Up for Love in London

by Willow. Bonaire

  Perhaps he’s been busy with Christmas preparations, like I have. I’m starting to think I made the right choice to be away this year, though I will miss the “calm before the storm” on Christmas Eve at my parent’s house. There were many years when I had no choice but to fly over the holidays that I learned to celebrate wherever and whenever. My colleagues became my family, sharing homemade cookies, decorating the airplane and even exchanging small presents.

  I wonder if Charles will like the gift I’ve chosen for him? I love shopping for people and pride myself on always finding something special. Deciding what to buy for a man who has everything was a bit challenging. I settled on a silver pen from the onboard duty free shop. A bit last minute I know, but I did bring wrapping paper and a bow from home.

  When I finally approach the front desk, there’s a note from Charles and a keycard to a suite on the executive floor. I’m thrilled and relieved and mentally give myself a high-five. At least I hope it was mental, as the front desk staff whispers and casts quick glances at me. I wait till the rest of the crew takes elevators to their rooms and I ride alone to the penthouse.

  The hallways are as beautifully designed as on the 12th floor but more so - more real flowers, more art, more antiques. My hands tremble with excitement as I insert the key card into PH 1. I don’t think Charles will be waiting – he’s too much of a gentleman to do that to a jetlagged flight attendant without at least a warning - but my heart pounds wildly.

  I push the door open and catch my breath in awe. This suite is even more stunning than the last. I step inside and the heavy door quietly clicks shut behind me. A bouquet of hand-tied white roses rest on a Regency demi-lune table along with a basket of fruit – all exotic and out-of-season delicacies, including cherries, rambutans and guava. Beside them, two white china plates and cutlery wrapped in crisp linen napkins. The fridge is stocked with bottled water, both still and sparkling, and white wine and champagne. A box of hand-made chocolate truffles sits on the console. I’m overjoyed. Surely these details demonstrate Charles’ feelings for me.

  There’s also a large flat screen TV over the gas fireplace. The curtains are open, perhaps to showcase the spectacular outlook from the top floor. Though it’s a grey and misty morning, the view to the park is as splendid as ever.

  I spin around the room and my exhaustion dissipates. Unpacking my dress is my first priority – I don’t want it to look wrinkled. Though I have a fabulous wardrobe, it was hard to select an outfit for tonight. Charles is so meticulous and so handsome. I almost feel like I don’t deserve to be seen in public with him.

  I open the mirrored double closet doors and find my gorgeous red dress on a hanger. How could I have forgotten his promise of this gift? I’m so thrilled, I try it on even before showering. It fits like the proverbial glove and Charles has even added a pair of shoes – nude heels from LK Bennett, of course. They’re my size – how did he know? I wish I had remembered to pack a small handbag and I should have brought a better coat, but my uniform coat will have to do tonight. It’s a good thing I have a nice pashmina I can wrap around my shoulders for warmth when we’re out. I hate to even take the dress off, but I know that the lack of sleep will soon catch up with me.

  I may as well wrap his gift now. I examine the pen again. It’s sleek, stylish and expensive looking, just like Charles. It is too much or not enough? Jet lag and a need to sleep urges me not to second-guess my choice and I fold one delicate sheet of indigo and silver origami paper around it, tack the edges with clear tape and press a small silver bow on top.

  The bathtub in the executive suite is deep and I fill it with warm water, pouring a generous amount of rose-scented bath oil. I turn on the radio, roll up a thick towel for behind my head and gratefully sink into the heat and fragrance. The piped-in music reminds me of a serene spa. I could soak all day but I want to rest for my evening with Charles.

  Thinking about him makes my pulse race and I allow myself a little pleasure when I stand up to rinse off, moving the hand-held shower spray slowly over my breasts, stomach and between my thighs. I wonder what tonight will bring, passion for sure but perhaps more than that. After all, it is Christmas Eve. And he’s chosen to spend it with me. That says a lot, doesn’t it?

  For a moment, I let myself think of his family, about whom I know nothing. I didn’t take Olivia’s advice and Google them. But his parents, siblings and other relatives surely must enjoy his company at the holiday. I expect he’ll see them tomorrow, but tonight he’s all mine.

