He winked his eye, then ran up the stairs to the booth, while Prano led Isla and I through the crowd. I’m not sure if I walked, glided, or floated to our table, but I was in heaven, as well as in shock. This was the first time I found a Caucasian man attractive, and felt chemistry so powerful with a stranger from first sight.
Men of different persuasions made passes at me before, but I never flirted back. Never gave them a chance, or a second look, but this time I engaged. A smoldering, brown-eyed babe, with skin the color of buttermilk had my stomach doing pirouettes. And I liked it.
Before taking a seat, I slipped my cell number to Prano, and asked him to give it to Mash. As my head was in the clouds, I could hear Isla telling the girls about our thirty-minute disappearance. I was in a zone, off somewhere with my thoughts, fascinating about my encounter. The kiss. The feel of his lips. The way his eyes shone. The way I wanted to ditch my friends, force my way back into VIP, and taste him once more.
Moments later Shannon shoved me, waking me from my trance. They were all staring at me, waiting for me to chime in and validate Isla’s rambling. I had a lot to say, yet speechless at the same time. I sat there smiling at them like those masks you see at Mardi Gras, dodging their questions, and staring past them at the tinted glass on the booth. I wondered if he was heavy into his job, or looking at me too. “Earth to Nadia. Tony is waiting for us at the door,” said Shannon, nudging me to rise as I took one last look at the stage.
I was hounded on the way back to the hotel. The girls begged me for details, but I wasn’t ready to discuss it. What was there to discuss? A gorgeous man asked to meet me, accidentally kissed me, and gave me his number. I was still processing it all myself—My intrigue and arousal of the man.
Honestly, I didn’t know how to communicate what I was feeling or thinking, and lucky for me Khai was too tired to badger me once we made it to our room. Before falling asleep she playfully said, “Don’t think you are off the hook. I want answers in the morning,” and dozed off within seconds.
Lying across my bed, I giggled and smiled to myself like a simpleton. I needed to shower the club scent off of my skin, but couldn’t pull myself out of my daydream to do so. Sleep was calling me, but my thoughts were on repeat of the accidental kiss that moved me, and then my phone buzzed.
Prano delivered and gave Mash my number who texted, ‘I’d like to see you before I get on the road. Can I stop by?’ I didn’t want to say yes and seem desperate. I also didn’t want to say no, because I wanted to see him as well. I was curious to talk to him in a quiet setting, but I hesitated for a long time not knowing how to respond. The next message popped up, ‘I hope I didn’t wake you.’
I held the phone close to my chest, while my mind raced on how to reply. I was in London, on a destination wedding vacation with love in the air, and a new experience on my heels. Filled with uncertainty and giddiness, I decided I would take full advantage of whatever came my way, live outside of my comfort zone and replied, ‘The Mandarin in Hyde Park.’
I took the shortest shower of my life, and threw on a pair of jeans and a fitted tee, washed off my make-up, brushed my teeth, and moisturized my face so he could see me in my natural state. I applied some lip balm in case our lips touched again, and pulled my hair back into a ponytail as the next message came through, ‘I’m in the lobby.’
As the elevator doors closed I became uneasy. ‘I should have made him wait to see me,’ I thought, but it was too late now. I was already on the ground floor, and there he was, standing near the front desk waiting for me.
I walked over to his leering face, exuded with confidence, and plopped in front of him. Twisting and turning about flirtatiously, as the bass in his voice nearly made my knees buckle, “My crew is out front giving me hell for coming over here,” he said grinning with his head down. “I couldn’t stop talking about you. Even if it’s only for a few minutes, I had to see your face.”
“I’m flattered,” I said beaming incessantly.
A short silence occurred while we stared at each other, smiling in between eye contact, waiting for the other to speak.
“I must admit you make me nervous. Do I make you nervous?” he asked.
“A little,” I answered.
“That must mean something. I hope we find out what,” he said in a serious tone, and seductive look in his eyes.
“Yeah, I hope so too.”
“Forgive me for staring. I’m normally cool. It’s something about you…I can’t take my eyes off of you.”
“You know you didn’t have to come all the way over here. I could have sent you a picture.”
“It wouldn’t have been the same.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t kiss a picture,” he said and stole my lips.
He pecked them delicately, once with his eyes open looking into mine. I returned the gesture and closed my eyes, tasting a trace of liquor, which mixed well with the sweetness of his tongue as we locked lips. We lingered, long enough to hold hands, and make our first official kiss perfect. And it was, perfection from two strangers.
“Thaw was exactly how I imagined it,” he respired.
I unlocked my hands from around his. Our index fingers remained intertwined, “I’m glad you came to see me.”
“So am I. I know what I’ll be dreaming about on the bus. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow,” he said, letting go of my fingers as he backed away to the sound of the horn blowing for him outside.
“I look forward to it. Good night.”
He waved, high-stepping to the exit, while I walked backwards towards the elevator. “I’ve changed my mind. Send me a picture,” he shouted across the empty lobby, captivating me with his perfectly lined teeth until the steel doors closed between us.
