I stood in awe watching Edward; the boisterous crowd, the piercing music suddenly just haze, fleeing passed me at a tremendous rate. My already blurred vision somehow managing to perfectly focus on only him. His actions, his mannerisms, his fluid movements through the crowd were different. He was exuding a completely different kind of confidence. Here he was a man I had never seen, never had the chance to experience. Gone were his pompous gestures, his coy, sometimes hurtful remarks and his overly seductive nature he seemed to paint all over Miami. In their place, stood a man who seemed almost juvenile. His smile was innocent, his laugh contagious, his eyes full of vigor. He seemed happy; free. He was free. Showing me a side of him I could almost guarantee few had the privilege to revel in.
He was who I wanted to know.
I fell lost in his smile, nearly drowning in the depths of his eyes as he turned to meet my anxious gaze. In return I smirked, feeling the need to match his actions. Be free, Bella.
As if he could read my thoughts, he extended an open palm to me. I didn't hesitate; I couldn't. I let him take hold on my hand in his, leading me through the brightly decorated streets. His grip was blaize, nothing to firm, nothing more than what a friend would give to another. With a slight bit of disappointment, we weaved our way through countless vendors shouting in Spanish over the beats and rhythms of sultry music. As we walked in complete silence I couldn't help but to peer at him from under the safe curtain of my lashes. His hair was tousled in a sweaty mess, the streaked highlights nearly glowing in the flashy colorful bulbs that danced above us. The sleeves of his dress shirt were pulled to gather at his elbows, the few buttons at the neckline were undone, revealing his sun kissed skin, the sweltering heat nipping at his pores.
Even though his pull was strong through the crowd, I didn't feel the normal sense of control as he lead me through the streets of Calle Ocho. There was an unfamiliar balance. I was in uncharted territory, but somehow I wasn’t afraid. I was comfortable letting him show me what he seemed to know. All of my problems, all of my worries and concerns were left back in Miami. I grinned to his backside once again. I felt happy for once and didn't care if it would end in the morning. I felt I deserved to be happy, if only for mere hours.
Weaving between the massive crowds, Edward came to a sudden halt that nearly sent me colliding into him. Peering around him, I immediately gasped at what I saw. Men and women, more than I could count on any amount of fingers were dancing in the middle of the street. Their movements were sensual, sexual, the rhythm of the music seemed to consume them. Looking around the crowd my eyes flipped from the liberated dancers to the gawking crowd. It was as if the onlookers were watching them perform some sort of public display. However, none of them cared.
Free.
He was who I wanted to know.
I fell lost in his smile, nearly drowning in the depths of his eyes as he turned to meet my anxious gaze. In return I smirked, feeling the need to match his actions. Be free, Bella.
As if he could read my thoughts, he extended an open palm to me. I didn't hesitate; I couldn't. I let him take hold on my hand in his, leading me through the brightly decorated streets. His grip was blaize, nothing to firm, nothing more than what a friend would give to another. With a slight bit of disappointment, we weaved our way through countless vendors shouting in Spanish over the beats and rhythms of sultry music. As we walked in complete silence I couldn't help but to peer at him from under the safe curtain of my lashes. His hair was tousled in a sweaty mess, the streaked highlights nearly glowing in the flashy colorful bulbs that danced above us. The sleeves of his dress shirt were pulled to gather at his elbows, the few buttons at the neckline were undone, revealing his sun kissed skin, the sweltering heat nipping at his pores.
Even though his pull was strong through the crowd, I didn't feel the normal sense of control as he lead me through the streets of Calle Ocho. There was an unfamiliar balance. I was in uncharted territory, but somehow I wasn’t afraid. I was comfortable letting him show me what he seemed to know. All of my problems, all of my worries and concerns were left back in Miami. I grinned to his backside once again. I felt happy for once and didn't care if it would end in the morning. I felt I deserved to be happy, if only for mere hours.
