29. Jeanie
29 /
jeanie
Hot Zombie Dance Date
Nathan appears unsure about the direction of this conversation. I’m unsure too. This is all new.
I may have marched toward the territory of no regrets , but last night I took a shortcut by skydiving off a cliff. I landed with open legs, where Nathan promptly went down to meow-meow town. Now I have feelings for my divorce-cation fling.
Nathan’s posture straightens. He pretends to adjust the lapels of a suit jacket, even though he’s brawny and shirtless. “The lawyers are listening.”
“Could we hang out today, no agenda?”
He mock-gasps. “Jeanie Benton, are you asking me to be your real wedding date?” He clutches fake pearls as his mouth opens in the shape of an O.
“As friends is fine too,” I rush to say. Because I don’t want to assume anything, I clarify. “But only for today. Tomorrow, we’re back in destruction mode. Deal?”
“If you still think I only want to be your friend, I need to make you come harder. ”
“Is that possible?” I giggle.
“Consider it my new mission.”
He releases a calculating laugh before tickling me until I cry for help. The tussle deviates. Somewhere along the way, tickles become caresses, and then caresses become kisses.
His strong fingers curl inside me, pressing against my wall. Their moves are as skilled as Nathan’s dancing.
By the time he’s done, I’ve come again.
The total? Maybe it’s best to recount after our first official date.
Sophia and several bridesmaids are in organization mode outside the hotel.
With a clipboard in hand, Sophia directs wedding guests onto tour buses. When everyone’s accounted for, we’re whisked to a marina in South Beach where several party boats await.
Nathan and I sit beside each other on the open-air top deck.
In front of everyone, he’s usually in flirty-fake-boyfriend mode, but with our new agreement, he seems nervous. If I weren’t so nervous too, I might think it was cute. The issue is, anything we do today can’t be confused as fake dating. For the first time, we’re being completely real.
When the length of his arm presses against mine and he takes my hand in his, a life ring has been tossed in my direction. We grin at each other. Finally tethered, we’re back on solid ground, laughing and teasing. This time, though, it’s all for us and no one else.
The boat motors beyond the marina to Star Island. Over a microphone, a tour guide rattles off the names of several celebrities who have lived there.
“I danced in a music video filmed on the island,” Nathan says like it’s no big deal.
“What!” Sophia exclaims when she overhears. “This is so unfair. I can’t even get Roman to take dance lessons for our first dance.”
He fills in the backstory. “I was on set with a friend. They needed extra bodies for a club scene. It was my first big dance job.”
“That’s incredible. Isn’t that incredible, Roman?” Sophia shoves his arm, urging him into the conversation.
Roman’s expression sours. “Incredible.”
“I’d be happy to give you some first-dance pointers,” Nathan says. “I’m classically trained.”
“That would be amazing! Yes, help us! Do you think I should do something fun with the bridal party too? Like a flash mob? Maybe that zombie song or the finale dance from Dirty Dancing ?” Sophia’s hands flutter with excitement at each new idea.
Roman mutters under his breath.
Nathan beams. “It so happens I know all those dances.”
“Me too!” I playfully nudge my knee with his.
Simultaneously, Nathan and I launch into zombie mode. With dead-faced expressions, our shoulders pop in repetition before our hands swim through the air. From a sitting position, we act out the dance moves together.
“Looks like dance practice with Mini-Wolf paid off.” Nathan rolls me into a hug when we finish.
“That’s not the only thing I practiced for,” I whisper.
“We’ll reenact every naughty thing later,” he says softly, holding my gaze with a wicked glint. He lifts my hands to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. It’s an unspoken promise for what’s coming.
I snag my bottom lip with my teeth, considering how I’ll survive the day without jumping him. Would it be rude to hump my date at my ex-husband’s wedding event?
The boat tour continues along the Venetian Causeway, circles Fisher Island, and then cruises Government Cut. After passing the downtown skyline, the boat anchors at the Nixon Beach Sandbar in the middle of the bay. At least fifty boats unrelated to the wedding are already here partying. Our boat ties onto the other boats until we form a chain.
