I spruced up my make-up, threw on the flats, and off we went. A short twenty-minute ride further into the country, led us into an open-air field. ‘Oh, Dear God! Please don’t let him think he is about to fly me around in that thing. I’m already impressed! I’m already impressed!’ Fright was written on my face, when a short elderly man appeared from the rear of a personal Beechcraft plane. “Park over there for me,” he shouted and tipped his hat.
I dragged getting out of the car, regretting I hadn’t spoken my mind. As Mash opened my door, the gentleman walked over and shook hands with him, then extended them to me. While helping me out of the car he greeted, “Nice to meet you.”
“Nadia,” I answered.
“Nadia, meet Mr. Hunt, a longtime friend of the family.”
“And a pilot I hope,” I seriously teased.
“For thirty years now,” Mr. Hunt asserted.
“Suddenly, I’m not so nervous anymore.”
Mr. Hunt laughed, then escorted me over to the plane, while Mash gathered bags he had stashed in the trunk. The steps lowered and we boarded, receiving a full tutorial on safety and emergency information, and what if scenarios. I gripped the edge of my seat at takeoff, counting the minutes until we were settled in the air.
Searching for a distraction, I pestered Mash to tell me where we were going, but he remained tight lipped. He dug into the bags and pulled out a Sudoku book, pencils, a mystery novel he hadn’t finished, and a bag of chips—offering me each of the items, refusing to answer my question.
The plane leveled in the sky moments later, and I released the arm rests from my clutch. Mash gave me a cocky once over, then tapped my hand, “We’ll be there in a few hours, so sit tight and enjoy the scenery.” I stared at him without blinking for a few seconds, attempting to read his mind. His poker face was stern as he circled words in the book, and so I gave up and did as he suggested. I sat back, pulled my earpiece from my purse, and listened to my calm playlist. ‘I bet he’s taking me to Paris to meet my friends.’
An hour into the flight I grew bored and anxious. I leaned over and helped solve a few puzzles, read some of his book, then asked him to give me a list of the songs he produced. We shared our playlists from our phones, and he complimented my arrangements and selections, “You have open ears. I’ve never seen a playlist like this before. You went from Kings of Leon to Nina Simone, Coldplay, OutKast, Prince, Edie Brickell, Fiona and Jay-Z in your shuffle file.”
“You’ll love my Texas rap on there too,” I added.
“Why is it called Texas rap, and not just rap?”
“Because of how it sounds, and how it flows. They call it chopped and screwed. Stick with me kid, you’ll learn something new,” I teased.
He laughed at my joke, then I played him a few songs from Houston artists. His reaction was priceless, having never heard a record chopped and screwed before. I looked on as he took it all in, and I imagined he was contemplating new ideas from the way his lips mouthed words to himself. When he removed the headset, I pried into business, “Do you care to discuss the photo albums?” He turned his head and scoffed, “I was wondering when you’d bring that up.”
“So, private school?”
“Yes. My mother is Italian and my father is full Brit. My dad raised me after they divorced. He came from wealth and believed my mother couldn’t make me become a man, plus he had control of the money, so you know how that goes. He wanted me to be the next big thing. Forcing me to try my hand in everything he liked. Soccer, Lacrosse, Tennis, Rugby, Polo, Boxing.”
‘That explains the body.’
“Did you like any of those sports?”
“I was into boxing—up until I was knocked out. I continued training, but stopped sparring. Anyway, my interests didn’t matter to my father. I was always attracted to music, but he didn’t approve. I had to sneak around in clubs, and learn how to work turntables, speakers and mixing boards. When I went off to university, I made a name for myself on campus.”
“And look at you now. He must be proud.”
“He wasn’t around long enough to see me get to this level. He passed away.”
“Sorry to hear that. My dad passed away three years ago. It’s an experience you’ll never get over.”
“Losing someone you love, when the relationship was full of turmoil, is even worse. But you can’t change a person, so it is what it is.”
“There it is!” Mr. Hunt yelled.
I wobbled to the closest window, prepared to see the Eiffel Tower from the best view possible. During our quiet time, I put two and two together. The croissant was a clue, and I braced myself for the big reveal. “What the!” I screeched, looking at miles and miles of turquoise water, leading the way to the magical rock, Es Vedra, in the distance. “You brought me to see the rock! I’m in Ibiza! The Baleares Islands of Spain! I can’t fucking believe it! Excuse my language. Holy shit! I didn’t think I was going to see this place!” I exclaimed.
“You were so close, and the way your face lit up talking about it, I figured I owed it to you, since you know. You missed Paris.”
“I thought you were taking me to Paris to be with my friends, hence the breakfast croissant, but this is so much better! I can’t believe you did this for me.”
A black line dripped from the corner of my eye. I fought to hold my tears, but one resisted to flow back into my glands, and exposed itself. “Come here,” Mash said reaching for me. I returned to my seat, “Buckle up sweetheart, we are about to land,” said Mr. Hunt.
Carried away with emotion, I became putty sitting next to Mash. We kissed, necked, caressed and rubbed, becoming aroused at an inopportune time. The decline disturbed our moment, “I can never repay you,” I expressed.
