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The song changes again, another bump-and-grind Soca beat, and I step into Michelle. She looks up at me, a small smile flashing on her face, and wraps her arms around my neck.
I may not be the great dancer Manny is, but I don’t need to be. Michelle leads us, and I try my best to get my hips to follow hers.
Despite the heat of the dance floor, I inch us closer until my hands are around her waist, her nose touching the collar of my shirt. Our thighs are touching, legs tangling, and bodies moving together, and it’s hot, but also, it’shot.
The music changes to a slower beat, and the DJ breaks in. “Party people, the night is still young. Here’s a reminder to hydrate, enjoy the view, and don’t forget to get your lips ready for a midnight kiss. We’ve got a few hours left before the fireworks show starts.” The volume goes up again, and I chuckle when the artist sings about drinking water and minding her business.
Michelle breaks away from me and wipes the sweat off her forehead. “Water?” she shouts.
In response, I guide her toward the edge of the crowd. The staff has put stacks of glasses and pitchers of ice water at every table, so I grab two glasses, and Michelle pours the water. I lead the way toward the sand.
We aren’t the only ones using the beach to escape. A few couples wander up and down or sit at the chairs set out in the sand. There’s not much breeze, but the space and fresh air feel good. We take long pulls of water, draining our glasses, and set them down at a table between two chairs. Since we’re barefoot, we head down to the water and step in. It’s flat calm, and the water feels good.
“Who do you think Manny’s going to kiss at midnight?” Michelle asks. We turn away from the party and walk slowly, the water flowing over the tops of our feet with every step.
I tap my chin. “I think the bachelorette party is the only option.”
“Oh, is that what the group of women is here for? Interesting choice for New Year’s Eve.”
“It’s almost entirely couples here, so Manny has limited choices for finding someone to kiss.”
“So do you,” she says, and I stop, digging my toes into the wet sand underneath me. Michelle hesitates, looking down at her feet, distorted by the shallow water and moonlight. When she finally glances up, she looks sad and wistful.
I’m not always great at reading people, and over the past few days, I’ve been taking care of her.
But I’ve also been getting to know her. She’s not my patient. She never was, officially, and now she’s a woman who’s had a rough few days but is still a woman—sexy and beautiful and funny. A woman I want to kiss tonight more than anyone else in the entire world. I don’t know if she wants that, too, or if the past few days will have been too much for us to overcome.
“Michelle,” I say, stepping closer. She stares up at me, and my stomach somersaults as I raise my hand to her face, cupping her cheek. She leans in, still gazing up at me, and I move a few more inches closer, as close as we were on the dance floor, bringing my other hand to her waist and sliding it around.
I lower my head and wait, asking her to meet me halfway. Her head tilts up, and our lips touch. Hers are warm and soft, giving underneath me, and I slide my hand back into her hair. Tension ratchets up inside me as our lips move together, soft and gentle, exploring until Michelle’s part and the tension tightens as I slip my tongue next to hers.
Everything shifts. Her hands grip my shirt, mine tightens in her hair, and she moans into my mouth. We’re pressed tighter, drinking each other in, chests flush, my growing erection grinding into her waist, her ass full in my hand, and it would be so easy to slip my hand under her skirt and squeeze…
I break us apart, and Michelle gasps. In the light of the moon, her lips are swollen and glossy, eyes hooded, breath coming in heavy pants that match mine.
“That,” she starts and then swallows before continuing. “That wasn’t a midnight kiss.”
“No,” I tell her. “That was the first kiss.” I step away, giving us both space as we straighten our clothes and hair. I can’t keep my eyes off her, though, and when she meets my gaze again, I’m relieved when she breaks out into a smile. “I promise I’ll control myself better at midnight.”
A wicked grin flits across her face, and she leans in. “Don’t.” Then she grabs my hand. “Come on, let’s get back to the party.”
We dance for hours. It’s fun, it’s hot, it’s torturous. I try to control myself, but Michelle’s lips are right there, and we’re dancing so close I can’t resist. And she knows how much I want her—I’m fighting a losing battle with a hard-on, and it’s entirely her fault. In fact, I’m pretty sure she’s laughing at me as she grinds up against it.
Finally, finally,thank god, finallymidnight approaches. Waitstaff passes out glasses of champagne, and we try not to drink it all.
“Party people, it’s time! Y’all ready to count us into the new year and start 2023, right?”
Everyone cheers.
“Then let’s go! TEN! NINE!”
The crowd joins in and counts along with the DJ. Michelle and I face each other, just one of the many couples looking into each other’s eyes, ready to start the new year.
“FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
I pull Michelle in and slant my mouth against hers. The kiss is the most chaste one we’ve had so far, but the tenderness in it makes it perfect.
“Happy New Year,” Michelle whispers against my lips.
