"Oh God," I moaned loudly. "I don't think I can breathe." I was pulling at my dress, trying to make some space between it and my skin. The three dessert courses, which I'd polished off—I had practically licked the bowl—were taking their toll, especially on the already too-tight dress. Ben smiled as I lowered myself onto the couch with great difficulty and the grace of a large walrus.
"No, I'm being serious," I urged. "I don't think I can breathe," I grabbed at my ribs, which felt like they were being crushed. "Unzip me, please." I tried to roll over, it was very ungraceful.
Ben jumped up, and immediately went to work on the back of my dress. I sighed loudly as he unzipped me and I could suddenly breathe again. My stomach also finally had the space it needed to pop out.
"So Victorian of you, Sera," Ben said as he dragged his fingertips over my exposed back.
"Soon I'll be getting out the smelling salts when you have a fit of the vapors." He lowered his lips to the back of my neck and kissed me, moving across my shoulders.
"Or not." His voice dripped with sex. "Maybe I won't resuscitate you and just have my way with you instead." His kisses moved back to my neck and then started creeping down my spine.
"That's pretty pervy," I whispered. It was hard to talk with the whole tingly, kissy thing happening on my back.
"I can be very pervy, Sera. Just wait and see." He had a smile in his voice, but it almost sounded like a threat—a threat I hoped he would carry out. "So what do you want to do now? I thought we could go out, have a few drinks, hit the dance floor. I want to show you off publically?"
"Mmmm." I said, almost thinking out loud. I did like a good dance, and images of that first time Ben and I danced together flooded my mind. I also liked the idea of being out publically with him on my arm. "Why not!" I said. "As long as I can change out of this dress." I got up, holding the dress up so it wouldn't fall down.
"Will you wear that blue sequined thing again?"
"Absolutely not." I said. Then I smiled at him and walked out.
***
An hour later we were deposited at the bar area of one of Jo'burgs trendiest clubs—in the non-cool-non-trendy sense. It was a place crawling with creatives from the film, advertising and art industries. To be honest, places like this always left me feeling uneasy, a less- than outsider. People walked around in clothes that cost more than my entire wardrobe, clothes that ironically were designed to look old and second-hand as if the wearer didn't care what they wore (only, they all cared very deeply)—Why buy new clothes that look that old?
Ben had lined some shots of Tequila across the countertop—I hate Tequila.
"Well." Ben held up a shot. "To us, on our first date." I smiled at him, as he threw one down and bit into the obligatory lemon—a custom which makes the whole hideous experience...well...even more hideous than it needs to be. I scrunched up my face as I threw one back, grabbing a glass of water to try and wash it down without gagging—Did I mention I hated Tequila? Ben laughed at me and pushed another one my way.
"Are you trying to get me drunk?" I asked, noting the bad boy look plastered across his face.
"Of course. And then I plan on taking total advantage of you."
"Maybe I'll be the one taking advantage, Ben," I said it in the sultriest voice I could muster before I threw back yet another shot. "Aren't you having another one?" I said and pointed at the last one on the counter top.
Ben shook his head, "I'm transporting precious cargo tonight."
"Fine then." I took the last one and threw it down as well. The warmth and the buzz was instant, and it gave me the courage to take Ben by the hand and lead him onto the dance floor.
The cool crowd was already there swaying to some obscure electronic music, but after some laughter and our own version of swaying about, our bodies finally began to move in time to the strangely rhythmic music. Apparently going out with Ben equated to going out with a celebrity. Every few minutes we were interrupted by über-cool people popping by to say "Hi," including a large handful of rather attractive women wanting some face-time—shameless trollops. These women simply walked up to him and planted kisses on his mouth, or hugged him for a little too long, or let their hand linger too long on his shoulder. One even tucked a stray piece of his hair behind his ear—my hair, my ear.
Every time it happened, Ben sort of looked my way sheepishly, trying to shrug them off. There was really only one way to deal with this—I became a wild she-wolf. I pushed my way past one of them—the one batting her eyelashes and flipping her trollopy hair as she talked—and I pulled Ben towards me, and into the most inappropriate kiss that cool club had ever seen. The kiss continued until our bodies began to get into the rhythm again, swaying together as we kissed deeply and passionately, not caring who was watching. I felt Ben's hands come around to my lower back and he pulled me in even tighter, slipping one of his legs between mine, pushing them apart so his knee rubbed against me—okay, now that was really inappropriate.