Nathan lifts his shirt over his head like an underwear model. I’m enthralled as each sculpted ab is revealed. When he twists and tosses his shirt, all the muscles in his tanned back flex.
“Race you to the sandbar.” From the edge of the boat, he backflips into the clear teal waters with a splash. He surfaces in the bobbing waves and rakes his fingers through his soaked hair.
I cannonball off the stern, plunging nearby with a splash. As soon as I break through the water’s surface, our swimming race for the long stretch of sand begins.
Our afternoon date unfolds in spectacular rom-com movie fashion. It’s the fun part where scenes flash in a quick montage of moments, set to a Latin dance song.
Scene one.
We eat lunch from floating food trucks. I squirt Nathan with mustard. He dodges away, and the yellow globs land on Freddie. Hungry seagulls swarm him.
Scene two.
Nathan and I attempt paddleboarding, but I don’t have the required balance. I fall into the water several times before giving up. Eventually, seated at Nathan’s feet, I navigate as he paddles between the boats. Dolphins play in the sparkling waters nearby.
Scene three.
Nathan reapplies sunblock all over my body, drawing shapes like finger paint. I do the same to him but take my time. When things heat up, I splash him and run. He chases me, slings an arm around my stomach, and tosses me into the water. We’re confronted by a devil ray and escape in the opposite direction, screaming for our lives.
Scene four .
On the sandbar, Nathan and I teach the Dirty Dancing finale dance. Dex’s moves are a little stiff. Freddie adds his own flair like a seasoned stripper that makes everyone uncomfortable. The bridesmaids have a dance-off with the groomsmen. Sophia judges but claims everyone the winner. Roman, like a creep, hides under the shade of the boat’s awning .
Scene five.
The sun sinks behind the Miami skyline, creating a port-wine-cheese-colored sky. Massive cruise ships sail past, heading out to sea. Cruisers wave to us as they sip frozen tropical drinks from a conga line.
The remaining party boats are pimped out with twinkling lights. Underneath the hull, neon running lights illuminate the bay. Kids laugh and play with fizzling sparklers. They draw hearts in the darkness.
Finally by ourselves, Nathan and I practice the Dirty Dancing water-lift scene. With his hands on my hips, I launch from the water, my body tight and arms spread like a bird. Because of his incredible strength, I’m able to fly. For a few seconds, at least, before I dive into the water, taking him with me. We surface in each other’s arms.
End montage with the sound of a scratching record.
The party, the fireworks in the distance, the boats, and all the people blur into the background. Droplets of water bead at the tips of Nathan’s eyelashes, then slide down his face and over his wet lips. I ease closer, wanting to taste them.
“Why do you even like me?” I ask.
I need reassurance. Even after this amazing day, it’s still unfathomable someone like him would like or want me. I have no illusions about the imperfections in my personality, the emotional baggage I carry, how the world sees my curvy body, or even our small age difference.
“How could I not?” He meets my gaze. “You’re a million magnificent things. You’re strong, beautiful, and fun. You’re a scary-brilliant businesswoman, and your body is motherfucking fine.”
I laugh.
“And I want to know you better. You’re trying to be the bad guy at this wedding, but you’re not. You could never be. I’ve been waiting for you to realize it.”
“Wait a second, are you secretly a good guy?” I ask.
“Absolutely not ... but I wouldn’t mind being the right guy.”
The right guy. My heartbeat trips.
When our lips touch, Nathan tastes like saltwater and coconuts. His kiss is tortuously languid, like he wants to take all the time in the world.
His splayed hands glide down my back and beneath the water. They dip into my bikini bottoms, where he grips my ass. I hook both legs around his waist as we bob with the waves. There isn’t much between us, so his erection is hard against my center. At this moment, I want nothing more than to feel him inside me.
He breaks away, his breathing heavy, and his nose slips over mine. His eyes are glittery and full of life.
I feel the same when I’m with him, like anything is possible, and my heart is brimming. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
I swallow and catch my breath. This is what a kiss should feel like, hot and sensual and all-consuming. He kisses me again. The intensity is the same every time we touch.
Nathan’s thumb traces my bottom lip. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
“So, take me,” I say in a husky tone.