Blame It on the Music

coupledanceillustrationpaintingartdrawing-d185b9388080887b0fe28e8006579101_hAs she cut across the dance floor, moving deftly among the crowd, Jen was nearly to the other side when a hand reached out and pulled her back.  He was tall, and chiseled and sure of himself…she could tell by the way he wore his shirt just a tiny bit tighter than he should have, and the way he lowered his head and smiled at her with a grin that said he was up to no good.   He was not her type at all.  In fact, he was exactly the type that she and her girlfriends would sit at the bar and laugh about.  She smiled a polite, half-hearted smile and turned, intent on continuing on toward the bathroom.  He pulled her back again.  Any other night, Jen would have brushed him off and made her way back to her friends.  But that last drink was starting to take effect and her irritation as well as her inhibition receded ever so slightly into the background, drowned out by the relentless pounding of the music.  He put his hands out to the side and shrugged, as if asking her to stay.  She laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, but took his hand.  They danced together through the next three songs, each more intoxicating than the last.  He was a good dancer; she had to give him that.  As he moved her around the room she felt as if she were floating, the music fully inside her, and she felt heady and light and free.    Brushing her hair to one side and leaning back, she surrendered to the music and the man wasted no time in seizing the opportunity.  He pulled her in close and kissed her neck.  His face was warm and his touch gentle but strong.  She did not resist.  Jen stood and leaned into him, the full effect of the night’s drinks now upon her.  He pressed his mouth onto hers and the whole room faded into the distance.  The smell of his aftershave flooded her senses and she melted into him.  It felt dangerous and daring and exciting.   She didn’t know his name; had never even heard his voice, and she didn’t care.   After all, there was only so far this could go out here on the dance floor.   She kissed him back, hard, rebelling against every time she had ever played it safe.  And when their lips finally parted, she looked into his deep green eyes and touched his face softly before slipping away from him.  Jen didn’t look back as she moved toward the bar, back to her friends.  She wanted to hold on to her moment on the dance floor and pretend it mattered to the man as much as it had to her.  She wanted to pretend that he wouldn’t simply pluck another girl from the crowd that night.  She wanted to hold on to the way he made her feel.  Jen found her friends and they left the bar behind, but she would always have tonight and that little spark that would remind her, when life gets too serious, to let the music in and dance.

© Kelly Rainey and, 2015.  

*This story inspired the creation of more art.  Take a look.  But first…

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