“Your excitement was repayment enough,” he said.
My feet touched the soil of Spain. My skin felt the breath of the calm water surrounding Es Vedra. My eyes magnified a landscape of beauty. My nose inhaled the scent of the crisp trees spritzed in the air, and without making it to the beach, I was already in love with the place.
Four hours were spared to tour, and explore the historical city. For starters, we shopped at the many outposts, where I found an array of organic oils and beauty products. Some of the brands were familiar, and the others I came to know. After buying more than enough goodies, we taxied to the white sandy beach of Cala d’Hort, and dined at Restaurante Es Boldado. The mysterious rock Es Vedra sat beautifully in the view, making me anxious to take a stroll near the water before high tide.
As the sand on the beach invaded my sandals, I soaked in the energy of the magnetic rock I had been dreaming to visit. Mash stood at my side, watching me take it all in. Meditating with my eyes closed. Listening to the waves crash and burn. Its presence was majestic and commanding, and everything I hoped it would be. Calming yet thought provoking of its existence, mystifying and legendary, wondrous and extraordinary.
We wandered until we reached the famous tower, Torre des Savinar. It was rumored to be the best place to witness the sunset, and from what we experienced I could concur. The skyline melded from sapphire to bloodshot, as the sun slowly declined into the water, captivating us both.
Serenity filled me, as Mash was draped around me from behind, gripping my waist and stealing kisses on my neck. The burning ball in the navy sky took its course to the other side of the world, and a familiar feeling draped my chest. I was overcome with emotion, overwhelmed from the perfect past couple of days, and overjoyed I was in the company of a man who made me feel wanted after years of losing myself. “Do you feel that?” I asked.
“I do,” he answered.
“I can’t explain it. I…”
“Me too.”
I couldn’t say it. I wanted to, but I was being cautious, and mildly childish not wanting to be the first to say it as if it mattered. ‘Why would it matter who said it first? If it’s real, it’s real.’ He planted his saccharine lips on mine while the breeze circled us with its chil
l.
“It’s time to go home,” he said.
“I like the way that sounds,” I smiled.
“What do you like about it?”
“The home part.”
‘Ugh why couldn’t I say it?’
****************************************
Mr. Hunt delivered us safely to the London countryside. The hours crept by slowly, making my urge to physically thank Mash unbearable. Once we landed, I waited for him in the car as he settled business with his longtime friend, yearning to show my gratitude. Watching his lips move as he talked, I grew profoundly aroused, slipping my panties off, and placing them in my jacket pocket before he made it to the car.
As he drove us back to his place, I brushed my hand in his hair, and stared at him handling the curves of the road. When the path straightened, I took my panties out of my pocket, and dropped them in his lap. “When did you…?” he asked.
“Pull over,” I said unzipping his pants.
The car jerked to the side of a dirt path, near bushes leading to the woods. His wood stood at attention, as I slid his trousers down a few inches, and marveled at it, rubbing it in the dim moonlight escaping through the clouds. It was the color of roasted red pepper hummus, longer than average, and wide like a mushroom at the top. ‘No wonder I’m swooning.’
In excitement, he neglected to put the gear in park, and the car rolled a few feet. After shifting it correctly, he turned off the engine, then I grabbed him by the face and kissed him, short but forcefully. Pulling away I purred, “Un uh. Allow me,” while shoving him back against the seat, then I dove.
He huffed at the touch of my jaws, wet and slippery, cupping him whole inside of my mouth. He moaned and called out, “Nadia,” as I teased him at the tip with my tongue, then held him at the roof of my mouth, swirling my tongue in circles. His moans deepened from the oral massage as I sped up the pace, up and down nonstop until he jolted. He locked onto my hair as I lowered completely down around him, controlling my reflex, then slowly releasing him from my clutch.
With tamed strokes, I rubbed him while taking a quick breather, then returned for one more taste while both hands pleasured him, as if I was grinding pepper. “I love you,” he whispered indolently. I amplified my kisses for a few seconds more, then reduced to slow soft licks, triggering his body to slump over in excitement.
I rose to face him, lifted my skirt, and sprung on top of him, screaming from painful delight, “Ih-Ih,” I sighed gripping onto the headrest. He thrusted his pole upward, “You look so fucking beautiful tonight,” he said, holding me in place just below my back.
I regained my composure and matched his rhythm, slow deep strokes kneading my walls side to side. He reached for my face and I cradled his hand against my shoulder, while he ran his other hand down my back. Escaping my hold, he placed both hands behind my shoulders and we locked eyes as he gripped them tightly. He stared at me with pure passion in his eyes and I grew weak. “I love you too,” I whirred.
“Say it again,” he begged.
“I love you.”
“I loved you first,” he implored.
His deep voice in its sultry state affected me uncontrollably. Harder and faster my hips grinded, while his hands spread my cheeks east and west. Sweat soaked between us, and our heat fogged the windows on the driver side of the car. “Ah!” Mash bellowed, holding me in place, as I rested my head on his shoulder, savoring the moment.
