collar bone which he traces across to the other side. I arch my back so that his hand slips down to my breasts, caressing them over my dress. Pushing my body up further, this time squeezing his sides between my legs and letting out a deep moan, thrusting my tongue into his mouth once more; he doesn’t need any more encouragement, hooking his finger round the straps of my dress and pulling them over my shoulders, I follow his lead and slip my hands up through them freeing my arms. In one quick movement he pushes the top of my dress and strapless bra down to my waist, breaking away from our kiss he leans back to admire the view.
“You are so beautiful” he murmurs as he runs the tips of his fingers across my breasts, teasing my nipples. Shifting his body down he starts to flick his tongue over one nipple, massaging it in circles and sucking it so it hardens in his mouth. The other he has between his fingers softly squeezing as he grasps my breast with the rest of his hand.
“Oh, yes” I whisper, I’m glad of the limited light on the beach, but beyond caring if anyone is around.
With my nipple still delectably in his mouth, he shifts his hand down my body; finding my leg still firmly wrapped round him, he slides his hand down my thigh, pushing the hem of my dress up as he goes. Moving his body to the side so opening up a space, I match his movement by lowering that leg to the sand and relaxing my knee, inviting him in. His fingers trace the line of my panties, skimming over the top; I’m writhing beneath him pushing my hips up to grind against his hand. Finally, pulling the elastic back at the top he slips his hand inside, mirroring my movements with slow, firm circles against my *oris.
The anticipation is infuriating, quickly running my hand down his arm until I meet his, covering it with my own I push his finger inside of me, “uhhhh” I moan loudly, the feeling making me shiver with delight.
“Ssshh” he warns, stilling his fingers while he takes a quick glance around ensuring we are not about to get spotted. Satisfied we are still alone he pushes now two fingers deep into me, stifling my noise with a passionate kiss. His fingers sliding in and out, twisting them round as he goes; I’m thrusting my hips against his hand eagerly, digging my nails into his back, “more” I manage to murmur into his kisses. He drives another finger inside me, not what I was going for, but I’m not complaining. As his thumb find my *oris I start to thrust harder against him, I recognise the buildup of tension and I crave its release. Grabbing his wrist I take control moving it faster, I can’t concentrate on kissing anymore so I throw my head back into the sand, Carlos moves back to my breasts instead, taking my nipple now with his teeth, biting down just hard enough to intensify the pleasure, I let go of his wrist, letting him continue what I started, as my fingers and toes scrunch up, I let my orgasm take hold, my mouth open in a silent scream. As the sensation dies down I’m left shaking, my cheeks flushed and a huge smile on my face. He doesn’t remove his fingers straight away, instead waiting until the muscles inside me stop clenching. Leaning down he plants a light kiss on my lips, “shall we take this somewhere a little more private?” he whispers to me.
Oh my, that wasn’t it?
Strolling back across the sand, his arm draped over my shoulders, I’m still grinning. I can feel sand wedged into every possible place, but I just don’t care. We are sharing a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the breaking waves and gulls flying overhead. In the distance, back at the resort, you can just about make out the faint tinkling of the band he had suggested we see tonight, so much for that!
As we reach the edge of the sand where it meets the path I stop “I’ll be needing my shoes back now” I suggest, nodding towards them hanging off his finger.
“Will you now?” he asks, trouble written all over his expression. With that he bends and scoops me into his arms.
“EEK!” I screech as my legs are swept out from under me. I throw my arms round his neck giggling, and plant a quick kiss on the end of his nose.
“Well lead the way then Mr…..Oh, Carlos, what’s your surname?” I ask suddenly embarrassed by my oversight, well on the plus side at least I got it in before we slept together!
“It’s Johnson.” He replies matter of factly, not breaking his stride.
“Johnson?” I quiz him, “that’s not very Mexican?”
“Mexican?” he almost shouts it, clearly taken aback, “you think I’m Mexican?”
“Well sort of, I couldn’t place your accent, but then you live and work here and speak the language fluently, so I don’t know….I guess I just assumed?” I say feeling really sheepish now; he’s not angry, but clearly bemused by my apparent naivety.
