Mr Americano - ALAN RICKMAN fanfic

Chapter 17 - Barcelona

[M rating! Mature readers only please]

Lots of romance, sex and fluff in this chapter. 

I loved writing this part. I've had this scene in my head for a long time and couldn't wait to get it written down. Hope you enjoy it! 

[More notes at the bottom of this chapter] 

....................

It wasn't easy getting here; let me tell you. Scott - who was still over the moon with the news of his promotion and outlook on prospects for the New Year - insisted on taking me to the train station when I told him I was visiting my parents for the weekend. Not what I expected.

I kiss Scott goodbye at the station, and board the train knowing very well I have to get off at the next stop and turn back just to hop on another one to meet Alan at the airport.

Alan wanted to meet me outside our usual meeting spot - the tube station - so we could drive to the airport together, but I insisted I'd meet him there. I couldn't risk it, especially since it was Scott's day off.

With my suitcase full of newly bought outfits and lingerie, I have a moment to catch my breath on the train heading towards the airport. There have been moments where this web of lies I've tangled myself into suffocates me more than others, and this is one of them. Me, Rebecca Stone, having an affair with an older man. I never thought I would be this person but here I am.

My gut churns, paranoia washing over me, imagining that Scott saw me heading back in the same place he waved me off and hop on a different train in the direction of the airport.

No, Rebecca, relax.

As always, the moment I lay eyes on Alan, every thought of Scott disappears.

.......

After a two and a half hour flight, Alan and I check into the most beautiful boutique hotel, which he chose because of its intricate historical appeal and it's low occupancy, holding only one-hundred guests.

Upon entering our beautiful open plan apartment style room with it's breath-taking view of the city from the balcony, Alan reels off all the places we should see tomorrow and where we'd be headed this evening. Touched at his attention to detail, I'm overcome with appreciation. At times I look at him and I feel something beyond. Far beyond. Something that feels a lot like....

No. Too soon.

I find myself staring at him, absorbing his every detail as he takes out his suit jacket from his case and hangs it up. From the bed where I'm sitting, I watch him change his shirt, enthralled at how handsome he is. I can't resist and get up to slide my hands inside his open shirt, round his hips to his back, breathing in his scent.

"You're just like the teddy bear I never had," I coo, placing gentle kisses about his chest.

Alan, looks down at me with a quizzical expression.

"Well that's a rather polite way of putting it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, how can I compare to this..." he says, grabbing my waist and pulling me closer still, "body of a goddess I'd say."

Melting

We share a perfect kiss, the kind that has me reaching for his belt buckle, but he pulls away insisting that we make a move otherwise we won't get to see Park Guell before it closes.

........

Park Guell, designed by the great Antoni Gaudi in 1900, at night is like a fairy-tale village made of gingerbread built on a hilltop. The warm light makes it seem this way, as we stand high upon a view-point surrounded by beautiful mosaic type murals depicting a rainbow of colours upon swirling architecture.

"This is one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen in my life," I utter quietly, gushing over the sight.

As I stand upon the hill looking into the clear night at the warmly lit buildings below and lightly swaying palm trees, I feel free. I can breath. All my worries, all my anxieties seem to drift away, and I am at one with every sight and sound around me, and it's beautiful. So absorbed was I, that I hadn't noticed Alan who gently slipped his hand in mine for the very first time.

I feel my heart unleash a million butterflies, and our eyes meet. A smile that speaks a thousand words lingers between us as Alan pulls me to him and there, right under his arm, I seem to connect like a puzzle piece, so perfectly.

As we continue our stroll through Park Guell, Alan reels off fact after fact of the historical place and artist. He is so attractive. His intelligence makes me want to rip his clothes off – a rather inappropriate side effect of his wealth of knowledge, but it's not just that. Inside he gives me a feeling that I never want to part from, warmth, comfort that soothes my soul, conversation that inspires me, laughter that lights me up.

.........

After a beautiful dinner that evening back at the hotel, we practically fall into our hotel room passionately kissing before we'd even turned on the light. After the looks across the table he'd sent me, and the rate he was wetting my underwear, I was ready to rip his clothes off.

I grab his tie and pull him close with a provocative look in my eye.

"I want you," I whisper. "Now. All over this room."

He reaches for his tie and slowly slips it out of my hands.

"First you have to do something for me."

With that voice, I'd do anything for him.

"Go into the bathroom. Open the box. Put it on."

My lips melt into a seductive smile. Ooooh a gift.

...........

Lingerie. Sexy, provocative black lace.

The fabric, or lack of, falls loosely around my fingers as I reveal it from the box. I blush at the erotic gesture examining the tiniest pair of black knickers, bra and stockings. I'd never worn stockings before, but as I put them on with the rest and gaze upon my reflection in the full length mirror, front to side, front to back, back to front I discover the woman in the flesh I'd always wanted to be, a woman embracing her assets, her sexuality, her feminine physique, the curve of my backside, my small hips, the fullness of my breasts. For the first time in my life, I have met my sexual equal – the man who knows exactly what I need, the man who fills me with emotions during sex, and not just his dick.