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“YES! Why didn’t you say so sooner?”
I feel my shoulders tense a bit and a shrug coming on. As confident as I’ve always made myself be about doing my own thing, there are certain areas of my life and myself that I’ve stuffed down. Like dancing.
My past.
Like how I feel about my body.
Ora’s gaze softens, like she can read my thoughts. “I am one hundred percent positive that you and that banging body of yours can move like a fucking goddess, Hell. Everyone here would be blessed to see it. And if anyone even looks at you funny, you know I’d murder ’em, right?” A hint of that drunken psycho from our jail cell glints in her eyes.
“Lead the way.”
Take a chance.
Let go.
Maybe it’s the wine, but I really feel driven as we shuffle to the middle of the already crowded dance floor, which is pretty much the entire apartment at this point.
Ora twists to the thudding rhythm of the song and she turns to me, holding my hand.
Her body is incredible. Dark skin. Perfect lines.
Everything I always wished mine could be growing up.
Ora bobs her eyebrows at me and offers me a sip of her drink as I find my footing, still a little awkward. I narrow my eyes at the cup in question. My dance partner pulls me close so I can hear her say, “Just a little something extra to help you relax.”
I take a sip.
Then Ora kisses me, right at the corner of my mouth, not quite on the lips, but the sensation releases an electric zing that has me sucking in a deep, full breath, followed by a long sigh dragging all of my tension away.
It’s subtle.
There’s no loss of control or numbing, just a wash of pure relaxation sweeping me into the flow of the mood. Any thoughts of insecurity can’t find a foothold as I feel my hips start to sway, closing my eyes to let the music take me in.
My dance instructors and classmates always complimented me on my grace, my natural talent. I always blew it off, just happy to dance as a way to release stress and express myself in private.
I never performed at recitals or performances.
I couldn’t do it.
Now, I let every bit of that pent-up frustration out.
None of my skill or ability even matters as we all move together as one entity.
Pure euphoria takes me for the ride, and it’s not the drink or the drugs. The energy carries us along, swelling with the climax of the song.
I look around and see it in every face around me. The two guys caressing, stroking each other’s arms, hips. A young woman, every inch of her covered in tattoos, lost in her own world. Ora, spinning from partner to partner, smiling from ear to ear and never taking her eyes off me.
Pure. Freedom.
The night blurs by in a sea of movement and faces, hands and voices, meeting so many amazing and accepting people. It’s everything I always dreamed Sanctum Harbor could be, that I never knew how to find.
Acceptance.
Regular people like me who are willing to live and let live. The vibe makes my heart come alive.
Well, that, and the crystal clear sexual tension that surges like lightning through the air.
As that energy takes more and more of the crowd into embraces, deep kissing, and in many cases writhing and moaning, joining of bodies, I slump back to my spot on the couch, stunned by the whole experience and worn out from the physical release of dancing.