“Well I guess technically I ampart Mexican, as I was born here, but my great grandparents and grandparents were English and moved here some seventy years ago; my dad was the first generation to be born here and he married and American, my mother, and they had me. So if you want to be exact, I am 1/3 English, 1/3 American and 1/3 Mexican by chance of location only.” He explains it slowly as if he has never had to put it into words before; it makes me feel even more foolish, despite the fact that, by his own admission, I am technically correct!
“Well that’s a bit of a let down” I say cheerily, “I’d never had a Mexican before, I thought I was going to get to cross it off the list tonight” I give him a playful pout, his mouth drops open and he stops in his tracks.
“Well Ms. Mavers, aren’t you coming out of your shell? And as you now know, I am 1/3 Mexican, is that percentage not on your list?” he asks sarcastically, but chuckling at his own joke.
“No Senor Johnson, I have not extended my list to include percentages, but I guess I could make an exception, just this once.” I flirt.
“Well in that case I guess I should give you the full Mexican experience, Senorita, sólo por esta vez” he murmurs softly into my ears, his lips brushing sensually against my earlobes.
I’m relieved he is still holding me as I’m sure my legs would have given out on me after that little comment, I don’t even know what it means, but the way he says it is just so sexy!
“Well what are you waiting for?” I ask out right “Take me to bed!”
I’m busily nuzzling his neck when we start ascending stairs, looking around and it hits me, these are my stairs, leading to my room, my second incorrect assumption of the night; that we would be going back to his room.
“Err, this is my room” I state.
“Very astute Kaitlin, nothing gets past you does it” he winks at me, depositing me on the cool stone doorstep.
Slipping my key out of my clutch bag I hold my finger up at him “you will just have to give me one minute OK?” I begin to bargain, my room is a mess, clothes and shoes and underwear strewn about the place, yesterdays bikini drying on the balcony.
He raises his eyebrow quizzically, but shrugs acceptance, as I open the door an inch and squeeze myself through, “You’ve got one minute Kaitlin then I’m coming in after you” he calls jokingly after me.
Legging it round the room at lightening speed, I grab every item of offending clothing and stray shoe, chucking it all into the suitcase, which in turn gets dragged across the floor, then lugged into the wardrobe. I’m grateful that housekeeping have been and made the bed, a quick glance in the bathroom confirms that all the towels have been replaced and hung neatly on the rails. Excellent. One last look around the room, its acceptable; just as I reach the door the handle starts turning, I have just enough time to pose with hands on hips, head cocked to one side and an unimpressed look on my face, before the door swings open and Carlos pounces in. Seeing my façade he gives another shrug “I gave you one and a half minutes, that’s an extra thirty seconds longer than we agreed, you should count yourself lucky.” He states in way of an excuse.
“You give me one minute, thirty seconds and then think it’s acceptable to ‘cum inside’?” I shake my head trying not to smirk, “if that’s all your offering I think I best cut my loses now” I say a giggle slipping out at the end.
“Don’t I get anything for my performance on the beach?” he whines.
Placing my hand on my chin, I cock my head over to one side, tilting my eyes up imitating deep thought “hmmm?” I mutter, as soon as the sound escapes my lips he attacks, tickling my sides and somehow lifting me at the same time; squealing at the assault I try and wriggle free, but he is too strong and merciless with his fingers, so that I can’t manage to do anything but laugh.
As soon as we hit the bed he stops. Stroking my hair with his fingers, staring into my eyes as our breathing steadies, I’m completely lost in him; being with him like this makes it feel as though the whole world is at a standstill.
I can already feel myself falling for him, hard. I need to rein these feelings in, just because he’s the first man to show me any attention for a few years, doesn’t make this more than just a fling.
I place my finger on his chin and run it down the centre of his neck to the top of his chest until it rests, hooked into the first secured button of his shirt, tugging gently down on it. Without a word he sits up throwing his jacket off onto the floor and pulling his shirt off over his head in one smooth motion.
