Read Online The Adulterer's Unofficial Guide to Family Vacations, A Novel by Leslie Langtry - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Leslie Langtry
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dance floor.A schmoozy, young waiter stopped by, making jokes and imagining some familiarity with us.
“I’ll have a Becks in a bottle,” cold beer seemed to fit better than wine and things were definitely heating up.The waiter asked if I needed a glass.
“No, because it comes in a glass,” I replied.He responded by making the motion of a beating heart and told me I was a woman after his own heart.Alan smiled a bit guardedly and ordered the same, and I realized he was responding possessively.My insides turned to liquid.
“Hey,” I needed to cut the tension a little, “did we have a song?”
A puzzled look crossed his face, “I think so.I’m sure we did.”
“Well, what was it?”How could I forget something like that?Everyone had a song when they dated, didn’t they?
“It must have been something by The Police , right?”I couldn’t help but laugh.Alan was obsessed with Sting in college – once even bleaching his hair and speaking with an English accent.He rose with a mock look of disapproval and disappeared.Within moments he returned.
The song that started playing clicked in my brain, rusty gears beginning to turn, reminding me that we did, indeed, have a song.The beginning strains of Every Breath You Take began to play.Alan stood beside me with his hand out.Without a word I took it and followed him to the dance floor.
Alan pressed his body to mine and slowly began to move.His dancing had improved.I rested my cheek against his – dancing like we did in the eighties was out – we were adults now.My palm rested against his, our fingers interlaced.I could feel his other hand slowly stroking my back.Could he feel my heart pounding against his?My breathing became shallow.And yet we were not transported back to a dark bar with a checkerboard dance floor, interlocked, oblivious to the others around us.We were here.It was twenty years later.And I felt just as consumed as I did then.
The music was flowing toward it’s heartbreaking conclusion.I forgot about the dance floor, the club… everything.My body moved, willing the song to go on forever.He smelled so good.Soft lips brushed my cheek and I felt my fingers twining through his soft, brown hair.We were completely lost in time.His lips swept past my ear and he pulled me hard against him.
“Oh Laura,” he murmured in my ear breathlessly.Our palms became moist, our fingers clutched so tightly as if we were afraid someone would try to pry them apart.
Alan’s hand slid up and down the length of my back.I pulled my head back to look at him and our eyes locked in a passionate embrace.The intensity of his gaze sent gooseflesh rippling across my skin.Yet I could not look away.Our history held us.This history was based on a primeval lust that asserted itself.There was no use fighting it.And I suspect that neither of us wanted to.
The song was ending but we still held each other, gazing into each other’s souls, afraid to blink.At that moment I realized that I wanted him.
Another song started but we didn’t move.I couldn’t even recognize if it was fast or slow or if anyone was even within two miles of us.My heart was beating like it would explode.But there we were, holding each other, overwhelmed by what passed between us.It was then I realized that we had stopped dancing, that we were just standing there in the middle of the dance floor.
Loud music trickled into my ears until I awoke from my trance.Couples were moving all around us to wild rhythms.I smiled weakly and started to pull away, but that look of fire still burned in his expression.After a second, Alan relaxed and smiled, following me off the floor.Wordlessly we agreed to go outside.Maybe some cooler air would dampen this growing sense of need.
Music beckoned from the outdoor stage and we wandered up to the crowd.In spite of the blazing rock music, Alan came up behind me, wrapping me in his arms and together we swayed slowly, as if the band were playing a simple ballad.He was taller than me,
“I’ll have a Becks in a bottle,” cold beer seemed to fit better than wine and things were definitely heating up.The waiter asked if I needed a glass.
“No, because it comes in a glass,” I replied.He responded by making the motion of a beating heart and told me I was a woman after his own heart.Alan smiled a bit guardedly and ordered the same, and I realized he was responding possessively.My insides turned to liquid.
“Hey,” I needed to cut the tension a little, “did we have a song?”
A puzzled look crossed his face, “I think so.I’m sure we did.”
“Well, what was it?”How could I forget something like that?Everyone had a song when they dated, didn’t they?
“It must have been something by The Police , right?”I couldn’t help but laugh.Alan was obsessed with Sting in college – once even bleaching his hair and speaking with an English accent.He rose with a mock look of disapproval and disappeared.Within moments he returned.
The song that started playing clicked in my brain, rusty gears beginning to turn, reminding me that we did, indeed, have a song.The beginning strains of Every Breath You Take began to play.Alan stood beside me with his hand out.Without a word I took it and followed him to the dance floor.
Alan pressed his body to mine and slowly began to move.His dancing had improved.I rested my cheek against his – dancing like we did in the eighties was out – we were adults now.My palm rested against his, our fingers interlaced.I could feel his other hand slowly stroking my back.Could he feel my heart pounding against his?My breathing became shallow.And yet we were not transported back to a dark bar with a checkerboard dance floor, interlocked, oblivious to the others around us.We were here.It was twenty years later.And I felt just as consumed as I did then.
The music was flowing toward it’s heartbreaking conclusion.I forgot about the dance floor, the club… everything.My body moved, willing the song to go on forever.He smelled so good.Soft lips brushed my cheek and I felt my fingers twining through his soft, brown hair.We were completely lost in time.His lips swept past my ear and he pulled me hard against him.
“Oh Laura,” he murmured in my ear breathlessly.Our palms became moist, our fingers clutched so tightly as if we were afraid someone would try to pry them apart.
Alan’s hand slid up and down the length of my back.I pulled my head back to look at him and our eyes locked in a passionate embrace.The intensity of his gaze sent gooseflesh rippling across my skin.Yet I could not look away.Our history held us.This history was based on a primeval lust that asserted itself.There was no use fighting it.And I suspect that neither of us wanted to.
The song was ending but we still held each other, gazing into each other’s souls, afraid to blink.At that moment I realized that I wanted him.
Another song started but we didn’t move.I couldn’t even recognize if it was fast or slow or if anyone was even within two miles of us.My heart was beating like it would explode.But there we were, holding each other, overwhelmed by what passed between us.It was then I realized that we had stopped dancing, that we were just standing there in the middle of the dance floor.
Loud music trickled into my ears until I awoke from my trance.Couples were moving all around us to wild rhythms.I smiled weakly and started to pull away, but that look of fire still burned in his expression.After a second, Alan relaxed and smiled, following me off the floor.Wordlessly we agreed to go outside.Maybe some cooler air would dampen this growing sense of need.
Music beckoned from the outdoor stage and we wandered up to the crowd.In spite of the blazing rock music, Alan came up behind me, wrapping me in his arms and together we swayed slowly, as if the band were playing a simple ballad.He was taller than me,
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