  I slip into a soft terry robe and the nicest hotel slippers I’ve ever seen. Both are substantial and elegant, discretely monogrammed with the hotel crest. I’m feeling relaxed and drowsy. In the bedroom, a single white rose blooms on the table with a note “See you at six, Charles.”

  I wish we could all be together on this special night, me, my family and Charles. Thinking about the possibility makes me smile. I slip easily into dreamland and wonder if the solution to jet lag is really as simple as a posh suite in a five-star hotel.

  CHAPTER 7 ~ His Christmas Secret

  I had set the alarm but I waken earlier, my internal clock being more reliable. Or perhaps it’s just the anticipation of seeing Charles again. I’m as excited as a little kid waiting for Santa. I shower quickly, just to wash my hair. I’d like to go for a quick walk before we meet – even if it’s only around the block, to knock the fog from my brain and get some natural colour into my cheeks.

  After my hair is dried and flat-ironed, I touch up my manicure and apply my makeup. I tuck my cell phone, key card and a few pounds into my pocket, in case I want to buy a snack. It’s 4:45 and dusk is already settling in. In the lobby, a few crews from other bases have gathered around the bar. I’m tempted to stop and chat but I know I’ll be sidetracked so I sneak out through the hotel’s side door.

  I pull my hood up and quickly hike the two blocks to the High Street for a granola bar and can of Red Bull – the flight attendant’s breakfast, as Richard likes to say.

  The streets are almost bare. It’s too late for last-minute shopping as most stores are already closed. But the Christmas lights remain on, adding a faintly melancholy feeling. I take a deep, cleansing breath and the air feels good in my lungs.

  The Greek restaurant isn’t open yet, but the smell of garlic and grilled meat wafts outside. Inside, a rainbow of Christmas lights drape across the ceiling and around the windows. The tables are covered with checkered blue and white linens and a few are pushed together for the crews. Normally, I’d be happy to join them but tonight I have other plans.

  I slip into the hotel again and walk up the first flight of stairs, to avoid bumping into anyone, and take the elevator to my suite.

  After draping my coat over a dining room chair, I flick on the fireplace, as easy as using the remote TV changer and beam. I could easily live like this. I strip and change into my new red dress. It’s so perfectly fitted, I don’t want to ruin the line with underwear. To complete the look, I step into the shoes, apply my lipstick and wait.

  ~

  The park is now hidden by the blackness of night. In the distance, lights flicker on in splendid red brick homes. It’s 6:10 and my stomach is really grumbling. I check my cell phone – again, and pick up the hotel phone – again, to see if it’s working They both are.

  Where is Charles? He wouldn’t go to all this trouble just to stand me up. I know he’s only ten minutes late but as my insecurities kick in, I need to relax.

  I inhale deeply a few times, and then open the fridge door. The Chablis looks inviting, so I uncork it and pour myself a large glass. The aroma is exquisite, all grass and pale fruit, and the liquid slips down my throat like silk.

  I’ve just poured my second glass, shoes kicked off when I hear a rap at the door.

  “Darling, it’s me, Charles.”

  At last! “Hello, I’ll be right there.” I squeeze into my shoes and am about to apply fresh lipstick when the door opens. I should have assumed he’d have his own key.
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  “I’m so sorry I’m late,” and he kisses me gently on my cheek, before taking my hand and standing back to look at me.

  “Absolutely gorgeous as ever. And you make the dress look stunningly beautiful as I knew you would.”

  “Thank you,” I reply modestly and immediately forget to be angry.

  He walks to the closet, shrugs off his coat and jacket and hangs them up. I can see he’s been here before, though I suppose that makes sense – it is his hotel, after all. I was expecting more of a romantic greeting, in light of our last encounter. He seems tense, or maybe he’s just tired. Perhaps he’s had a busy week.

  He peels off his tie and tosses it on the couch then picks up the wine bottle. “Chablis, perfect. Mind if I join you?” He pours himself a large glass.

  I twirl my glass before answering, “Certainly. I’m a bit hungry though – silly me, I haven’t eaten yet.”