His body is perfect, his olive toned skin is tanned and flawless, taught over his defined muscles, a small smattering of fine dark hair over the centre of his chest, but otherwise so soft and indulging. Putting my hands out I stroke his exposed torso, running my fingers along every faultless line. I sit up so I can kiss every inch, following those same lines with my tongue, his skin tastes deliciously salty. As I continue I’m aware of his breathing getting heavier, abruptly his strong hands grasp my shoulders and push me back onto the bed roughly; greedily he grabs the hem of my dress, yanking it up to my waist, then clutches at each side of my pants. Hastily, before he can remove them I place my hands over his, “um can you turn the lights off?” I ask tentatively, all too aware of the bright, unforgiving light that bathes us.
For a second he looks disappointed, but swiftly shakes it off “sure” he says jumping from the bed. At the switch, his hand moves across to the dimmer instead, lowering the light to a faint glow, “how about that?” he asks cautiously.
“That will do nicely” I say, not 100% sure, but not wanting to entirely disenchant him with my insecurities.
They say in all the magazines that this kind of light is meant to be flattering anyway, let’s hope so as with me, there is a hell of a lot to flatter!
He returns to the bed, replacing his hands in their previous position, but pausing, searching my eyes for approval before he starts; I flash him a smile and adjust my hips up a fraction to aid him stripping me.
Excruciatingly slowly he tugs my pants down over my thighs, not taking his eyes off me, even for a second. As he glides them down over my calves he plants kisses on the inside of my knee; once my pants are fully off and thrown over the side of the bed, his kisses start to climb higher up my legs, first a kiss to the right inner thigh, then a matching one to the left, the next one rising slightly higher again. Each kiss tickles but in a gloriously erotic way, I don’t want him to stop, but I don’t want him to reach where he’s heading either. I know I’m as prepared physically as I can get, but mentally, am I ready for a man to be that intimate with me?
“Uuhhh” it’s too late, he’s there, slowly dipping his tongue in and out of my lips, spinning it around my *oris until my toes curl, then plunging back down. Before I know it I’m gyrating against his mouth, controlling the path he makes with his tongue. I’m finding that the trick is not thinking about where his face is and just letting go and enjoying the sensation, that magnificent, outstanding sensation; he’s playing now, changing the speed and velocity of his tongues advances, stopping to suck my sweet spot until I cry out with ecstasy and then softly biting my lips before bringing his tongue back into play with a vengeance.
This is sweet, sweet, agony, my fingers clench in his hair, rotating my hips frantically now, I’m aware of my orgasm mounting and I want it badly. Pulling my knee’s up further so that I’m pushing down just on the tips of my toes, to tilt my pelvis into his merciless mouth.
“Oh yes, just like that” I’m crying out, I’m so close, just as my body is tensing he pushes two fingers inside of me, the surprise bringing my orgasm on in an intense wave of pleasure. By the time I recover and open my eyes I find him, naked, lying on top of me.
“I love the way you shiver after an orgasm” he purrs down at me, “ready for another?” my eyes widen in awe, then I break into a grin, nodding enthusiastically.
He re-positions himself, taking his already waiting erection in hand and slips it carefully inside me. He is well endowed, even after all the warming up I’ve been gifted, I still feel impossibly tight around the size of him; he takes it slow easing in bit by bit, until I’m taking every last inch of him, the intensity of it making me gasp.
“Are you ok?” he whispers, holding perfectly still until my reply.
“Yes, I’m pretty great as it goes” I breathe back at him, lifting my legs so my ankles lock together at the small of his back.
With gentle sways he rocks in and out, running kisses up and down my neck as he goes, slipping his tongue around my ear lobe and sucking it through his lips, the breath from his nose both irritating and addictive at the same time.
His lips find mine again, welcoming his tongue into my mouth, it tastes strangely metallic; realising just what I’m tasting only ignites my passion further.
My hands explore his body, up his arms to his shoulders, then over his back, as he continues his rhythmic thrusts; his hands now under my shoulder blades and spreading up to cradle the back of my neck, lifting it up so that his soft lips reach every part of it. Letting my head tip back I close my eyes and take in every last sense of his touch, the effect is mesmerising.
He is gradually building momentum, pushing up on his arms for even deeper penetration; He lifts one arm, placing his hand behind my knee, my legs still wrapped firmly around him, tugging upwards, I release my locked ankles and let him move it up until my knee hooks over his shoulder, repeating the move with my other leg.
