Night Out

James left Nadia with the vial and waited a few steps behind. He watched her intently as she nervously drank the potion and set it down on the stone wall lining the sea walk. He gave her a few minutes to acclimatise to the temporary loss of her core memories.

I don't feel drunk, but I don't remember how I got here. I look down at my comfy tank top, jeans and sneakers for clues. I'm clearly out for a night-time walk along the coast, so I may as well continue it. I shake off the weird feeling and continue walking, admiring the sounds of the waves crashing on the dimly lit shore to my right as they meet the excited chatter of patrons in restaurants and bars on my left. This is why I came here: to escape from ... whatever it is I usually do. I rub my head again and continue along the rickety stone boulevard.

I buy an ice cream from one of the friendly vendors on the side of the walk, and lean on a palm tree to enjoy it peacefully. What a beautiful evening. The only source of stress in the world is keeping my long hair from blowing in the warm breeze into my ice cream before I can eat it. That and this weird sensation -- I look around behind me, suspiciously, to see nothing behind me, as expected -- of being watched.

I return to enjoying my ice cream. It must be excellent because I feel a tingle down my spine, presumably from the cold, delicious dessert. The tingles traverse all over my body, giving me goose bumps. I sigh to myself as I enjoy the sensation, particularly focused on my now crinkled, hard nipples, as they briefly distract me from my cold dessert. I'm tempted to rub them to give them attention, hoping that they'll calm down, but I resist the urge, remembering that I'm in plain sight in a relatively busy area.

I finish the ice cream and eat the cone, taking one last moment to look out to the sea, before continuing on my walk. It would be nice if my nipples would calm down, though. Trying to explain to my anatomy that I've finished the cold dessert seems fruitless, so I continue my walk for now. The way my long black dress flows behind me in the wind makes me feel so elegant. It's a shame I chose to wear this with my white sneakers, else I'd look really nice right now.

Wait, I'm being silly - I must have changed them in the hotel for these elegant flat, black patent pumps. That must have been when I did this makeup. I really need to work on my memory.

I look across the street and one man stands out to me somehow. As if he's so much easier to see than the rest of the dimly lit area. He's so handsome, there in his tuxedo, cocktail in hand. My type without a doubt. I'd talk to him if I weren't so shy.

On second thought, I'm on holiday and I feel adventurous, I think. I feel such a strong compulsion to join him at his table, I can barely fight my body as it walks slowly toward him.

As I approach, he summons a waitress with just a gesture. The waitress pulls the other chair out in front of him and beckons for me to sit.

He smiles as I sit at the table, opposite him, but he doesn't say anything.

"Hi." Is that the best I can do?

"Hi Nadia." I turn my head slightly, concerned that he knows my name.

"How--?" I find myself falling silent as he interrupts me with his dominant demeanour. Why do men like this make me feel so weak in a good way?

He interrupts me, "how indeed."

I don't have time to raise an eyebrow at his mysterious tone before he simply flicks his forefinger at the candle. I jump back in my seat as the tiny flame from the tealight became a thin tornado of fire, easily a few feet above the table. Patrons around us gasped at the sudden warmth and light. "Oh, nice trick. You nearly burned my eyebrows off," I start.

"You're perfectly safe, and it wasn't a trick. I'll explain if you do me the honour of staying for a drink."

The waitress surprises me by appearing next to me with ... I sniff the virgin bramble. Exactly what I was craving. How could he know?

"Could it be magic?"

What does he mean by that, can he read my thoughts?

"Yes."

Holy shit. The goose bumps are back on my arm.

"is it magic."

Or was that the end of his sentence?

"I knew when I saw you walk past, that you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen, and I wanted to meet you, so I brought you here."

I wanted to contest his point and prove that I walked here myself, but my heart was busy fluttering at the compliment from this stranger. His words were so deliberate, it made them all the more powerful and the complement all the more meaningful. I felt my concentration being sucked into our conversation. All I could focus on was him, the candle and my drink.

"I'll stay for a drink if you tell me how you did the candle trick."

He moves his finger in the air in front of me, but I can feel the back of it running down my neck, then chest, then between my breasts. I gasp from the sensation and let my body push my chest out, toward the invisible hand. It feels so good. I close my eyes and let my lips part slightly as I embrace the sensation while it lasts.

As the phantom hand moved away from me, I slip forward even further, trying to keep it on my chest. I open my eyes in disappointment, to see him drawing a line along the folded napkin next to him with his forefinger. As he did, I felt the same finger on my knee, running along the top of my leg, toward my body. He let two other fingers joined on the napkin, and sure enough, I shuddered with anticipation as those very fingers curved inward to my inner thigh.

Hold on, though. This isn't me, and this situation is weird. I lean back in the chair and try to snap out of it.

"This -- I don't know how you're doing it or who this pickup works on -- but this isn't me. I hope you find someone else willing to fall for your magic tricks." I stand up and take a step back from the table.

"Perhaps I was too forward with you," he said across the table at me.

Across the table? I was just standing, wasn't I?

"No matter, you're spending the night with me one way or another," the mystery man smirked, ignoring me as I investigated the chair I was somehow sitting in again.

Cocky. I challenge him, "is that so?"

"It is indeed. And you have a choice. Are you going to enjoy it with me, or try to fight me?" As he spoke, he reached to the candle and squeezed the flame. I felt my throat tighten as the sensation is mirrored on my still erect nipples.