When she saw me, lingering at the end of the dancing, she lunged for me, dragging me into the melee, her hands burning my skin as soon as they touched me, her hair floating wildly around her as we moved.
“It’s really simple,” she spoke close to my ear. “You just shift any which way you want as close to the beat as you can, but remember, no one cares.”
I cared. I cared right now about how I was feeling, wondering when was the last time I felt this free. I cared about not losing this feeling now I’d had it.
Marie’s arms went round my neck as the song changed, a slower tune about a lover who’d lost everything. Automatically I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her close to me, wondering when was the last time I felt this close to someone.
Maybe never. Maybe when Rachael and I were young and sneaking around our parents – or so we believed. They were pleased when we got together and encouraged us to get married as soon as possible.
We were too young.
“What are you thinking? Martians can see the frown on your face right now.” She lifted a hand to smooth out the lines on my forehead.
“You’re so complimentary.” I pulled her a little closer, her breasts pressing against my chest.
“I’m truthful. So if I ever do compliment you, you’ll know I’m not blowing smoke up your arse.” Her fingers grazed my face on the way down to my shoulder.
“Do you think you’ll be complimenting me much in the next few days?” My hand went higher up her back, cupping the back of her neck.
“Eleven days. Is that how long you’ve got left here?”
“Eleven days. Twelve nights.” Suddenly it didn’t seem long enough. “I’m wondering how I can fill those twelve nights?”
Her head tipped up to look at me. “Tours of the city. No doubt you’ll need to work. Late night shopping. Maybe a show on Broadway. Maybe a show off-Broadway. You’re in the city that never sleeps.”
“And you’d rather be on the West Coast of Ireland.”
“I’d rather be in a bed.” Her hand was untucking my shirt from my trousers.
“Doing what?” My cock was hard. The whisky – not enough to cause whisky dick, thankfully – had dulled any inhibitions. I’d spent the last day studying the woman now in my arms, wondering what it was like to hold her, kiss her.
Fuck her.
I wondered how she’d taste on my tongue and how she’d say my name when I made her come. I wondered what it’d take to impress her and make her want more.
“Not sleeping.” Her eyes danced. “But you’re a lawyer and I’ve sworn off lawyers.”
“Can I ask for your reasoning behind that? I’d like to present my case.”
Luckily she laughed. “I don’t want to talk about work outside of work. I don’t want to be my father.”
The song changed, more upbeat now, so I took a punt and swung her round on the dance floor, finding some skill from somewhere.
Marie laughed, making me look better than I was by being much more competent at this.
“I don’t think you could ever be anything but you.” I pulled her back close to me. “I promise I won’t talk about work. I don’t know what else I have to talk about, but it won’t be work.” Was I trying too hard?
She stilled, her arms back around my neck. The rest of the dance floor carried on around us. “We could just not talk.”
“Then what do you propose we do?” My hand stopped on the side of her body, in exactly the right spot for my thumb to graze the underside of her breast.
“Take me back to your hotel and I’ll show you.”
Bar tab paid, her hand in mine as we navigated our way through streets that were testament to the city that wasn’t going to sleep any time soon.
The concierge opened the door of the hotel for us, the receptionist recognising me so my key was ready for me to grab, the buzz running through my veins having nothing to do with work for a change and I hadn’t even kissed her yet.
We were the only people in the lift, the doors closing shut at exactly the same time I kissed her, her back to the lift wall, our hands greedy as they covered new ground.