  “Well, why should you? I did promise you dinner tonight. Cheers, darling.” We clink glasses and finally share a long, thrilling kiss. “Now let me call room service.”

  “Room service!” I blink back my amazement, stand and walk to the windows, still holding my drink. Charles follows me, and placing both hands on my shoulders, nuzzles into my neck. “You smell deliciously yummy.”

  I wonder if it’s too early in the relationship to pout. His kisses make me tingle and the scent of his cologne brings the memories of our first lovemaking flashing back. I turn to face him with a tiny frown. “I thought we were going out for dinner.”

  He lifts my chin with one finger, looking directly at me. His eyes glint like fiery blue sapphires and his gorgeous mouth curves into a smile. “I never said we’d go out for dinner Lauren, so don’t look so disappointed. It’s Christmas Eve, how many fine restaurants do you think are open tonight? Not many, I can assure you. And I paid the chef extra to stay late and prepare a special meal just for you, for us.”

  Now I feel really bad, until he kisses me on the lips, softly, firmly. My mouth is too busy to apologize but I’m sure he knows I’m okay with staying in. “The room certainly is lovely,” I say, when we finally break away. “It’s almost a shame to leave…”

  Charles glances at his watch and leads me to the sofa. “I’ll ring now and dinner should be here whenever we like. I’ll ask them to send the hors d’oeuvres first.”

  I snuggle into his shoulder, safe in his comfortable arms as he places the order. He kisses me on the forehead, then uses the remote to adjust the fireplace so it makes crackly burning log sounds. The scene is set as he turns on a sexy jazz station and puts his feet up on the coffee table.

  We cuddle like this for a while, his arm draped over my bare shoulder as he runs his fingers through my hair. I put my hand on his thigh and turn to kiss him. Our lips meet and the passion from our last escapade rises again. His lips are tasty and warm and his hands strong as he caresses my shoulder, neck and breasts. My nipples harden beneath his touch but my stomach is also grumbling.

  We both laugh and at the same time, a knock announce the arrival of room service. If the young waiter noticed the bulge in Charles’ pants when he opened the door, he was too polite to stare. He also averted his eyes from my perky bosom. He probably senses that he should drop the food and leave, but he still has to set the table. Charles offers directions.

  “We’ll have this course on the coffee table and the rest in the dining room. I’ll ring again when we’re ready.”

  “As you wish, sir.” The waiter deftly removes the remote control and magazines from the table before laying a white napkin and depositing the tray.

  He then clears the dining room table. He spreads a large linen table cloth over it and lights two taper candles in crystal holders before moving the bouquet back onto the centre.

  Charles shakes his hand and slips him a generous tip which the waiter discreetly tucks into his pocket. He leaves, closing the door behind him Charles is already beside me on the sofa.

  “Let’s see what magic Chef has created for us,” and he lifts the silver dome. The platter looks delicious, an array of tapas almost too beautiful to eat. Chilli tiger prawns, lemon-baked mussels, herbed leek and potato tortilla, tomato bread with thin slices of serrano ham and as if that wasn’t enough, smoked chicken skewers with garlic mayonnaise. Charles makes a selection and offers it to me before filling his own plate.

  The food is welcome and I feel like gulping it all at once but it’s so scrumptious I want to savour every morsel. “Christmas in Spain,” Charles says.

  In between bites of foods and sips of Chablis, we nibble at each other. He then pulls me toward the window, where we embrace and admire the view. Snow is falling softly under the yellow street lamps and a light dusting appears on the evergreens in the park.

  He puts his arms around me and his lips are soft and insistent. He starts kissing my mouth, then his lips travel down my throat, around the back of my neck. I quiver with delight, my neck is my secret hot spot and Charles lingers just long enough to make my body crave more than kisses.

  He brushes my hair aside and reaches for the zipper on my dress, pulling it down slowly and deliberately, kissing my back as he does. His fingers gently edge the straps off my shoulders and the dress slips to the floor. I’m naked, in front of Charles, in front of the window. His eyes tell me he’s pleased with what he sees. I’m enjoying the moment too.

