“I haven’t done this since high school,” Lee said, smiling. “Although
Three Dog Night was the big thing back then, not Benny Goodman.”
Faith said nothing as she twirled and dipped around him, her moves
growing more and more daring, more and more seductive; a flamenco
dancer in white flaming heat.
She hiked her skirt up to give herself more freedom of movement, and
Lee felt his heart race at the sight of her pale thighs.
They even ventured out into the water, splashing mightily as they went
about their increasingly intricate dance steps. They had some tumbles
into the sand and even into the salty, chilly water, but they got back
up and kept going. Occasionally a truly spectacular combination,
perfectly executed, left them both breathless and grinning like
schoolkids at a prom.
They finally reached the point where they both grew silent, their
smiles faded and they drew closer to each other. The spins and twirls
stopped, their heavy breaths eased and they found their bodies touching
as their dance circles grew smaller. Finally they stopped altogether
and simply stood there rocking slightly side to side, the last dance of
the evening, arms around each other, faces close, eyes directly on one
another as the wind whistled around them, the waves pitched and crashed
hard, the stars and the moon watched from above.
Faith finally stepped away from him, her eyelids heavy, her limbs
starting to once again erotically move to a silent tune.
Lee reached out to take her back. “I don’t feel like dancing anymore,
Faith.” His meaning was crystal clear.
She reached out to him too, and then, quick as the snap of a whip, she
shoved him hard in the chest and he flopped backward into the sand. She
turned and ran, her peals of laughter descending over him as he looked
after her, stunned. He grinned, jumped up and raced after her,
catching her at the stairs going up to the beach house. He slung her
over his shoulder and carried her the rest of the way, her legs and
arms flailing in mock protest. They had forgotten the house alarm was
set and went in the back door. Faith had to race like mad to the front
door to disarm it in time.
“God, that was close. Like we really want the police coming by,” she
said.
“I don’t want anybody coming by.”
Gripping his hand tightly, Faith led Lee up to her bedroom. They sat
on the bed in the darkness for a few minutes holding one another,
gently rocking back and forth as though extending their movements on
the beach to this more intimate place.
Finally she eased back from him, cupped his chin with her hand. “It’s
been a while, Lee. It’s been a long time, in fact.” Her tone was
almost one of embarrassment, and Faith did feel embarrassed at this
admission. She didn’t want to disappoint him.
He stroked her fingers gently, held her gaze with his as the sounds of
the waves reached them through the open window. It was comforting, she
thought, the water, the wind, the touches of skin; a moment she may not
experience again for a very long time, if ever.
“It’ll never be easier for you, Faith.”
This surprised her. “Why do you say that?”
Even in the darkness the glow of his eyes surrounded her, held
her–protectively, she felt. The fifth-grade romance finally
consummated? And yet she was with a man, not a boy. A unique man, in
his own right. She looked him over. No, definitely not a boy.
“Because I can’t believe you’ve ever been with a man who feels the way
I do about you.”
“Easy to say,” she murmured, though in fact his words had touched her
deeply.
“Not for me,” Lee said.
These few words were spoken with such depth of sincerity, with not a
trace of the glibness, the self-served ness of the world she had
thrived in for the last fifteen years, that Faith honestly didn’t know
how to react. But the time for talk had passed. She found herself
sliding Lee’s clothes off, and then he disrobed her. He massaged her
shoulders and neck as he did so. Lee’s big fingers were surprisingly