Perhaps we lost ourselves a little too much because the people and the background melted away into a distant muffled blur. Our kiss intensified, growing hungrier and more desperate by the second. I felt his groin push into me and I could feel that he was rock hard, and I lost myself even more as I rubbed into him.
One of his hands left my lower back and traveled slowly up to my waist, but it didn't stop there. It traveled a little further up my side, and with his fingers splayed working their way up to my rib cage, he very quickly, and deliberately, moved his thumb around to my front and grazed my breast through my dress. I gasped and stopped kissing him and looked into his eyes only to find pure, unadulterated lust.
Keeping eye contact, I sneakily slipped my hand between us and ran it over the front of his pants, watching with delight as he bit his lips in response before taking me by the nape of the neck and kissing me once more. We moved to the music, our hips rocking against each other; the tension building and building, until it felt like too much to contain in this place.
I broke away and took Ben by the hand, marching him out of the club past several girls giving me death stares—including Samantha from work. A few of them turned to each other and whispered. But I didn't care. He was mine and I was going to make sure they all knew. I'd probably regret this in the morning—tequila courage often comes with morning-after regrets—did I mention I like tequila?
Minutes later, we were in the car and Ben pulled me onto my lap and kissed me. We were like two teenagers out of their minds with hormone-induced madness
"Wait. stop." he pushed me off him, "We need to find a quiet spot." Ben started the car and started speeding off. I slipped my hand into Ben's jeans while he drove and continued to touch him. I could see him focusing intensely on the road as his breath quickened and he gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white.
"Sera..." His tone was whispery and urgent. "You're going to have to stop."
"Why?" I continued playfully. I was loving the way he looked right now, almost out of control—in my control.
He gave me a quick glance and a smile. "Well, for practical reasons, really."
I didn't care what was practical. There was no stopping me now.
Ben grabbed my hand, "Stop. You're killing me." He took my hand in his, kissed it and ran it across his cheek. Then he took a deep breath and looked at me again. "You're really killing me," he repeated.
I couldn't stop gazing at him, but I let him drive.
"I'm starved. What say we book ourselves into a fancy hotel and order everything on the room service menu?"
"Um," I felt the color drain from my cheeks and a knot twist in my stomach. This, right here, was one of the many reasons I never socialized with people from work. Ben might have the money to book an expensive hotel room whenever he wanted to—I did not. I would never be able to contribute financially if this was the kind of thing he had in mind. I knew that the tequila might have something to do with my sudden overreaction, but it really did bother me.
"On me!" he clarified quickly. "This is my date." He slipped a hand around the nape of my neck, as if he'd somehow read my mind. It was so strange sometimes how he seemed to know me, how he was able to read my body language, or predict my thoughts. Only JJ and Bruce were able to do that, but that's because they'd known me for ages. Clearly he possessed supernatural powers of perception.
But, even though he was offering, I still hated not being able to pay my way, or at least contribute as an equal. Then again, I'd never really felt like an equal with any of my peers—
"Hey!" Ben clicked his fingers in front of my face. "Stop thinking." He ran his hand over my forehead and playfully straightened my scrunched up brow with his fingers. "Or you'll need Botox soon."
"Okay." I half smiled and nodded at him, even though I still didn't feel good about it.
Then his fingers slipped down the side of my face and he took me by the chin and tilted my head towards him. He took his eye off of the road for a second and looked me in the eye. "You're far too young and beautiful to worry about stuff like that."
"How do you know what I'm worrying about?" I asked.
A strange look passed across his face, but as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared, and he shrugged. "My powers of telepathy," he said flippantly and the subject was dropped.
***
In the dictionary, under the word spontaneous, there should simply be a picture of Ben, although I doubt anyone would ever look up any other word in the dictionary if that really were the case.
