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Normally, I would be thinking about the way the sand slipped between my toes, the way the moon was reflecting off the waves.
But all I could think as we walked was of the warmth of Charlie's body heat, the way his arm brushed into mine here and there, but enough to make me wonder if he was maybe doing it deliberately since there was no reason to walk so close to me with an empty beach surrounding us.
The thrum of the bass moved through me as we finally closed in on the crowd surrounding the small wooden stage with two poles holding a banner that said Shore Music.
"You want to be right up in it all, or hang back?" he asked, sounding like either option would suit him just fine.
I lived life so carefully, so dully if I were being completely honest, doing what was expected of me, working various jobs, helping Helga.
Given the choice, well, I wanted to let loose; I wanted to experience something normal and fun that didn't have threats of possible violence or forced marriages or sick friends or anything even remotely responsible attached to it.
I didn't think.
I reached down with my free hand, wrapped it around his, and yanked him with me through the crowd until they engulfed us, until we had no choice but to press close as the band covered an array of songs from Queen, Billy Joel, Cheap Trick, and Van Halen. Lost in the moment, the energy, the collective enthusiasm of the crowd, my body started moving to the music. And to my utter shock, Charlie joined right in, smiling when I started belting out the lyrics, drowned out by the speakers but seemingly hellbent on overpowering them anyway.
But then the music slowed, the female background singer moving forward to take the mic from the lead as the band transitioned into a bluesy cover of "Slow Hand."
I stopped moving, feeling awkward as the couples around us moved into a close embrace as the erotic lyrics filled the air, charged it, made the sexual undertones impossible to ignore.
A jolt moved through my body when I felt Charlie's hand close into my hip, turning, and pulling me closer until my body pressed to his from chest to thigh, my soft lines brushing against his much harder ones.
"Relax," he demanded, making me suddenly aware of the tension in each of my muscles, the way my spine was set to steel. "It's just a dance," he added as his free hand snaked up my arm - leaving shivers in its wake - to snag my elbow, pulling it, guiding my arm to his shoulder where prudence told me just to sink in my hand, but desire made me curl around the back of his neck, pressing my body closer to his as we started to sway.
My other hand moved up to cup his upper arm, feeling the tension in his bicep, the strength there something that might normally make a small ripple of fear move through me, but I found nothing but comfort in its presence.
"Helen," his voice called, low and raspy, almost a little pleading, making me realize my head had been ducked since his hand touched me. My gaze lifted, finding his startling eyes focused on me, the lids seeming a little heavier than usual, sending a warm, delicious wobbly feeling through my belly. "There you are," he declared, soft smile pulling at his lips. "You owe me," he added a second later.
"I thought this was me paying you back."
"For the bet. But you owe me for that cotton candy shit. I'm still queasy just thinking about it."
I bet he was.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Dinner," he declared, making a little disappointment move through me. "What?" he asked, picking up on something in my face.
"I work most dinner shifts."
"Lunch. Breakfast. Brunch. Fucking mid-day snack," he suggested, making my lips curve up. "Come on, you know you want to."
"Think that highly of yourself, huh?" I asked, unwilling to admit the pull I felt to him. Because it was irrational. It made no sense. I barely knew the man.
"Think that highly of you. And am willing to say whatever it takes to make you spend some time with me."
I pretended to ignore the gooey feeling in my heart at his words. "You shouldn't."
"Because of your father."
"Your boss," I agreed.
"He wouldn't approve," Charlie guessed.
"He... has plans for me."
"Plans?" he asked, hand sinking into my lower back, pulling me even closer, until there wasn't so much as a breath of air between us.
There was no denying it then.
The attraction.
The way my body responded to his, to its nearness.
My breasts swelled heavy, my nipples hardening as they pressed into the firm muscles of his chest. A heavy pressure met my lower stomach, as undeniable as the tightening of my sex, the frantic way my pulse started pounding.
