CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Havoc
Glancing at the cell phone I hold in my hand, I check the time again. “Leigh, we gotta go if we’re gonna make it.”
I hate to rush her, but these lessons weren’t cheap, and I know she wants to do them. With a drive to Birmingham tonight, we’re going to cut it close if we don’t leave soon.
“I’m coming,” she yells from the bedroom. “Do you think this is okay?”
I look up from where I was texting with Mason and let out a wolf whistle. I can’t help it, it’s just a natural reaction to what’s standing in front of me. Her long, dark hair is in soft curls, framing her face. Her makeup is more dramatic than I’ve ever seen it, causing her eyes to look huge, brighter than they ever have before. The dress she’s put over her body is showing curves that I rarely get a chance to look at openly. It’s low-cut up top and comes to a stop around her knees, a burgundy color, showing off the tan most of us keep year-round down here. On her feet are flats, thank God, because I don’t want to worry about her breaking an ankle doing this. For a few long minutes, I can’t find my voice. All I can do is take her in and realize this woman is mine. For as long as I want her, she’s fucking mine. A lightbulb clicks in my head and it’s clear as day how lucky I am, and how much I want her forever.
Getting up from the couch, I stalk over to her, admiring the way she fills out the clothing she’s wearing, loving the way she takes a bit of a step back when I get into her space. It’s not a step back because I’m invading, it’s an inviting step. She grabs hold of my button-down and holds me close to her. Tilting her head back so she can see me, we look at each other for what feels like hours, until I angle her chin just right and lean in, sampling a taste of the dark red lips in front of me. A hint of her flavor and I’m like a crack addict taking a hit, immediately the need floods into my body and I run my hands down, stopping at her hips. Curling my hands around her waist, I push her back against the wall, before I move them down to the hem of her dress, pushing it up her thighs.
“Holden,” she pants, pulling our mouths apart from one another. There’s so much emotion in the way she says my name.
“I know.” I move my mouth down her neck, connecting with the flesh there. “We gotta go.”
“I’m almost ready to say fuck the class.” She closes her eyes and slams her head back against the wall.
“Me too, sweetheart, but this has been something I think you’ve wanted to do for a while, and I don’t want to be the person to keep you from it.”
I lean in so that our foreheads touch and take a fortifying breath. “But to answer your question, you look amazing. I think it’s perfect.”
She gives me a smile, one that shoots straight down to where my dick is hard. “Glad you like it.”
“Love it,” I amend. “I love it. You look like some nymph, ready to tempt me into anything.”
“If only it were that easy.” She runs her hand down my chest, hooking her fingers into the belt holding my jeans up.
“It is that easy,” I breathe into her ear. “You can talk me into whatever you want.” Maybe that wasn’t the smartest thing to tell the woman who could hurt me more than any other, but what’s this life without honesty between us.
“Let’s go,” she whispers, pulling that full bottom lip between her teeth.
I push off from the wall, holding my hand out to hers. “C’mon.”
* * *
“We’re the youngest here by like thirty years,” she giggles into my ear as we wait for the instructor of the class to tell us what to do.
“Maybe thirty years for you, more like twenty for me,” I laugh back with her.
It feels good to be here in this setting. She’s standing next to me, my arm around her, holding her close. I kiss the top of her head, just because I want to. I don’t know what it is about being out of Laurel Springs, but I feel like I can be free with her here, that if anyone sees us there’s no judgement. I think that’s more for her than for me though, to be honest.
“How long have you two been married?” One of the older women asks as we wait for our next instructions.
“About seven months,” Leighton answers for us.
“Still newlyweds! Did you dance at your wedding?”
“No ma’am,” I answer. “We had a shotgun wedding.” I give her a smile.
“Doesn’t look like it was too much of a shotgun, otherwise you’d be holding a baby right now, or she’d look like she’s about to pop.”
Leighton grins up at me. “It was more a family situation. Think Romeo and Juliet.” She laughs as she grabs hold of my hand and pulls it around her waist. “Holden is a cop, and let’s just say my family is not always on the right side of the law.”
“Oh, how romantic!” She puts her wrinkled hand on Leighton’s and looks up into Leighton’s face. “I bet the two of you were sneaking off, away from your families, enjoying your little trysts on your own. How does it feel not to have to hide it anymore?”
“It feels good.” I lock my gaze with Leighton’s. “Not having to pretend like I don’t care for her, not having to worry who sees us kiss. It’s all a new kind of freedom we’ve never had before. We’re still not sure how to deal with it.”
Which is totally the truth. We’re all over each other one minute, the next we’re shy. I hope that gets better the more comfortable we are in our new roles.
“You kiss her every chance you get, you tell her you love her every day, and always make time to make sure she’s okay,” the older woman says slowly. “And you, my dear,” she looks at Leighton, “try to dress up for him once in a while, ask him how his day has gone, and don’t make him ask you for a blowjob. Offer it, and do it better every time.”
Leighton gasps and turns her face into my chest. I bet hers is just as red as mine is. “Thank you for the advice.” I chuckle, as I run my fingers through her hair, soothing her as the older couple walks off.
“Oh my God,” she looks up, her chin against my chest, “did she really just say that?”
“She did,” I laugh into her hair. “And ya know, I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea, if you felt like it was something you needed to do.”
She smacks me in the stomach. “Of course you wouldn’t.”
The instructor reels us back in, and we stand there listening. “What I want you to do is listen to the music, let it move you, let it show you the way you want to go. There’s no right or wrong here. Dance a salsa, do a tango, or just sway in your lover’s arms, however you feel comfortable.”
A slow song comes over the studio speakers. “I don’t think I’m good enough to do a salsa, or a tango, but I would love to have you sway in my arms,” I tell her the truth.
“I think I’d like that a lot.” She slides her arms around my neck and we sway like two teenagers at a middle-school dance. I cherish this, these stolen moments we have. It what we have because we didn’t get to date, didn’t get to have memories made with each other in them. As we live our day-to-day now, those are the memories. And this is one I want to remember forever.