She Won't Be Lonely Long

For Hannah, Saturday's birth was rough. Maral had coralled her into Madrid for a day of pampering, her incentive being this: "Hannah, I am dead serious, you don't own anything appropriate for this dinner and you will look like an ass if you don't wear a dress and heels."

The idea was wretched to Hannah, but she trusted Marals word and to a small extent understood the luxuries of Real Madrid football club. It was royalty and nothing she owned was suitable for their presence. Maral had also convinced her to get her hair professionally done, a spray tan, and nearly half of her body waxed, all firsts in her book. By the time she was completely ready for the dinner to Maral's standards, there wasn't much time to spare.

They arrived at the enormous plaza ten minutes late, photographers flocking to the three like a swarm of blood-hungry mosquitos the minute they left the car. Luckily, the well-equiped security swatted away the pests at the door and allowed the three to pass into supremecy, an enormous social hall decorated elegantly in a way suited for kings. Hannah felt fabulous with what Maral had forced her to do to with her appearance, for once not noticing any flaws in the way she looked.

She was wearing a dress of red satin that was incredibly tight, hugging her curves brilliantly as she walked. It stopped at her knees and began low on her chest, spaghetti-strapped with a cupped, sweetheart neckline that made her cleavage look fantastic yet somehow remain classy. The glossy black shoes she was wearing had long, spiny heels that made her taller than she had ever been, as she had never worn stilettos. They made her aware of every step and very nervous that she would fall, but to the seperate eye they only made her walk look very intriguing as she gripped a small black clutch to match in front of her stomach. Her hair spiralled over her bare left shoulder as a side-pony tail, her curls strangely beautiful to her peripheral because Maral's hair dresser had insisted on straighening her hair first, and then curling it the way that he liked. She understood now that he knew best.

When she strode into the large arch-like doorway of marble, unnacompanied because Maral and Sergio were hand-in-hand a few meters ahead, every male eye in the room swung to her, their pleasure feeding on her well-showcased curves although the women that they had chose were all malnourished enough that not even their hair managed to have shape. It wasn't as odd for her as one would expect, being ogled by a group of utterly gorgeous men. She knew she looked as close to stunning she ever would and didn't let the undeniably radiant WAGs intimidate her slightly as they curiously stared. She didn't care about anybody's thoughts for her besides Xabi, and as a matter of fact, he was already on his feet headed for her. His team-mates now knew that she wasn't fair-game, and the WAGs' curiosities were eased.

A smile graced her face as he came into view and she was beginning to realize just how much she had missed him throughout the past year.

"Wow." was all Xabi managed to say once he had reached her, stopping as close as he could get to take in her scent, a divine fusion of gardenias and warm vanilla.

"Do I look fine?" she asked, knowing that she did but wanting to hear it from his own mouth, garnished with that fabulous accent that made her heart shutter.

"You look..." Xabi took a minute to find the English term but couldn't. "Beyond words."

Past that point, it was anguishing to control their urges for one another. Xabi looked fantastic himself, wearing a tailor-made tuxedo that boasted his masculine build well and an entoxicating scent that made Hannah want to undress him where he stood. They took a seat with Sergio and Maral at a table in the far corner, although most of the area was standing room, and he couldn't help but reach his hand under the curtain of sterile-white table-cloth and into her dress to feel her thigh. The honey-brown, satiny skin of her body felt just as great as it smelled and she was glad that she had resorted to waxing just hours before.

"How long will this last?" she asked heavily into his ear, her breathing irregular as his hand explored what was under her dress. His nimble fingers were teasing her, making their way to the most sensitive areas between her legs and only gracing them for a minute, long enough to get her excited but not long enough to get the job done.

On a normal day, this would have seemed magnificent to Hannah. It was such an elegant, formal event indulged with what was sure to be over $80,000 in preparation. There was a gargantuan ice-sculpture, fountains of every booze imaginable, silk and diamonds everywhere to see, and more than a hundred people there, all having to belong to some sort of monarch to even earn their presence. But it wasn't a normal day; It was the first time she had personally seen Xabi in more than a year and she was lusting for him more than ever. He was becoming a bit antsy himself, exasperatedly disciplining his hand whenever he felt her breathing increase, her legs shaking and her grip on him tense. He knew exactly what came after those symptoms, having brought them on her more than a few times, and didn't want to have her screaming right there in the dining area.....

On second thought.... it certainly would give the team something to talk about....

He chuckled to himself, imagining how that would pan out, but knew better than to tease her for too long.

"I have been here long enough to make an appearance," he convinced himself. "It will end whenever you want it to."

She leaned upright, planning to wait just a while longer to seem curteous. Not 45 seconds could pass before she leaned to him again and whispered "I sort of want it to end now."