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Regina laughed out loud, tears dotting her eyes for some crazy reason as he grinned up at her. She was as fluttery as the teen she'd once been. After he concluded his entreaty for her to come back to him, with the far-too-tempting words "I'm begging you," he rose to his feet, leaned in and brushed her cheek with warm lips, his trim goatee rasping against her jaw. Her heart pounded right up into her throat.
He gave Marius a "what's up, man, all's cool" nod before he let her go and wandered back to the stage, the rest of the band kicking in as the monologue gave way to syncopated singing once more.
She'd drifted back to her seat, only realizing after the fact she'd done it with the help of Marius's hands on her waist. Turning in his arms, she planted a hard, fierce kiss on his mouth. "Best date ever," she shouted, since it was the only way to be heard.
She liked the smile on his face, the grip of his hands on her hips, the shape of his mouth and heat in his eyes that said he wanted her to keep kissing him. She wanted that, too.
She also wanted to climb onto and take him in every conceivable way. She'd use every ounce of his considerable strength to satisfy her lust, which was boundless. In her ebullience, the desire came not just from her body, but from the crimson swirl of heat inside her heart and soul.
Fortunately, she restrained herself so she could enjoy the rest of the concert rather than being arrested. She channeled her energy into clapping, whistling and seat dancing, until everyone stood up on the final song and danced in the aisles as much as security would allow. Marius didn't dance, but he stayed in his seat and watched the enthusiastic shaking of her ass with a man's unabashed appreciation, until she tugged him to his feet and made him at least do some hip bumping and swaying to the music next to her.
She was still riding that high when he drove her to Tampa's Riverwalk. She gushed about the history of the band, everything she knew about the members, what she loved about their songs...and he simply listened. Not like he was tuned out and waiting for the topic to change to something he found more interesting. He was really listening, with a peculiar look on his face, like he was experiencing something unfamiliar and wasn't sure if it was good or bad. She didn't want to see it turn to the latter, so she slowed herself down and sat back, giving him a shrewd and droll look.
"So the whole Nathan singing to me thing? Within budget or not, I said I didn't want any grand gestures. That surely broke that rule, if the tickets themselves didn't do it. The Amalie guy apparently owed you the mother of all favors."
"Yeah." He parked the car. When he turned to look at her, his practiced smile had returned, which she expected he'd follow with some feigned modesty that would skirt the borders of that charm she kept discouraging. Then abruptly the smile disappeared, with no prompting or warning from her. Instead, he stared out the windshield.
"I didn't do that," he said.
"What?"
He shook his head. "That was spontaneous. Well, in a way. When you're doing the Mistress thing, you realize what you do to a man's senses. Like to the waiter at KeBob's. But other times, you don't seem to realize it. There was no one else who shone the way you did in the first few rows. He saw you right off. You're impossible to miss."
Without another word, he exited the car and circled around the front, leaving her startled by the candid observation. When he reached her door, his expression was back to being the same, that unreadable cocktail that could go in any direction. As he handed her out of the car, she held on, making it clear she didn't want him to drop the contact, unless that was his choice. He laced his fingers with hers, glancing at their link. But he didn't let her go.
The Riverwalk was a good place to meander with a date, stretching along the Hillsborough River and following the bend to Garrison Channel. While it did have more crowded tourist spots, it was long enough that residents like the two of them knew some of the quieter areas, where the mix of tourists and local transplants enjoying the views of the water and passing boats weren't elbow to elbow.
Regina liked all the lights at dark. The blue tinted glow of the bridge over to Harbour Island, the dotting of lights on the cylindrical Rivergate Tower--fondly known as the Tampa "beer can" building--and the warm yellow lights marking the railings along this section of the Riverwalk. There was a mix of hotels, restaurants, and clusters of shops. While the restaurants and bars were still open, she had no interest in any of those when Marius asked if she wanted a drink.
"Let's just walk," she said.
There were other couples on dates, walking hand-in-hand like them. More sat on benches or hung out in groups, laughing and chatting. After walking them a little farther down from the noisier ones, Marius drew her to the rail at the water's edge. "Ever stood on the other side of it, on that ledge?"
"No. I'm a proper citizen who obeys all laws."
"I don't think you're proper in any way, Mistress. One of the most likeable things about you." He nodded. "I bet way back when, they didn't have railings at all."
"They also didn't have to protect themselves from lawsuits, because people took responsibility for their own stupidity," she added dryly.
"I try to accept responsibility for my own stupidity, even if it's way past due. It's the one thi
ng that's all mine, after all." Flashing a smile at her, he put his hands on the rail, hoisted his hips onto the top piece and swung his legs over in one swift, athletic move that had her biting back a sound of alarm. He brought his feet down on the narrow concrete ledge on the other side.
"It can't be okay to do that," she observed. As he leaned against the rail in a standing position, nothing was between him and the water below but a breeze ruffling his hair.
"If a cop sees you, he just tells you to get back on the other side. They won't arrest you or anything." He looked over his shoulder at the other people strolling along the Riverwalk. "And everyone thinks you're a badass for doing what they'd like to do."
"Or they think you're an idiot who's going to show up on tomorrow's news as a drowning, swept away by the current." But after a moment of pondering her sanity, she emulated him, though more carefully. She straddled the rail and sat down on it, swinging the other leg over from a sitting position before easing down to stand next to him. As she came down, he put his arms around her in a loose hold until she was settled. It was surprisingly respectful, a steadying gesture only. When he took it away, she was tempted to hold onto him, keep her hands curled around the arm that had been braced in front of her waist and then above her chest as she slid off the rail onto her feet. Maybe later. She didn't want the gesture to be construed as her being girly and needing support.
The ledge was narrow, not more than a few inches, but she felt secure enough with the rail supporting her from behind. She braced her hands on either side, which allowed her to brush her knuckles against his back. Looking down, she studied the dark water, frothing up phosphorescent white foam where it lapped against the wall.
"Be pretty easy to give your date a nudge and be done with her."
"Yeah, but I don't have enough money to buy two scoops of Dreamy Time ice cream." He pointed to the cart, within a stone's throw from their position. "But to get the two-for-one scoop special, all you have to do is tell the ice cream guy I'm dreamy. If I push you into the water, I don't have anyone to do that."
"What if the girl's buying the ice cream?"
"Then her guy has to say it to her. They're equal opportunity at Dreamy Time."
