(A word of caution: this fiction series may occasionally stray from a PG-13 rating to an R rating. Proceed at your own risk.)
If you missed Chapter 3, click here.
If you missed Chapter 3, click here.
She may have danced a couple of times with someone else; she couldn’t be certain. All she could see were bedroom eyes, a beard, and a smile that really seemed to grab her. As the evening wore on, and the gimlets further mellowed her, Sandy was no longer sneaking peeks; she was now casting lingering looks.
Once he said, “You caught me staring that time! Let’s dance again.” This time there was no conversation as they danced. The melted together and moved as one to the strains of “Please Don’t Go.” The proximity of his beard to her ear and his thighs to hers did little to lessen her lust. They danced to a couple more songs, and then he left her for the men’s room. Sandy didn’t expect to dance with him again—how much luck could a girl have in one night? While Rick was in the men’s room, Sandy decided to check on her friend. Liz was sitting on the end of the table, nursing her diet Coke, and swaying a little with the music.
“How are you doing? I didn’t mean to abandon you,” Sandy apologized.
“Don’t you worry about me; I’m doing just fine. I’ve been chatting and dancing with Mark, and with some people I know from the gym,” Liz replied. “This is much more fun than I anticipated. Didn’t expect to see anyone I knew. What about you and bedroom eyes?”
“Oh my God,” Sandy laughed. “He’s just so hunky I can’t stand it. Shhh…here he comes again.”
Before Rick reached their table, a sexy little blonde in a pink spaghetti strap top and cut-off jeans grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. Sandy experienced a few pangs of jealousy as the hussy (could she be anything else?) rubbed up against him as they danced. Realizing her feelings were ridiculous, given the situation—after all, they had just met tonight, danced a few times, and shared a few laughs, she knew there was no reason for jealousy.. Rick danced a second dance with the blonde, and then there he was at their table again.
Any subtlety Sandy had shown earlier was now gone. She was now all but openly drooling when she looked in his direction. He asked her to dance again, and this time they stayed on the dance floor until after the last dance of the night ended. They were still standing there in an embrace, while others were leaving the floor, and the band was packing up their instruments.
“I think the music’s stopped,” Sandy whispered, as she pulled her cheek away from his beard, in order to look into those incredible eyes. He smiled; then he kissed her—a long, slow, gentle kiss. They returned to her table. He suggested they leave together. Further discussion determined neither of them had brought a car. Finally they agreed to ride with Liz to HoJo’s for a snack.
Sandy couldn’t eat anything. She had been joking when she told Liz she wanted to drag Rick home with her—at the time she didn’t even think she had any hope of dancing with him—and here he was, offering to buy her breakfast!
Rick was sweet. They talked while he ate. He was very attentive and she enjoyed listening to his “tales of the highway.” He worked as a trucker. When he’d finished eating, Liz agreed to drive them to Sandy’s apartment, then Sandy would drive him home. He was actually coming to her apartment.
With the reality of the situation facing her, Sandy began to get a little nervous. She had never slept with anyone but her ex-husband, and the knowledge that this sexy guy, who was probably six or eight years younger than her 35 years, might end up in her bed—well, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea!
Liz dropped them off at her door. “If we can get right into my car,” she thought. Damn—she had left the keys on the kitchen table when Liz insisted on driving her car. She had no choice but to let them into her apartment.
Rick seemed very much at ease, He walked through the living room and the kitchen, browsing really, while Sandy looked for her keys. At first she was fine. She remembered having thrown them on the kitchen table after having removed the key to her apartment. But after searching the table with no success, she began to panic.
Here she was, fumbling around, looking for her keys. It had to look like a stall. Except that it wasn’t. The last thing she wanted to do was stall! She had an absolutely gorgeous hunk of younger man in her living room and was absolutely terrified. In the movies, you said something like, “Let me slip into something more comfortable.” In reality she was panicked and frantically searching for her car keys!
(to be continued)