Just a Fling
We are packed in this club like sardines because, apparently, my girlfriends and I are the only ones who have never heard of FriqueShow. And that surprises me a little, considering how much of my life is spent chasing random links on the internet in my endless downtime at work.
I take another step forward, sidestepping someone who grumbles at me for cutting in and wedge myself unapologetically against the bar. I reach up on my toes trying to get the bartender’s attention. As my arm comes up to rest on the sticky surface, it brushes against another person. Against an abdomen to be sure. The solid surface I feel could be nothing else unless a warm, fabric-covered wall was somehow erected beside me in the last three seconds.
I look over my shoulder to prove myself correct if nothing else. The hairs on my neck stand on end. It’s him. The tall guy from the landing found me even with my stealth tactics. He stares down at me with scorn in his eyes, berating me for trying to outrun him. I turn my head back to neutral before smiling and praise his long legs and his ability to move through a sea of people with such ease.
It’s not normal for strangers to press up against each other while waiting for libations but he does. The smell of his cologne wafts down from his height and drapes over my shoulders. Spicy. The good kind of spicy; not the acrid I-just-came-from-an-all-you-can-eat-buffet scent. It lingers in my nostrils and I now enjoy my time in line while breathing him in.
His hands find their way to my hips just as space opens up in front of me. Fingers apply firm pressure leading me forward like I can’t do it on my own. Although, I’m beginning to wonder that myself as my legs tingle from his touch. I shiver even as sweat dampens the back of my neck again and I know I’m done for. The silent communication has me licking my lips and holding my breath in anticipation of his next move. Where will he take me from here?
My friend traces his hand along my lower back as he steps to my side where we can finally get a good look at each other. My eyes start at the hand that lingers on my waist then travel up his forearm to his bicep that sits snuggly in the sleeve of his white tee. His neck leads into a strong, square jaw, and – Oh, hello! my nether regions call out to the man that has me gasping for air at the feeling of being swallowed up by the ocean for a second time. My companion smiles, revealing a dimple in his left cheek. He runs his hand through his shortish, dark brown hair, pulling it away from his similarly-coloured eyes. Eyes that sparkle with the flashing lights in the bar.
He says something to me but it’s too many words strung together for me to lip read. I shake my head and raise my palms to the ceiling indicating that I didn’t catch what he said. He places a hand on my right shoulder then leans in across my body to speak into my left ear. His fingers gently stroke my hair, tucking it behind my ear and I shiver again under his touch.
I like my body’s reaction to him.
He presses softly against the tragus of my ear closing it off to sound and leans in so close I feel his breath on my ear and neck as he speaks in a low voice. “Vodka tonic with a lime?” I am surprised at how he uses a normal volume to speak. Instead of being screamed at, I am graced with the deep, warm tones of his voice. I’m also surprised that he knows what I’ve been drinking. He apparently found me long before I found him.
Even in my high heels, I have to reach up on my toes to get close to his ear. I put my hand on his waist and mimic his noise-canceling trick of closing off his ear, saying that I am just here for water. I am mindful not to speak too quietly, although I wouldn’t mind having to keep my hand on him to repeat myself. His torso is firm and feels solid beneath my fingers. My dirty mind is already wondering what he looks like shirtless.