  Charles looks at me in a way that makes me feel more beautiful and desired than any man before him ever has. There’s an adoring tenderness in his gaze and a fiery passion as well. When he cups my breasts in his hands, massaging my nipples with his thumbs, I feel a tingling rush of heat that travels straight to between my thighs. I’m so transported by his touch, I forget my resentment at dining in.

  “Lauren, you’re exquisite. I want you more than anything else in the world.” He kisses me softly on my mouth.

  “Charles, I want you too.”

  As he carries me to the bedroom, his crisp shirt rubs against my skin and reminds me of my nakedness. He places me on the edge of the bed and sits beside me, stroking my face and my hair. I had planned to slowly undress him though now I can hardly wait to feel him inside me. He leans forward, places his hands around my waist and nuzzles my breasts.

  I unbutton his shirt, remove the cufflinks and place them on the night table. I release his belt and tug off his trousers. In the soft glow from the bedside lamps, his body is as amazing as I knew it would be. I run my hands down his hard chest to the waistband of his shorts and a low moan escapes his lips. “Lauren, you’re making me crazy,” he says. He strips off the rest of his clothes and kisses me hard and fast. His blue eyes blaze as he lowers me onto the bed.

  Our lovemaking is more leisurely this time. He lies beside me, one arm around my shoulder. His mouth grazes my cheek before moving to my neck. His warm hand cups my breast, gently tweaking the nipple before sliding down my belly and between my legs. I’m enjoying the sensations immensely when his fingers start to explore the heat that’s building inside me. Once again, I’m a bit suspicious of his lovemaking expertise, until I realize he’s responding to my clues – a sigh, a slight shift of my torso, the bend of my leg.

  I bring his face to mine but after one long, satisfying kiss, he pulls away and his lips follow the path south, nibbling on a nipple, before leaving a trail of electrifying kisses on my stomach. I’m thrilled and nervous as he gently pushes my legs apart and burrows in between. I can feel his hot breath on my thighs and his tongue, teasing playfully until I can no longer wait.

  “Please,” I murmur. Though my body language already shows how much my body aches to feel him stroking inside me, he continues using his tongue and mouth until I explode in a string of long, rolling peaks.

  This time, when I pull him to me, he quickly obliges, burrowing his face in my neck and his firm cock into my wet heat. As we move deeply and intently together in the huge hotel bed, I have time to enjoy his warm, smooth skin, bask in the strength of his arms and savour again his unique ci
trus and leather scent. He leans back and holds my gaze, his pupils dilated so that his eyes are thin rings of midnight blue. His dark brows are drawn and I sense he’s close to the edge – I know I am again, too. I press my cheek against his and he whispers, “I’m waiting for you.”

  My heart flips and I grab his fine derriere, adjusting his pace to suit my needs, and bringing us both to a crashing climax, me first and him soon after.

  We stretch out across the gigantic mattress, bodies locked, catching our breath. He looks at me and smiles, tracing a finger across my lips. “That certainly builds up an appetite. Shall we order the rest of our dinner now?”

  I’m having a hard time thinking about food after a session like that, but Charles is already on the phone. “It will be here in 30 minutes. I’m going to shower, darling – care to join me?”

  How could I resist? I pin my hair onto of my head and we both step into the spacious stall. As we suds each other from top to toes, passions rise again and we indulge in a quickie –my hands pressed against the marble wall as he grabs my hips and enters from behind me. Now thoroughly spent, we towel each other off before stepping out of the stall.

  We barely have time to don the fluffy hotel robes when the phone rings – dinner is on the way.

  “Should I wear my dress?” I gaze into the bathroom mirror, with Charles beside me and think what a handsome couple we make.

  He brushes a stray lock from my forehead, cups my chin and kisses me gently. “No, let’s dine as we are. It’s much more decadent.” He rakes a hand through his damp hair before escorting me to the dining room.

  The waiter wheels in a delightful meal, simple and perfectly suited to the festive occasion. Steamed lobster, herbed rice and tiny green peas, red white and green. The table is set, candles lit, Champagne cork popped and once again, we’re alone.