Chapter Three
Maximus
En route to the festival, every corner of the bus had something different going. Some slept, read, or sat quietly to themselves, while others made the drive entertaining. Telling jokes, playing card games, passing bottles of hooch, and making bets of sporting events back home.
The sweetest of dreams filled my head as I napped, and when I woke I admired the country roadside of the terrain. At times, I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the window, grinning about my late-night visit, and planning what to say when I saw him. Three hours later, we arrived in Glastonbury. The butterflies returned to my stomach, fluttering in circles, and my chested tightened in knots. The feeling was familiar, yet scary. I hadn’t felt those flutters in years, and to feel them so quickly about a man I knew nothing about, threw me for a loop.
The field was packed with free-spirited party goers, resembling the crowd at Coachella. The entrance line was so long, I assumed we would make it inside when the shows were over for the day. To distract myself from the impatience growing inside, I checked my emails until we were admitted, then called Mash to let him know I was there. My call went straight to voicemail, and I was torn if I should call again, fearing I was interrupting, or worse, being blown off.
The day was quickly slipping away, from the long line to enter the parking lot, the hours waiting in line to get inside, then the half hour walk to the main stage. A few of us didn’t care to watch the concert from far away, or on the mega screens. Instead we split into pairs, doing as we pleased until ten o’clock.
Khai partnered with me to explore the grounds, but not because of shared interest. She was eager to meet the mystery man who had me smiling all morning. We watched a few artists perform we had never heard of, had our horoscopes read for fun, and undoubtedly had a contact high from the marijuana swarming the gardens.
Hours later, I grew anxious to be in Mash’s company. Khai and I footed the fields, until we found the tent Mash was scheduled to perform in. My palms grew sweaty as I texted him, ‘I’m outside.’ He quickly responded seconds later, ‘Come to the back of the tent by the loading truck.’
We entered through the slim drapery next to
a generator. Eyes from every direction were upon us, as we stood in front of two huge security guards. “Nadia!” shouted a voice to our right. “They are with us!” Prano yelled to the guards who let us pass. The backstage crowd stared at us as we walked over to the seating area, as if they could tell we were foreigners without hearing us speak. A bad habit I had since childhood reappeared while working through the crowd. I began mocking a horrible impression of a British accent, saying “Pardon me,” as I swept through the onlookers.
He kissed my cheek and my chest pounded fast and hard. My eyes twitched from nervousness, and as his hand wrapped around my waist, I nearly melted from his touch. The way he looked at me, made me feel desirable. I feared I could lose control with him. Be wild and carefree without remorse, which was unlike me.
To break his spell, I ruined the moment by blurting out, “What is your real name?”
“Maximus Sharper,” he answered, leading me to a sofa behind a curtain.
‘Mmm, a strong name.’ My left leg crossed his right leg when we sat, squeezed tightly in the corner of the couch, leaving plenty of space for Khai and Prano.
“And your surname is?” he asked.
“Melton.”
“Melton? I don’t think I know any Melton’s,” he said clutching onto my hand placed on my thigh, running circles on my leg with his other.
Khai glanced from the corner of her eyes, then raised her eyebrows at me allowing him to fondle my skin. I smirked, letting her know I saw her reaction, then carried on with my conversation, “So, did you dream about me?”
“I dreamt about our kiss. Is it too soon for another one?”
“No sir.”
He pulled me in close by my shirt, and lightly swept his fingers around the back of my neck. Planting his luscious lips against mine, I gulped in his air as he took in mine, unapologetic for our public display of affection. Like a schoolgirl, I began counting the seconds not knowing when to pull back. This kiss was hotter and longer than the one from the morning. Heat sparked between us, as neither he nor I showed signs of letting up. My knees were now in his lap, and both of my arms wrapped around him. Khai interrupted by clearing her throat a few times, “I’m Khai by the way.”
I wiped my lipstick from his lips, and giggled. We turned towards my good friend, and I formally introduced her to the man of the hour. “I haven’t seen you smile like this in a long time,” said Khai. “All is forgiven. Nice to meet you. Prano and I are going to give you two some privacy, but not too much,” she joked.
“I promise I will behave,” said Mash holding up his hands.
When Prano and Khai disappeared behind the curtain, Mash and I shared a laughable lip embrace, then cooled things down. We conversed with the twenty minutes of free time he had remaining before his show. Our words connected like a game of scrabble. Our energy flowed in sync. The chemistry between us was explosive, and magic felt present when I was near him. Time flew by so fast, it seemed like we had been talking for only a few minutes instead of twenty. The show coordinator called for him, and his lips touched once more. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night?” he asked.
Looking into his eyes, I envisioned being pressed beneath him with expressions of joy on my face. I could look into his eyes for days, nights even, and listen to him talk for hours. His accent drove me wild, and the five o’clock shadow filling in on his face, reeled me further into his abyss. The longer I looked at him, the wilder my thoughts ran, “What time should I be ready?”
“Pick you up at seven.”
For a moment, I contemplated hanging back until his set was complete, but we travel in packs for safety, and I couldn’t abandon Khai. Doing so would also make me look like a stage five clinger. I argued with myself, ‘He didn’t ask you to hang back. Let him take you on a date and get wined and dined.’
