Which means me, and her – standing there in that barely-there sequined dress, riding up to mid-thigh as she moves toward me, cut to give me a glorious view of her cleavage. She tugs the fabric down over her thighs again modestly, but it isn’t quick enough to stop the surge of blood to my groin. I shift and stand from the comfortable booth seats to greet her, pulling her close to kiss her on the lips lightly and let her go.
“Candy,” I say, practically purring her name. Even just the sight of her does something serious to me. “You made it.”
“Am I late?” she asks, and I chuckle, thinking of our last date when the tables were turned. “No, you’re right on time. I just got impatient because I wanted to see you so badly.”
We take a seat next to each other, the bench seat allowing plenty of room. Candy’s dress starts to slip up her legs again and she tugs it down rapidly, shifting position to try to stop it from happening again.
“You look amazing,” I say, running my eyes over her hungrily. “I love this dress.”
“It’s new,” Candy says, giving me a nervous giggle. “I don’t know if it fits as well as I thought it did in the changing room.”
“Oh, it does,” I say. I trace a hand over her exposed thigh lightly, just lightly, because if I do anything more I might not be able to restrain myself. “Believe me.”
Candy blushes and squirms. I’ve noticed she doesn’t know exactly how to take it when I compliment her. My intention over the next days, weeks, and months is to ensure that she has enough of them to keep her in practice. “Should we order some drinks?” she asks.
“Yeah, we should. I’ll stick to soft drinks tonight, to keep you company.”
“I don’t mind,” she says. “You can have something stronger if you prefer it.”
“That’s alright,” I say. “I feel drunk enough already.”
“Oh, did you have something to drink before I got here?”
I look at Candy evenly. “No, I didn’t,” I say.
I wait for the penny to drop, for the flush to come over her face. “Oh,” she says, then looks at the floor shyly and grins.
We order our drinks through the tablet, and the waitress brings them in before leaving us in silence again. In that brief moment, we get a glimpse through to the dance floor beyond, couples swaying in time with the music, grinding up against one another, their bodies pressed close.
It makes me think about what I want to do to Candy, and that gets me so hot under the collar I can barely keep up with the conversation.
I know I should wait before we go any further. I’ve already told myself that enough times. This is about making sure that Candy has a good time, that she’s comfortable with me, and with this. Being the older one in this scenario means I have the responsibility not to push things too far. Especially not given the fact that we can’t risk my daughter finding out just yet. We ought to take it slow.
We really ought to. But that doesn’t mean my body is listening to my head.
“It’s completely private here, you know,” I tell her. “No one can see us. No matter what we do.”
“I know,” she says, tilting her head towards me and then looking away shyly. “That’s why you picked it, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I say, acknowledging that I’m really stating the obvious. “What I mean is, we can do anything. Anything we like.”
Candy looks up at me. Her cheeks are flaming, but she doesn’t look away. “What would you like to do?” she asks.
That’s it. I can’t wait any longer. I can’t look into those eyes of hers, so wide and innocent and yet begging me to take action, and still keep my hands off her. I lean forward the slim distance between us and capture her mouth, drawing her into a deep kiss. When she leans into me I flick my tongue across her lips until they part and I can drive inside, claiming her mouth as mine, hardly stopping short of devouring her.
She moans and shifts even closer to me, and my hand goes to her thigh – and catches only skin, the dress riding up further and further up her leg, beckoning me to follow.
I should wait. Take her home. But no one would know. And with that thought, I know I’m lost.
Chapter Nineteen
Candy
I melt against him as he kisses me, our tongues tangling as his hand touches my thigh. It makes me want to move closer, closer – I don’t think anything could ever be enough. I want to climb inside him, to be so close that we no longer exist as two people. I want his hands over every inch of me. I want him touching all of me at once.