From a three-course desert meal dressed in formal wear, to dancing at a club, to an impromptu hotel check-in, Ben was full of surprises. There was no one else quite like him.
And he wasn't joking about ordering everything on the menu either. As soon as we got to the room, he picked up the phone, dialed reception and started ordering just about everything he could, including a bottle of champagne. The room was amazing: a huge bed, massive TV, huge bathroom, massive bath—everything there was big.
As soon as Ben put the phone down he walked over to me and kissed me again. I don't think I could ever get used to the feeling of him kissing me.
"Start running a bath," he said, slapping me on the bum as he pulled away and started fiddling with the TV—Always trust a man to jump head first into the nearest gadget.
I went over to the bath. It was big enough for two and I suspected that was his plan. I poured in the sweet smelling bubble bath and added a spot of fragrant bath oil, then sat on the rim running my hand in and out while I watched Ben flip back and forth through channels until he found the music channels.
"Um...We have the soothing sounds of Kenny G, the groovy sounds of Motown, the killer riffs of hardcore rock, some bump and grind Hip-Hop—" whereupon he did some kind of mock booty shake that made me giggle "—and some pop stuff." He cringed. "Let's give the pop a miss, I'm not a fan of barely pubescent boys singing and dancing in sync...isn't that actually a name of one of them?" He turned and flashed me that smile. I wished I had a camera to capture it and keep it with me—I might look at it every morning if I did. What a great way to start each day.
I gave a small chuckle and blushed a little as I caught myself thinking my run-away thoughts of Ben: Ben and I waking up in the morning together. Ben and I on dates every Saturday night. Ben and I lying in bed together and indulging in late-night pancake eating.
"Bruce and JJ are obsessed with One Direction. It's a bit pervy old-man if you ask me," I said, trying to redirect my train of thought before I headed down the aisle dressed in white with a bouquet of flowers.
Ben turned and smiled, also looking slightly pink in the face, making me wonder what he was thinking. "I think it's a gay thing," he said. "My brother worships Britney and I think secretly hopes to bump into a Backstreet Boy in a back alley."
I laughed loudly.
Ben flipped channels again. "Oooh, what's this?" The sounds of babbling brook, birds chirping and wind chimes filled the room.
"You're not serious?" It was the kind of stuff they played when you went for a massage, or the kind of stuff a stoned hippie might listen to while contemplating matters of deep, esoteric importance."
"Why not?" he said moving towards me. "It serves my purpose." He was wearing his dirty bedroom look again and sat right next to me.
"What purpose is that?"
"To shamelessly seduce you of course, and to have you eating out of the palm of my hand, madly in love with me." He leaned in and brushed his lips against mine. "So are you?"
"Am I what?"
"Desperately in love with me?" He ran his lips across my cheek and down the side of my neck. "Mmm?" he tapered off as he wrapped his hands around my waist and in one movement, slid me closer.
Was I in love with him? That was a good question. Perhaps it was the only question right now. He looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to open my mouth and say something. And I wanted to. I just didn't know what to say. One part of me still thought this was a bit of a bad idea, while another part of me was throwing caution to the wind.
Was I falling in love with him? I was definitely growing to like him more and more as the minutes passed. I felt like a child eating her first ice cream cone. The mere thought of him brought a smile to my face immediately and I felt all of those stupid, clichéd feelings: a fluttering heart when he looked at me, the breathlessness when he kissed me. But more than that, I laughed when I was with him, laughed more than I'd laughed with anyone else before. And I was madly attracted to him, crazily, mentally, insanely.
So was I falling...I think I was. But before I could do anything about it, a knock on the door interrupted the moment. Room service. Ben got up to attend to them and after they left, he started doing something odd. Sitting on the lip of the bath, I watched him as he cleared the little dining table, picked it up and carried it into the bathroom, close to the bath. He then set all the food onto the table, grabbed some glasses, lowered the lights and opened the Champagne.
"Ever had a midnight feast in a bath?" he asked, popping the Champagne and pouring me a glass.
I took it, smiling at him and shaking my head.
"Well it's very simple. Just take off all your clothes and climb into the bath." His eyes moved over my body slowly. "I'll be right behind you."