“Dancing in the dark...” with strings and full orchestra and no vocalist...just lovely music and Dennis.
“I hope you can keep up, little girl.” He stepped into the rhythm as he pulled her close, so close she felt every hard plane of his magnificent body. His arms held her tight as his legs moved. Elegant. She fell into the music, led by him, the way real people danced, the way it was supposed to be, only close, so close she could actually feel his heart beating.
He smelled like English Leather. He moved with power. Grace. Like a lion. Like a pro. Together they covered the dance floor with such ease, moving as one being, so close, so very close, so thrillingly close Carly found herself transported. Somewhere else, not the garish Italian-American hall, but maybe a movie set. Maybe even in a different time.
And it was pure magic. Sensual as they slid along each other’s bodies, as his hand moved up her naked back so lightly, so powerfully, so tenderly she made no protest, no thought other than that she wanted to dance like this forever. In his arms. No missteps. No stumbles. He led, she followed, just the way it should be.
The floor emptied quietly. People stole to their seats, watching the dancers, smiles on their faces that Carly could see as they passed by in a whirl.