Oh that’s it, that’s the spot, “how’s that baby?” he asks, this time continuing to slowly grind into me.
“That’s amazing” I say digging my fingers into his arms.
“Yeah? Do you like that?” he says, the pace quickening in anticipation.
“Oh yes, I like that” I manage, he leans down closer, sandwiching my legs between our bodies, getting faster all the time.
Here it comes again, “oh yes” I cry out, my knees clinging to his shoulders.
“Oh yes baby” he growls relentlessly pounding in to me, “are you going to cum?” he asks.
I can barely comprehend anything at this stage, let alone string a sentence together, “yes, YES!” is all that I can verbalise.
Carlos lets out a low moan as my body trembles below him, caught up in the aftermath of my orgasm, thrusting in to me once, twice, three times more before his body relaxes again, I’m vaguely aware that he has finished, but I’m too busy basking in my post-orgasm glow to care much.
Collapsing in a heap of tangled limbs, we lay together panting, the room now feeling far too hot; reaching his arm across me to the bedside table he picks up a remote and with one click we are showered with a refreshing breeze from the air-con.
“Ahhhh” we both sigh in unison, promptly giggling at our symmetry.
As sweaty as I feel, I’m happy that he did not remove my dress entirely, allowing me now to subtly re-arrange it to cover my modesty.
He does not comment, but instead waits till I’ve finished then wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me in tight, nuzzling the back of my neck through my matted hair.
We stay like this drifting in and out of a light sleep, it’s late, darkness still shrouds the world outside the window; after a while I let myself succumb to my dreams, floating through a make believe world where Carlos and I live happily ever after.
I wake early, the once relieving air-con now creating an unwelcome chill down my spine. Rolling on to my back I stretch out, my hands do not come into contact with anything; jolting up, my eyes spring open, suddenly fully awake, with a fleeting look I confirm the room is empty, my heart sinks.
So it was just a one time thing, a rush of emotions hit me, relief, sadness, rejection, how many more men are going to abandon me? It’s my own stupid fault, I should have kept my emotions in check, of course this was all it was going to be. A holiday romance, the clues in the title!
Lying back down with a dejecting thud, something crumples under my head, I salvage the offending item; a piece of paper with the hotels heading, swiped from the notebook next to the phone by the looks of it, but more importantly he has written on it -
‘Kate, thanks for a magical evening. Sorry I had to go, it was early so I didn’t want to wake you.
I have an idea for something fun for us to do tonight, give me a call later if your interested……
Carlos x x x’
My heart sings! Yes! He wants another date, it’s not over before it’s begun. In my mind I start replaying all the best bits of last night, his smile, his strong arms, his sultry kisses, the laughs and jokes we shared, all played out in a dreamy montage. I feel giddy, rolling about the bed; clutching his latest note to my chest, I can’t keep still with so much excitement sending the blood coursing round my veins. I leap out of bed, jumping up and down on the spot squealing out my exhilaration.
Sitting on the chair next to the vanity table, then immediately standing again, I need to go somewhere, do something, shout from the roof tops, anything to dispel this raging energy.
First and foremost though, I’m starving; I’m just picking up the phone to call for room service when there’s a knock at the door. My heart leaps into my mouth, he’s come back?? I literally skip to the door, flinging it open…..but it’s just a waiter with a food trolley. Wait, now they’re psychic as well!? Seriously the service here is out of this world!
As the waiter wheels it in I catch a glimpse of a bright yellow flower laying on top of an envelope, it must be Carlos, I’m desperate to get to it, so much so I pretty much man-handle the waiter out the door, thanking him enthusiastically as I do, to soften the blow of having the door slammed in his face.
Snatching up the envelope and tearing it open eagerly, he’s back to using the gold embossed card, it really is beautiful, I think as I run my fingers over its border.
‘Thought you might be hungry after last night, I hope you find the trolley to your liking?
Speak soon,
Carlos x x x’
I love his notes, I’ve already started stashing them in the back of the book I bought with me, which I’m now sure I will never read, instead it has become a treasure trove of love letters; well OK not quite love letters to be fair, how about lovely notes? Yes, my treasure trove of lovely notes!
Putting this one alongside the other two I turn my attention back to the trolley, now emitting mouth-watering smells into the room.