Disheveled and gratified, I returned to my seat and the engine revved. Mash exhaled deeply, “Let’s try this again. I need a smoke,” then drove us to the house. Neither of us spoke for the twenty-minute ride, and I grew worried my forwardness was too much, too soon. I attempted to end the silent streak, and announced I was going to hop in the shower. “You know where the towels are,” he said and headed outside. I watched him hit a joint sitting pensively by the pool, then left him there as I couldn’t watch anymore.
I had showered, put on another one of his t-shirts, looked at my friend’s pictures online, and nearly nodded off waiting for him to come to bed. An hour later he showered, and sat up scrolling through his phone, far away on his side. While waiting for him to speak, I drove myself insane with worry. ‘Say anything. Kill this silence please. What did I do to mess this up? He said he loved me for Christ’s sake. Today was too perfect to end like this.’
The past taught me not to react, and be patient, so I did. I was confused and wanted to cry, but I refrained out of pride. My back remained facing him, but I could feel his eyes upon me.
“Nadia.”
“Yes.”
“About today.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to…”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do when you leave on Sunday.”
“What?” I was in shock to hear him say such words.
“I’ve been thinking. Sunday is fast approaching and I don’t want you to leave.”
“You do realize you haven’t said a word to me in over an hour, and I have been over here trying to figure out what I did to ruin this perfect day we shared.”
“I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. It wasn’t my intent. I was just trying to come up with ways this could work for us.”
“And.”
“I just told you. I don’t want you to leave. Today was one of the best days I’ve had in a long, long time.”
“Me too. How about we do as you said. Let’s not think about Sunday.”
A simple slip of the tongue, and expression of rage, over an hour of silence could have ruined everything. His confession stunned me, more than his profession of love. He said it. I said it. But did we mean it? We were somewhere on the borderline of love and lust, and having been addicted to someone physically before, raised the question of did I truly know how I was feeling.
I fell fast, but I fell nonetheless. The past seventy-two hours felt surreal. Love was here, looking me in the face, showing me what it was like to have it in my grasp, and I didn’t know what to do with it.
Chapter Five
Hospitality
Travel began to wear on my body, and enigmatic pleasure added to my fatigue. Knowing he was concerned about a future with me eased my mind, and allowed me to relax in his home, and in his care. I slept past midday, and probably would have slept longer if I had placed my phone on silent. Multiple phone calls back to back disturbed my rest. I had found a comfortable spot in the middle of the bed, and once you lose such a place there’s no getting it back. I rolled over and checked my log, curious about the urgency of calls ringing nonstop. All of them belonging to Taylor.
I lied there with the phone in my hand, preparing myself for a conversation, I knew was going to be one-sided. I took a deep breath and returned her call, regretting it the moment I pressed connect. “Hello Stranger,” she answered. I could hear rustling in the background, confirming she wasn’t alone, and had placed me speaker. I took another deep breath, preparing myself for one of her performances.
“Stranger?” I frowned.
“I haven’t seen you since Saturday. We were supposed to be enjoying this trip together, and you have run off with some random white boy with your nose wide open. What’s going on with you?”
“Whoa,” I said not happy with her word choice or tone, “Let’s back this train up. I’m not with a boy, I’m with a man. You didn’t see me before I left on Sunday, because we were all taking it easy.”
“Nadia, you missed going to Paris.”
“I told you I preferred going to Ibiza over Paris remember? And going to Paris was optional. Why are you making a big deal about this? Do you need me for something?”
“I just can’t believe you chose to be laid up with a guy you just met, instead of going to Paris with your girls.”
“I wasn’t laid up yesterday.”
“Then do tell. What did you do?”
“I went to Spain.”
Taylor scoffed and laughed in her wicked way, mumbling wi
th the phone muffled by her hand. A commotion of noise ensued when I heard her faintly say in the background, “This bitch just said she went to Spain yesterday.”
The voices of Khai, Shannon, and Isla became clear when Khai took over the conversation, “Nadia, everything is cool. What Taylor is failing to communicate, is she feels you have forgotten why we are here. But don’t worry, I think it’s just a bridal moment.” Taylor shouted in the distance, “I’m not having a bridal moment! She is supposed to be here!”
“Excuse me ladies,” Mash interjected, “Taylor, I told Nadia I wanted to meet the bride and groom, so would you and your mate have dinner with us tonight at my house?”
“You should go,” Khai whispered.
The line grew silent. I rolled my eyes looking at Mash, waiting for Taylor’s theatrical performance. “Sir, thank you for the very nice offer. Mash, is it?” she asked knowing the answer to her question.
“Just say yes already. You know you want to,” I interposed causing her to become flustered. She huffed, “Well I guess my answer is yes then.”
“I’ll text you the address. See you at seven,” I quickly added and ended the call.
*************************************
A pool table sat where a dinner table belonged. A highly critical and emotional guest was coming over, and dinner was to be served by my hands. With limited hours to prepare, the market run extended to multiple store runs, in search of foldout tables and chairs, a tablecloth, candles, vases, kitchenware and fresh flowers.
An Affair Abroad Page 6