Ava

I'm sitting here watching him as he speaks to someone on the phone. His driver no doubt and I am nervous and excited both at the same time. I'm wondering what on earth I am doing agreeing to this dinner date. And I am also worried what might happen after dinner. Will I allow him to give me a chaste kiss or will I take us to the first base. I haven't dated not properly since before I met Mark and that was when I was nineteen. So you see it's been over five years. I am seriously out of practice.

Has time moved on so quickly that I'm out of touch with dating? I wonder if I should quickly Google modern day dating. I mean are the bases even the same? Do they have the same meaning? Only nowadays the world seems to be a bit sex obsessed and well I am a healthy woman and I certainly give my vibrator some action, but with a man so soon after Mark. Is it right? Is it normal? None of this is normal to me and to be perfectly honest, I feel exactly as I did on my first date all those years ago. 

My palms are slightly damp from nerves. We've not even arrived to a restaurant yet and I am already sick with worry about the evening. Here's the thing. I fancy him. I don't want to. I really want to dislike Sebastian. I want to find him ugly and off-putting. Then of course I wouldn't even be sitting here in a corner waiting for him to come back to me. Perhaps I ought to go back to my room or run out of here and escape. Only that won't work because he is sort of right by the entrance to the hotel. And... well he knows what room I am staying in and I can only imagine he would come and knock on my door to check I'm alright. 

Now I am thinking I shouldn't have been quite so brave because I feel like a bundle of nerves. My stomach is doing flips, butterflies are assaulting me and fluttering up my chest and out of my throat. Perhaps I'm having palpitations. Oh God. What if I drop down dead of a fancying-a-man-heart attack. Do you think that is even a thing? Oh Ava, behave. You're just nervous and scared and what is scaring you the most? 

I think about that for all of a nano-second because I already know I am scared of the way he is making me feel. With his dark hair, those tiger-eyes, broad shoulders, a high tight butt that would sit easily on a football player and that smile that lights up his face and takes all his concerns away. I'm definitely a bit hot and flustered. My body is betraying me like Delilah betrayed Samson. It wants him so badly and I have to admit I am wondering what those lips would feel like on my own. Shit. I am in big trouble.

Such big trouble.

Humongous trouble.

Badass trouble.

To steady my nerves and in the vain attempt to stop thinking about what will happen after dinner, I take a sip of wine. Alright so I lied,  I knocked the glass back, less than a second later the waiter arrived and refilled it for me. I may as well get slightly inebriated it will calm me down. 

"Are you ready American Girl." His smile dazzles me, my heart beats faster and I want to throw myself at him there and then. Crikey this is very unlike me. My mother would not be proud of the wanton thoughts that are currently spiking my mind.   

I gulp and reach my hand out to his extended hand. The electric shock shoots straight through my fingers, up my arm and into my heart. Holy Flip. I clearly haven't had enough wine. I am wondering if he has noticed. Did he feel it? His eyes remain fixed on mine. "My driver is ready. We are going to the Malaga Club. I have booked the terrace for us, we will be private." Wow. A whole terrace. I gulp again and want to reach for my wine glass but remind myself I need to stay sober. Dutch courage is one thing, getting plastered before eating is another. And let's face it, who knows where that could lead to. Plenty of places I hope on the one hand and on the other, well I an shocked with myself. 

Desire has over-come me as he now places his strong hand on the base of my spine right above my buttocks. He leans closer into me and I can smell his heavenly citrus aftershave. It's driving my senses insane. I breathe in hoping he isn't watching me that closely. He is. Of course he is. "Don't worry, American Girl. I will be the perfect gentleman." Great. I mean, yes I hope he will be yet part of me wants him to be so bad that I can't walk the next day. Already my mind has hit the gutter a place I've never witnessed it go before. But it has. I visualize myself raking my hands through his hair, pulling his face close to mine. Playing tango with our tongues. 

The heat off his hand is overwhelming and I can feel myself blushing. I want to press my back further into it, actually I want him to slide it further down so it cups my buttocks. Yes I've got it bad for the man I really didn't want to like at all. It's as if I am a different person and the normal me is looking on wondering what the hell is going on.

Sebastian guides me swiftly through the foyer and out to his waiting car and driver, who attentively opens the door for me before moving to the opposite side. Sebastian sits firmly on his side of the back seat, I long to move towards him. I long to throw all caution to the wind and hurl myself onto his lap. I want to know if he is lusting after me like I am him. I need a cold shower. I knew this was a bad idea. 

"Do you own this club?" My voice is slightly too high. I'm blaming it on two quick glasses of wine and not on my elevated heart rate. I feel it necessary to make small talk, I need to keep myself distracted from this sexual fantasy I am having about the man who only a couple of days before was someone I wanted to slap. 

"It is not one of mine. My best friend Antonio owns it. You will like it. We have food and champagne organized. We can dance and enjoy ourselves without anyone harassing me." I guess he already knows I have been Googling him. Extensively. Who wouldn't?

"Do you get that often. Harassment?" 

"A lot of the time. I usually allow pictures to be taken but this is different, Ava." I love the way he says my name, he allows the v to be extended. It sounds so sexy when he says it that now I don't mind being named after a famous movie starlet. "I want our evening to be peaceful, romantic and un-spoilt. Besides I do not think you want your face all over social media." He smiles again, I want to run my fingertips across his luscious full lips. I'd die for such lips. They are so bite-able. 

"Absolutely not." Now I'm beginning to sober up. The last thing I want is to be associated as the next female on Sebastian Garcia's arm. I don't want to be considered as the next one in the long line of conquests he has already had. Even though he tried to assure me at dinner last night, that he is not that kind of man. Only online all I could see were pictures of him with model like creatures, each more beautiful than the other.

"I hope you've got this covered, Sebastian." I say pointedly. "I'm not your next play thing and I certainly am going to be pretty pissed off if I am portrayed as that. I wish I hadn't bothered coming out now." His smile fades, his eyes darken and I know that I was perhaps a bit rude and outspoken. I fold my arms in front of my chest defensively.

"Trust me, Ava. You are not another conquest. I already have explained I am not that kind of man. I attend many galas and functions, many charity events. At times I am accompanied by a woman but I can wholly assure you American Girl, that I do not see women as conquests. Nor do I sleep with them all. I am a man and yes I have needs, but if I told you how long it has been since I have had sex you would not believe me in any case."

"Try me." I say even more defiantly. Why do I want to know? What is it to do with me? Am I jealous? I don't have any right to be. Now I'm even more confused with myself for even caring. I wish I could just switch my mind and body off somehow. But there is no on and off switch and my body is craving him like some kind of junkie. 

"Eighteen months." He says without smiling, his gaze is fixed on me. I feel uncomfortable mostly because just that look is turning me on so badly I want him right this second. I have to seriously get control of myself. I want to hate him so bad and I can't. I just can't do it. That means that if he has sex with me tonight I will be the first in eighteen months. Alright. Stop right there. You are not having sex with Sebastian tonight. No way. Get a grip. 

I let out a small whistle. "Indeed." He says. "I told you I am not the kind of man you seem to think I am. When I next have sex with someone, Ava it will be with the woman I want by my side for the rest of my life." 

Wow. That is a shocker. He must do an awful lot of self relief practice. All I can do is turn away and look out the window into the now dusky evening. Fairy lights glittering on houses as we pass through the narrow roads of Santa Fe and out onto the main road that will take us into the heart of Grenada. That's a lot of weight on my shoulders if he has chosen me. Maybe I've read way too much into this. It's just dinner. There is no way he would choose me to be the woman he is going to spend the rest of his life with. Besides, I have a life and it's in Chicago.