Ok I know you are waiting for the end of the story about the party. After my choking episode with the wontons I managed to somehow acquire a taste for champagne, although now I’m not so sure if the wonderful fizzy feeling I was experiencing while talking to Dylan was a result of the bubbles in my drink, or something else. And I have to admit, albeit reluctantly that I felt quite a lot of chemistry going on between us but it may have been in my imagination. Either way, I was not going to let some rockstar flatter me into his bed, even if he was gorgeous, funny, handsome and, I realized later, a great dancer. Could he really be this damn fabulous? There had to be a catch, apart from the obvious fact he undoubtedly has queues of women lining up only too happy to lie down or bend over (and I don’t mean backwards) for him. Surely there was a fatal flaw that could save me from his magnetic charm, chain-smoking being the ideal defect, except I had already been told he does a lot of charity for the lung foundation, well then, drug addiction perhaps? I made a mental note to have a snoop in the bathroom medicine cabinet, but would a rockstar keep a stash of cocaine lying around like that anyway? Unlikely. What on earth am I talking about? He wouldn’t be interested in me anyway.
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But no doubt my friends told him I’m in Malta, single and available, (random dates with Gerard hardly count). They hinted we would make a great pair and that may be so but let me reiterate that if Dylan thought I was going to throw myself at him just because he’s a sh*t hot, drop dead gorgeous and very talented rockstar, he was gravely mistaken.
I did try. In fact I managed to avoid him for most of the night, which wasn’t very difficult because naturally everyone wanted to talk to him and more importantly, be seen talking to him. Later however, when the party was in full swing, much alcohol had been consumed, the DJ had started ramping up the music and everyone was moving and shaking, we somehow found ourselves navigating towards each other once again and thats when the fireworks started..
This was too cliched, far too ‘Mills ‘n Boon’ to be credible, the kind of thing that only happens to blonde fictional characters in a badly written novels, for whom everything conveniently falls into place. I knew only too well my life is not at all like that, things never work out for me conveniently, or otherwise. If Dylan wanted me I was certain it was only for sex, another conquest to add to the stream of other unmemorable faces and (excuse my crudeness) fannies. Whilst these thoughts raced through my mind I could feel my temperature rise and as he moved closer, my heart picking up speed in protest against reason. Then he leaned in as if to whisper something in my ear, paused for a moment and then with an apparent change of mind, withdrew without saying a word. I felt the echo of his breath caress my cheek, sending a cascade of tickling sensations flood my body. It was a strategic move on his part, one which sparked my desire. I needed to get away from him…FAST!
Excusing myself I hid out in the bathroom, checking out the cabinet in the vain hope I might find some incriminating evidence, then left the party by taking the private stairs in the garden to the bottom of the cliff. The night was beautiful, balmy and still, lit by an almost full moon in a naked sky. Leaving my heels, towel and dress on a large flat rock I was, within seconds, sinking into syrupy coolness. The distant humof the party reverberated across the valley and then as I sunk my head beneath the waters surface, all sound ceased.
After about ten minutes floating like a starfish under the stars I climbed back out, dried off and lay on my back looking up at the twinkling night sky. “Hey, are you okay?” Who was this? ”Yes, I’m fine.” I sighed, slightly irritated by the intrusion. “Who’s there?” The dark figure moved towards me and I could just about make out that it was Dylan. “Nice swim?” he asked a little shyly. Realising who it was my defenses came down immediately. “Fantastic,” I gushed “hey, thanks for inviting me, but why are you here?” “I’m looking for you of course,” he said, slowly beginning to undress. What was he doing? “You want to go for a swim?” I quizzed, feeling a little shocked and confused. “No.” he replied flatly. With that, I could suddenly feel myself becoming wet. Something was not right about all of this, he needed to stop right now, but he just continued undressing until he was standing over me completely naked. Feeling extremely vulnerable I tried to sit up but something was stopping me. Still I could feel myself becoming even wetter. I put my hand behind me feeling for the rock but missed and fell over. Startled, I then opened my eyes, but strangely Dylan was nowhere to be found. Suddenly it dawned, having fallen asleep on the rocks, the whole erotic incident had been a dream, a deliciously sensuous, crazy dream. And in the middle of it all I had rolled over into a rock pool.
No wonder I was feeling wet!
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