A Tempting Dance: Part 1

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I stare at the clock hanging against my blue bedroom wall. 7:58 pm. I glance around the room, shoes and dresses strewn about (my mother would’ve had a heart attack)… nearly all of them never having even seen the outside of my closet for almost 20 years. I look back. Still 7:58.

My two friends, Jen and Kora, the kind of friends who knew me before children, graduations, and marriages… are due to arrive in 2, no, 1 minute time. And they are the reason, my blame, for this catastrophic explosion of clothing, jewelry and shoes.

It has been so long since I buckled short heels around my ankles, after unzipping an old friend: a remarkably well-kept, deep red dress I haven’t worn since before the divorce. My friends used to call this: “Julie’s ManEater Dress”. Ha. How crude.

I was so nervous to put it on. I’m older now, and over children and time, I’ve forgotten what it feels like to feel beautiful. Or sexy. I see it during my nighttime tv series binges…my face blushing as I drop popcorn onto my couch as the leading man enters the bedroom, gazing primally at the half-naked woman strewn across the bed. My thoughts trail off. It’s been 3 months since I took down the photos, keeping the ones up of my now-grown children, only discarding the images of the man I once vowed my life to. 3 months including years before, of ups and downs, and a whole lotta netflix. And earlier this week, I got the call:

“Julie, we are going out. Friday night, we are picking you up. I met a guy, he owns the Salsa Club Dario, he’s got us a table and it’s time you come out. Get dolled up, and we’re gonna teach them how mama’s throw down the dance floor” Jen said, with a laugh.

“Well,” I say to myself in the mirror, “Tonight, Miss Julie Hemlock, you’re doing it”. I have no idea what “it” is, or what it’s supposed to be, but what I do know is I am going out and having a good time tonight. I am going to dance,andsing,and laugh,and have fun for no one else but me. Because dammit…I deserve it. And plus…Netflix will be here later. I take one last look around my room, as the doorbell rings, leaving the comfort and safety only these blue bedroom walls know.

A half hour later, we pull up in our cab, Jen, after a few too many pre-game drinks, gives an enormous tip and a flirtatious “Call me later!” without giving her number. I step out, pulling down on my dress, somewhat self conscious of the amount of leg being shown. Was this dress always so short? I think to myself. My arm is pulled away from me, gently dragging me towards the dark doors of Club Dario, live bachata and salsa music pouring from its doors. I don’t know how to dance, I suddenly think frantically, as my friends open the door, dim red lighting and a vibrant energy pulling us in. ​Well,​ I think to myself, as I gaze at the dancers and minglers sparkled around us, light reflecting off the many drinks being served near the live band next to the dance floor, ​I guess it doesn’t really matter.​ I start to smile in this inviting energy, moving naturally and rhythmically beside my friends under the red light, as the owner himself, greets us.

“Beautiful ladies”, a stout, friendly looking man bellows over the music. “I’ve got your table right over here!”

He escorts us to a gorgeous table, placed right beside the dance floor. We sit on the plush chairs, as my friend chatsawaytotheownerandweorderdrinks.Quickly,theyarrive.A​ rewetreatedasVIPhere?​Ithought,asI glanced at Jen mingling with the owner.

I settle in and enjoy this atmosphere. Laughing and moving in my chair to the sounds of the live band. “Julie…” Kora whispers in my ear, “Someone’s looking at you.”“What?” I ask, nearly choking on my drink, my ears, not quite adjusted to the music yet.“Someone’s looking at you.” She whispers once more, slower this time.

My eyes follow her gaze, and the music seems to slow as I focus against the lights directly across the dance floor, meeting the darkest green eyes I had ever seen. The dim light poured over his skin, as he leaned back into his chair, intensely studying my face. He is tall, with dark hair, not overly buffed out, or trying too hard, but extremely well kept and built. He seemed deep in thought, holding his drink in his left hand, with a few other people and couples at his table, though not participating in the incessant inhaling of Patron shots. He had a warm, intense, energy that I could feel from even across the room…and his gaze off-put me. This man i​s certainly ​looking at me.

