Page 110 of Marcello

She laughed and went with it.

Over the course of several songs, I kept my hands on her hips…

Until we were dancing with our bodies pressed next to each other, staring into each other’s eyes.

I could smell her perfume – something feminine and expensive – mixed with the clean smell of her sweat.

If I couldn’t smell her desire, exactly, I could see it in her eyes.

I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her in close for a kiss.

She pulled her head back just the tiniest bit, as though surprised –

And then let me kiss her.

Her lips were soft and warm.

I kept my tongue in my mouth and kept it lips on lips.

She returned the kiss with growing enthusiasm, but a certain amount of awkwardness – almost like she’d never kissed anyone before.

Then… tentatively… she opened her mouth to me.

I softly brushed my tongue against hers.

She tasted like strawberries.

She didn’t reciprocate – there was that inexperience again – but I didn’t care.

I felt like I was 15 years old again, kissing a girl for the first time.

It was…

Wonderful.

I felt innocent again…

Reborn.

We stopped dancing and just continued to kiss.

Time stood still.

The people disappeared…

The music faded away…

And all that was left was her soft lips and tongue…

And the beating of her heart next to mine.

We finally came up for air and went to go get drinks.

“What do you want?” I yelled over the music.

“Champagne,” she yelled back.

The crowd around the bar was now four-deep, but I knew how to get past that. I held a hundred-euro bill high overhead.