Eternity (8 page)

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 clitoris.

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 clitoris 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 a
m
par
t
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.