This is weird; it’s an exact copy of what I had for breakfast that first morning, even down to the pieces of fruit, flavour of the yogurt and how many rashers of bacon I had!
I hadn’t really thought about it before, but there is a bit of a creepy side to Carlos; he clearly knew or found out which room I was in and my name, he thought I was a ‘Mrs’ but he went ahead and pursued me anyway and then there’s the date. Amazing as it was, the effort he went to was massively over the top, the roof top, the candles, the meal prepared specially by a top chef? All of that is excusable, he works here so finding out who I am would have been relatively easy and Mrs or not, I am notably here on my own, so I guess I’m fair game in that sense. The roof top was a bit overkill, but maybe he is just a romantic and how do I know that it’s not set up like that all the time? It could be just as simple as flicking on a light switch and lighting a few candles and you’re good to go?
But the breakfast is definitely a bit much, I didn’t even see him there that day, clearly he saw me though. A deep blush spreads up my neck to my cheeks, oh god, he saw me pig out, I was so sure I’d gotten away with it. So far he has really seen me at my worst, how can he still be interested?
I can’t help but feel I might be over thinking this.
Yes he’s hot (way too hot), and yes he’s interested in me (for reasons unknown), and yes, I may be blinded by his hotness (against his tendencies to be a little bit of a stalker), but all in all is it worth it? Worst case scenario, I can go back home and never hear from him again.
One flickering image of last night crosses my mind and yes, I decide it’s more than worth it!
I wait as long as I can before grabbing the phone and dialling Caz, I’ve got to tell someone, it starts to ring; it’s midday back home and I know Caz likes to take a quick nap around then so she’s not too tired for the evening shift she does at the local pub most nights, ooops! I’m just about to hang-up thinking I am being a bit rude calling when I know she will be trying to sleep, when Phil answers, “Hi, Kate?” he questions, presumably by the look of the number on his display.
“Yes sorry Phil, I didn’t realise what time it was” I apologise profusely, lying through my teeth.
“No don’t worry I’m up with the kids anyway, it’s Caz is having her nap, so she’s not up yet, but I’ll just go wake her for you” he replies casually, I’m halfway through protesting against that idea when I realise he has already gone to do it.
Two minutes pass before I can hear the receiver being picked up again, “Hey Kate, what’s up” she is forcing the liveliness into her voice, but the stubbornness of sleep is still clearly evident.
“Hi, I’m so sorry, I tried to tell Phil not to wake you” I have lowered my voice in a vane attempt not to wake her further.
“No, don’t worry, I kept Phil up late last night watching a documentary on penguins, so he’s been desperate to find an excuse to ruin my sleep!” she laughs, oh the joys of married life.
“Oh good, because I wanted to tell you about last night” I start, immediately interrupted by a suddenly wide awake Caz “Last night?? What happened last night? Did you go on the date? How did it go? Did you sleep with him?”
The usual firing squad of questions you can expect from an excited Caz.
I give her every dirty little detail, starting from where we left off last night. By the end of it she is ecstatic, even more so than me.
“Oh my god, that sounds like a fairy tale! So romantic, you must send me a picture, he sounds like a dream-boat, but it’s surely too good to be true though? Are you sure your not just making all this up?” sceptical as ever, I make sure my reply sounds overly shocked and appalled at her doubt “Thanks Caz, I’m so glad to hear you have so much faith in me!”
“Sorry it’s just you know, your so self conscious and this is all so, I don’t know, so…..naughty. I’m so happy for you, seriously Kate, this is just what you needed. Just promise me something” her voice coming down from it’s high on that last request, “don’t get too involved OK? It is great, but it is what it is, I don’t want you coming back more heart broken than you left”
I know what she means, I can’t deny those familiar butterflies I get at the mere mention of his name and the utter loss I felt thirty minutes ago when I thought it was over, then it hits me, I’m already in too deep.
“No of course, come on Caz, it’s just a holiday thing, I’m just enjoying myself” I bluff, hoping to hell she buys it, I’ve only just admitted it to myself, I don’t want to have to explain these confusing feelings to Caz as well.
Ending the call, I know I’ve got some serious thinking to do.