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It’s not a question, so I don’t answer it. “Do you want to dance?”
“I was dancing,”
“I know…I mean…with me…”
She gives me an assessing once-over. “Why?” She folds her arms across her chest, her bright blue eyes are full of wariness.
It’s my turn to look confused. “Is there more than one reason a guy asks a girl to dance? You’ve got a hot body and an epically pretty face.” I take a step closer “And, I want to see if your skin is as soft as it looks.”
Her pink lips part in surprise. Her eyes are wide and gleaming in the firelight and the hostility that was in them when I first approached is gone. All I see is invitation, but there’s a glint of innocence in them. I can’t tell if it’s real or feigned, but I want to hear her say yes.
I take a step toward her. “Can I?”
She swallows audibly and licks her lips and nods. “Okay.”
I reach out and trail a finger down her bare shoulder and draw my hand away.
“So? Is it as soft as you imagined?” She runs her fingers over her throat before they come to rest with a nervous flutter over the exposed skin of her chest.
Oh yeah, I can smell the inexperience on her. I should stop and say goodnight. But, I can’t remember the last time I was this attracted to anyone…and it’s not like I can deflower her out here in the open. Just a little longer…
“Do you want me to touch you there, too?” I nod at her hand resting at the base of her throat.
She swallows and nods her head.
“Come here, sexy” I order gruffly and hold out my hand.
“Sexy?” She looks up at me again. Her face is flushed and reach for her.
“Yes. Now, come here.” I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her body flush against mine
. Her free arm loops around my neck, and I take advantage of her slightly arched neck to press my nose to the soft skin of her throat and inhale.
She smells like a perfect summer day--sugary lemonade, sunshine, and wildflowers. She pulls away from me just enough that she can see my face. “What’s your name?” she asks in a soft voice full of wonder.
A crack of thunder rumbles loud enough it startles shrieks, screams, and bellows from the revelers around the lake.
We look at each other wide-eyed. She looks like she’s about to say something when a deafening strike of lightning turns the night sky as bright as it was before the sun set.
“Shit.” I swivel to look at my backpack. “My keyboard is in here, I should put it away before it starts to rain.” I glance in the direction of the parking lot. “Let me run to my car, please wait for me.”
She glances at the sky and shakes her head. “I don’t think you’ll have time.”
“It’ll only take five minutes.”
She shakes her head “My house is closer.”
I glance around, confused. There are no houses by this lake. But before I can ask, it starts to rain. There’s no build up; It falls in torrential sheets formed by fat droplets that sting when they hit us and hit the ground with the force of thundering hooves.
The downpour douses the campfires and with the same dramatic suddenness of this storm, darkness falls.
The crowds of people shout and scramble toward the parking lot.
“Come on,” she shouts to be heard over the downpour, slips her hand into mine and turns us in the direction of the tree line.
We step through a narrow opening in the copse of trees and onto a curving pathway that leads us to wall made of towering boxwoods. As we run around the hedge, a huge house comes into view. It’s got a wood log roof and framed like a normal log cabin would be. But the first floor is made almost entirely of windows. And the entire thing sits on stilts that lift it two stories off the ground. When we step onto the small wooden bridge to reach a set of stairs, I realize it’s built in the middle of its own private lake. Even in the dark and rain, it’s an impressive sight and I slow down to take it in.
She stumbles, and her rain slick hand slips out of mine and falls forward. She breaks her trajectory with her hands. She clutches her ankle, and looks up at me, pain twisting her face into a grimace.