I turn away.“Let’s dance.” I say to Kora, as I stand and motion to Jen that we were moving to the dance floor.

I shake the image of the green eyed, dark haired man out of my mind. How old was he anyways? 30’s? My body moved with the music, quieting the stirring that was beginning to occur in me. I clear my head, and feel the pulsating of the drums and guitar move into my feet up to the top of my head. Was dancing always this fun? And easy? Why hadn’t I done this earlier? I laugh as Kora twirls me, feeling the movement in my hips that felt surprisingly easy in my tight red dress.

Jen meets us on the floor, carrying more drinks as she dances and hands them off to us. I’m certainly not a heavy drinker, however the dark room spinning with the sounds of movement and freedom gave me the all-clear in my head to have another.

“Jen,” Kora asks, “Who’s the guy at that table over there?” She nods towards where the mystery man had sat. However, he was now, nowhere to be seen.

Still dancing, I hear a deep, quiet throat clear beside me.

“Excuse me,” he muttered with a humble, and gruff, flashing smile. “May I join you?” I stare at the man, unable to speak as I hold my drink in hand and stop dancing.

After a brief moment, Jen replied, “Yes, she would love to.” dancing close to me and taking my half drank beverage out of hand, she whispers in my ear. “His name is Dane, his uncle owns the club.”Dane outstretched his hand, rough but gentle. They looked like working hands, to me.

I hesitantly put my newly freed hand in his, as he turned and led me deeper into the dance floor.

We passed bodies of moving dancers, laughing and swaying rhythmically to the beat, as I caught the very faint hint of this mysterious Dane’s scent tracing behind him. It was a deep but subtle scent, smelling of delicious agar tree and a musk I couldn’t place. It was a friendly welcome from the overbearing sweet colognes and sweat of the dancers around me. Why was I going with him? His face, body, energy, voice and eyes were hard to avert.

He suddenly stopped, and turned intensely to me.

“This spot… is the best view in the entire club.” He motioned for me to look upwards, and I did, I saw the light reflections off hundreds of crystals shimmering across the ceiling and walls, blocking the views of the dancers around us.

“If you stand right here, you can see it. I helped build this place. My family made this spot a secret, a place for us to go among the crowds to be alone. To dance bachata and feel free.” He said with a side smile as he gently moved closer, his scent and hum of his deep voice filling my head with stars and revealing a sensation I had repressed for a very long time.

We begin to sway with the music, my insecurities falling away as he gently led me in a slow, pulsating movement together. It was as if he were the boat, and I were its captain, his movements smooth and responsive following my allowance.

“What is your name?” I murmur, looking up at him through the crystal lights surrounding his face. “Dane.” He replied. “And I have been waiting to know yours.” I notice his jaw tensing, an intensity, and

kindness in his eyes. ​Could this man be nervous around me?

“Julie.” I smile, as his jaw unclenches revealing a side smile and small laugh as he continues moving with me, our bodies swaying ever so close together through each moment.

As we laughed and danced for either hours or seconds in this little private palace among the crowds, I could feel my breath leaving my body. It seemed to move farther away the closer we got, with every inhale of his presence and muscles moving against my skin. His intensity, his body, is yearning for me. I can feel it. This is a place where nothing that happens before matters, all that was present, was this moment, right now. I move my hands to his arms, feeling the muscles beneath them pulsing through his shirt. His hands begin primily exploring my body, shy at first, until I move closer to him and press his chest tightly against my breasts.​ Who am I?

Have I ever wanted someone so quickly, like this? ​It felt like a dream and I was suddenly worried I would wake up. Then as quickly as that thought came, his lips met mine and I tasted his hot breath against my skin.

“You are so beautiful.” He murmurs, as his lips trace past my own, across my jaw line, to my neck.

At this moment, I know I’m not in a dream. I am in heaven, wrapped in the arms of a man who wants to love me and ravage me in the same moment.

Netflix is gonna have to wait.