Weaving between the massive crowds, Edward came to a sudden halt that nearly sent me colliding into him. Peering around him, I immediately gasped at what I saw. Men and women, more than I could count on any amount of fingers were dancing in the middle of the street. Their movements were sensual, sexual, the rhythm of the music seemed to consume them. Looking around the crowd my eyes flipped from the liberated dancers to the gawking crowd. It was as if the onlookers were watching them perform some sort of public display. However, none of them cared.
Free.
"Come on, let's dance," Edward smiled, yelling over the music.
Surprised, I could barely speak. I just shook my head in return, hoping he would understand. My thoughts of freedom quickly dismissed as I gulped back a few nauseous waves. No matter how free I wanted to be, both he and I were legally married. Ludacris images of him and I plastered on the morning gossip section of the Miami Times filtered through my brain. The disappointed stares of Alice, Cynthia and Jacob sent the bile in my stomach reeling. I peered once again at the dancers, so badly wanting nothing more to feel high that I had felt only merely moments ago.
Just when I thought I had made enough sense of myself to turn back towards the direction of the car; it happened. The faintest whisper of his fingertips tracing unknown illustrations into my open palm. His fingers glided over my skin smoothly, drawing random circles before fully engulfing my palm in his own, our fingers lacing together in a twisted symphony. No longer did it feel that of a friends concerned touch. His grasp was deep and sensual. I felt that no matter if I had really wanted to move, he wouldn't let me. Not out of ignorance, just simple want.
I turned towards him, watching as his muscles flexed uncertainly in his jaw, his stance rigid as we started walking hand in hand through the crowded street towards the dancers. He wouldn't meet my gaze as I continued to stare. And in some odd way I was almost thankful he didn't glance down upon me; the ever constant heat was already starting to fuel between my legs, I didn't need his heavy stare to add even more embers to the fire.
My head was reeling as he found a spot amidst the crowds of people, turning my body to face his, he slowly bent down towards me, his lips getting lost in my hair as his words fell upon my ear.
"Dance with me Bella?" he urged, pressing his body against me once again for the second time of the night.
"I .. I don't dance, I don't have any rhythm," I politely declined, my face flushing with embarrassment.
"Nonsense," he murmured, his fingers losing themselves from mine to find purchase against my hips. "Don't think Bella. Just feel."
His hands grasped tightly around my hips, pulling me towards him with the beat, slightly pushing me away only a second later. He repeated his movements several times, his eyes concentrated on mine, his gaze now not faltering.
"Move your feet Bella, just feel the beat, move with the rhythm" he whispered, his words nearly lost within the sensual music. Slowly, unsteadily I started to move my feet, pleasure ripping through me as Edward nodded his head in praise.
"That's my girl," he grinned, removing his hands from my hips, instead wrapping them casually around my lower torso, bringing his body flush to mine, his head hanging low to nuzzle into my neck. Our bodies twisted in a beautiful mold, as if they were made for each other. His hips mimicked mine, his legs twisted within my own, creating the most intoxicating friction I had ever experienced.
"Just feel me," he whispered into my shoulder. A low guttural moan escaped my throat as he pushed me backwards, my back resting against his strong palm, my hair tickling at the small of my back. Leaning forward, he littered my collar bone with wet, warmed kisses, his tongue tracing a line just as his fingers had on my palm earlier. Beads of sweat trailed down my neck only to be captured by his tongue.
“Perfecta,” he murmured into my skin, his lips letting out a slight small laugh.
With each bodily movement, I could feel the shift in his demeanor. I didn't know it could be like this; that he could be like this. I could feel the shift in his demeanor. For tonight I was no longer Mrs. Newton. Hearing my name escape from his lips was purse bliss, nearly better than the moans of pleasure I had heard from our previous meetings, those same moans that I kept filed away in my thoughts. It rolled off his tongue as if it were natural and it was the way things had always been.
“Stop thinking. I can see that you are.” His hot breath heaved in my ear. Despite the temperature outside, I shivered. “Suficiente."
My mind continued to spin as we danced. I couldn't place the feeling; whether it was from the heat, the tequila I had managed to drink or him. Yet, I was pretty sure I didn't care. Something felt right. This felt right.
I surrendered to the atmosphere, to the music, to him.