He walked me to the side of the stage, where I joined Khai and Prano. We watched him work for a while, then trekked back to the meeting point. Bypassing concerts in session, parties, tents and kiosks throughout the fairgrounds, we spent just as much time walking as we did watching shows. Large crowds accosted us, carrying us away in their flock. We held hands to prevent being separated, as painted faces screaming and circling about, frightened us while trapped. The increasing size and weirdness of the crowd grew every second. Slightly worried, I drew in closer to Khai, and fought our way out of the drunken horde, safely returning to the meeting point.
The rest of our party regrouped, and Tony drove us back to the city. After a long flight, a night out, a catnap, a long drive, and the long day at the festival, I was exhausted. I slept on the bus, and throughout Sunday morning. Even after skipping breakfast and brunch, and spending the afternoon in bed, I was still physically tired, but found energy to get ready for my date with Mr. Sharper.
I didn’t trust myself around him. I was participating in public displays of affection, and kissing him like I had known him longer than three days. The more I realized how reckless I was behaving, I was glad Khai and I chose to share room expenses. If I had a room to myself, I felt certain both of my feet would have been off of the floor before our date.
Preparing for this date became a strategic exercise. The dress I originally planned on wearing was overly, sexually enticing. Without a clue of where I was being taken, I opted to wear a blue one-piece jumpsuit instead. It had an open neckline which accentuated my healthy bosom, then loosened as it left my curves down to the hem.
Since this was a special occasion, I accessorized with my custom Billie Hilliard bracelet cuffs, but only wore three inch strappy heels for comfort. I placed my flat shoes in my oversized purse, and when Khai wasn’t looking, added my toothbrush, a pair of panties, some leggings, and my make-up bag.
Maximus knocked on the door, and my heart fluttered. I felt like a teenage girl going on her first date, and lost all of my cool knowing he was on the other side of the door. Before answering, I made a mental note to be as quiet as possible, and not say anything stupid. I opened the door, “Damn,” I mumbled. “I’m sorry,” he said. His light brown eyes glistened as he greeted me with a single red rose and kiss on the cheek. I responded, “Huh, oh nothing. I was talking to myself,” already muttering like an idiot.
My mind betrayed me and let my tongue speak what I was thinking. I couldn’t help myself. The man was fine as hell, and handsome as ever. We hugged, long enough for me to sniff the orange notes of his cologne, which blended well with his natural scent.
“Shall we?” he asked, taking me by the arm.
I clung to his manliness, admiring the sharp way he was dressed. His garments looked tailored. Fitted black slacks and a black pullover, with a light blue and black oxford shirt peeking at the collar. I held on to him so tight, I knew he could tell I didn’t want to let go when the elevator arrived. I was already smitten, picturing myself stroking his freshly trimmed beard, while looking up at him on the bed fucking me slow. Thank God Khai was there to block me from spreading wide eagle.
She liked Mash from the short time she spent with him, but still didn’t trust the fact we were not on home soil. She made me promise to ping her my location every hour. Being married to a cop, she felt forced to share the safety tips Brian, her husband, taught her. But I wasn’t worried. Foolish, maybe. Lustful, indeed. But not worried.
Mr. Sharper demonstrated what I never experienced in a grown man. He escorted me around his city in a vintage town car, made eye contact with me when speaking, placed his hand in the small of my back frequently, and held a full conversation while explaining the significance of well-known tourist attractions.
At dinner, he pulled out my chair, stood when I left the table, and didn’t laugh as I wanted to try fish and chips at the upscale establishment. He ordered it as an appetizer after insisting I try his favorite dish, and I admired how he took charge, just as he did our first kiss.
Afraid I was going to humiliate myself, or say something stupid again, I kept quiet at dinner, creating an awkward vibe.
He began to grow uncomfortable, and I couldn’t pretend any longer, so I admitted what I was doing in an effort to lighten the mood. He laughed at my honesty and confessed, he thought he had done something to offend me which caused me to withdraw.
The tension left the table and our vibe returned to normal, as I began talking his head off. Telling him about my failed career attempts, my childhood dream of becoming a famous dancer, and how I now hoped to become a successful writer. He listened to me ramble while stuffing my face in between, then I revealed what was really on my mind. I told him he was the first white guy I ever kissed, and went on a date with.
He sat pensively after my revelation, and I grew worried I had blown it by being too direct. I suffered as he sat in silence, looking at his near empty plate, fumbling his fingers against the white tablecloth. I looked away as there was no eye contact between us, then he spoke.
“I wanted to carefully craft what I am about to say. I’m flattered to be the first white guy you have spent time with. If I may ask, what took you so long?”
“I. I…” choking on my words.
“I’m just joking. But in all seriousness, I would like to know why you gave me a chance?”
“It seems strange saying this, but there is something about you I can’t explain. I wish I could articulate what I want to say better, but for some reason I can’t. It’s like there are no words to describe it, but it exists. I probably sound crazy right now.”
An Affair Abroad Page 3