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BirdsandStars

I feel the cream fall on my shoulders, and it just makes me breathe heavily because I know what's coming. His strong, warm, firm hands massaging my body. As soon as his hands touch my skin I get completely tense and a chill runs through my body.

—Relax, Ana. —he says to me as he starts to rub.

It's very easy to say, but he's not the one lying half-naked while being massaged. But it's not just the fact that I'm getting a massage. There's also the undeniable sexual attraction factor between the two of us.

—You've massaged a lot of women? —I ask trying to relax and because I see that he is very good at it.

—It's been a while since I've done that. —he says to me as he presses on a knot. —You're the second one I've done it to.

Am I the second?

And who was the first?

I wonder as he continues his massage. Not that I'm interested. But the way he told me, it makes me think he doesn't massage women very often.

After a while massaging my shoulders, I start to relax. He takes advantage of the fact that I am more relaxed and starts to go down my back. His touch sends electric shocks all over my skin. His thumbs rub the center of my back while his fingers run around the contour of my body, touching the contour of my breasts and ribs. At every moment my breathing becomes faster. And when his hands reach the lower part of my back, I tense up again.

—You've never had a massage before? —he asks me as he rubs that area and I hold back a groan.

—Of course, in a spa. —I answer nervously as he presses hard on that area.

—I mean one of your couples. —he asks me, laughing.

—I assure you that if any of them had known how to give me a massage I wouldn't have let them. —I answer while we both laugh out loud.

He presses and starts climbing towards my shoulders again. And then I feel his breath on my neck.

—Then you've never had an erotic massage. —he says to me in a whisper that makes me shudder completely.

Shit! I didn't expect this. What are he going to do? Excite me until I lose my mind. Not that I'm far from that. Every touch of his hands on my body increases my excitement.

—No...—I'm answering him nervously with accelerated breathing.

—Do you want me to give you an erotic massage, Ana?— he asks me in a sensual tone as his hands go down my back again and my whole body tightens up once more.

And he asks in that tone?

Let's think.

I haven't had a boyfriend since...I've lost count, so I haven't had a decent orgasm in a long time (masturbating doesn't count) and I have a hot guy sitting next to me, while I'm naked and he's giving me a massage. The first massage a man has ever given me in my life. And not only that, he's offering to give me an erotic massage. Would anyone in their right mind say no? I won't do it.

But I can't answer that either. Not when the muscles of my belly tighten in delightful anticipation and the coherent thoughts, the few I have left, fade away when his hands reach the end of my back again. And they stop there. Is he having trouble doing this? Because I won't deny that I'm having them too. I've already forgotten my mantra, I've forgotten everything.

—I thought you could control yourself? —I ask him as I briefly turn my face towards him.

—I'm doing it. —he says as he leaves my body for more cream.

I turn my face back towards the bed.

—What if you couldn't do it? —I ask nervously and anxiously that he will touch me again and lose control.

—We both know perfectly well what would happen, Ana.

At this time there is nothing I want more than to see him lose control of the situation he has created. I wait patiently for him to touch me again, but he doesn't.

I'll look at him again.

—Is something wrong? —I ask him when I see that he doesn't touch me again.

—Do you want a date with me, Ana?—he asks me while I look at him with a frown.

—I thought you were going to give me a massage?

—I don't think I can finish it. Not without doing something I promised I wouldn't do without a date first. So I need you to answer me.

He told me he wouldn't kiss me and he wouldn't sleep with me without a date. What are he talking about?

—Okay. —I end up agreeing.

My body can't deny this anymore. I miss sex. I miss it, I need it and I want it like I've never wanted anything before. But the strangest thing of all this is, I want it to be with him.

—Get dressed, we'll go to dinner, and then I'll give you a proper massage. —he says to me as I watch him get out of bed and walk to the bedroom door.

—Where are we going for dinner? —I ask him, making him stop at the door and look at me.

—Put on something casual, we won't go far. —he says as he leaves the room.

I sit on the bed while I pull the towel and cover my body. I get out of bed and open the wardrobe again. Something casual? I look for a pair of worn and torn jeans, an olive green T-shirt and find some converse at the bottom of the wardrobe. Luckily Beth and I wear the same number. I put everything on top of the bed and then I open the underwear drawer. I stare at the clothes. My big debate is a thong or lace panties. I close my eyes thoughtfully and after a while I decide on the lace outfit. The thong will be left for another time.

I get dressed and go into the bedroom after having my hair done. And there's Christian waiting for me. He's wearing dark jeans and a grey V-neck T-shirt. He glides his eyes over my body and smiles seductively at me.

—Ready for the date? —he asks me as he takes a step in my direction.

He stops right in front of me. He raises a hand to my cheek and I inevitably close my eyes. I love the touch of his warm hand on my skin.

—Open your eyes, Ana. —he asks me.

And I lose myself in his gaze. His forehead is stuck to mine, his face, for the first time, is right next to mine. His lips tempting me to kiss them. But I don't want to make a move. He said he'd kiss me after the first date.

—I'm dying to kiss you, too, Ana. —then he slides his nose down my cheek and into my neck where I feel his breath. —I'm crazy about the smell of coconut cream on your body. —he tells me before kisses me and walks away from me smiling.

—It's lucky I don't have it all over my body. —I say with a smile. —I'm sure it would be impossible for you to resist.

—I can't resist it now, so we'd better go. The sooner we have dinner, the sooner I'll have you naked to continue the massage and kiss every part of your body.

If he continue to talk to me like that, I don't think we'll ever get out of the apartment.

He tangle his hand with mine and pull me towards the apartment door. To my surprise, we don't take the car. Instead, we walk down the streets of New York holding hands. I'm distracted. Both by the atmosphere at this hour in downtown Manhattan and by the warmth and tingling that runs through my whole body as his hand intertwines mine. I am not even aware that a few blocks later we stop in front of an Italian restaurant. Outside there are several tables set up and Christian quickly pulls my hand to one of them.

—Have you ever eaten here? —he asks me as he signals for service.

—No. —I answer him as I lose myself in his gaze.

Until 72 hours ago I lived far away from here.

—You're about to taste the best pizza of your life. —Shall we share a Hawaiian?

—Okay. —I tell him automatically.

I can't even think about dinner while I'm sitting in front of him. Much less knowing what's next after dinner.

Someone comes up to our table. The first thing I think of is the waiter. But from the effusive Italian greeting he gives Christian, I know he's the owner of the little restaurant.

—Buona sera, signor Christian. Bella la compagnia che hai questa sera. Avete intenzione di ordinare? Le porto la lista dei vini? —Christian smiles at him while answering him in Italian, too, to my surprise.

—Buona sera, Maximo. Due birre e la tua migliore pizza hawaiana.

—Subito, subito. — he says as he leaves quickly.

I stare at him.

—I didn't know you spoke Italian.

—I lived in Italy for a while. The language gets to you. —he says to me with a smile.

—Do you come here often?

—Whenever I can. —a boy interrupts us by putting two beers in front of us. —Maximum is a good friend. —I see him drinking his beer. —I met him in Italy, we became friends there and when I returned he joined me and settled here. I helped him a little with his business.

—You helped him? —I ask in amazement.

—Yes. I'm co-owner of the place.

—So you own the best restaurant in New York, co-owner of a small Italian restaurant, former kick boxing champion, you teach. I'm impressed. —but he smiles at me.

It's not a normal smile. It's the mischievous smile of someone who's hiding a secret.

—Am I missing anything else?

—Yes, you missed a nightclub, I'm also a co-owner.

—If you have so much business, I don't think you need the driver's job, right?

—No, I don't need it. It's a favor I'm doing Elena.

I've already been told that. What kind of favor will that be?

—Does that mean you're a millionaire? —I'm asking him in amazement now.

—I don't consider myself that way. But yes, I have the money I won't be spending for a long time.

And I find out that way. I'm living with a millionaire or almost a millionaire, who doesn't like to speculate on his money, and he says it like it is.

—I guess Beth doesn't know.

—Not many people know, I'm very reserved about some things.

—Why do you do it? —I need to know.

If he don't need to work. Why do he have so many jobs? He teaches kickboxing, works in a nightclub, which I imagine is his, although I don't know what he actually does there. And recently he's been driving. I don't get it.

—I don't like to feel useless. The first business was this and then came the nightclub. After the accident I spent my time learning to cook. Well, I had notting to do locked up in the four walls of the apartment. And in I finally decided to set up the restaurant we went to the other night.

—What about the classes?

—The classes started after I finished rehab and got back in shape. That way I can keep in shape and be useful in teaching others what I've learned. —he says with a smile. —Why did you start practicing it? Everyone has a particular reason for doing it. What's yours?

I stare at him while drinking my beer. I don't know whether to tell him.

—I haven't had much luck with men. —I tell him as he raises an eyebrow, incredulous. —And I thought it wouldn't be bad for me to learn to defend myself in case some other idiot touched me.

—Did someone abuse you?

—No. But with the luck I've had, better to be safe. —I'm telling him while we're both laughing our heads off.

—You have a beautiful smile. —he says, staring at me.

—Thank you.

At that moment we are interrupted by our pizza. The waiter leaves it and quickly withdraws. And we start eating the delicious pizza. Christian wasn't lying when he said it was the best pizza in the world. I don't know how I ever tasted it. Our eyes cross from time to time. And I smile at him and he smiles at me. The pizza is huge, and we quickly finished it between the two of us. Christian asks for the bill, pays without even letting me have an opinion, and after he says goodbye to Maximo we leave.

He takes my hand in his again and takes me for a walk all over Little Italy. It's amazing how well he speaks Italian, even though I don't understand a word he says. But hearing him speak and seeing him smile at me makes my breath quicken. We go into a store and while I'm looking at some accessories I watch him at a counter buying something that they put inside a little brown paper bag.

An hour later, we are walking to the elevator in the apartment. He presses the call button while I look at him briefly and then look back at the elevator doors.

The doors open and we go inside. Christian presses the button on our floor without letting go of my hand, and the doors close. The elevator begins to rise. As our floor gets closer, I start to get more nervous. He still hasn't kissed me, he hasn't even made the slightest attempt. And I don't understand.

—What are you thinking about? —he asks me suddenly as he slips a finger across my frown.

I didn't realize I was frowning. I stare at him.

—That you haven't kissed me. —I answer him as he gives me a radiant smile.

—Soon. —It's the only thing that answers while the doors open.

As soon as we enter the apartment he leads me to my room and stops in the middle. He turns to me and smiles. He puts the bag on the bed and I stare at him.

—What did you buy? —I ask him curiously.

—Massage oil. —he answers seductively. —I told you I was going to give you a proper massage. Now... —he says, taking a step in my direction and stopping a few inches from my body. —Do you want me to undress you or would you rather do it yourself? —he asks me, while I lose myself in his gaze, not knowing what to answer.

Or if I should do it.