Met Her Match (Summer Hill 2)

“Hi, Terri,” called a teenage boy from behind them. He was with a pack of other boys.

“That dress is on backward,” one called.

“Will you dance with me?”

“With all of us?” another boy snickered.

The twins’ faces showed that they didn’t understand what was going on. Terri smiled at them. “Put that in the coat check, will you?”

She lifted her chin, stepped between them and walked onto the da

nce floor, exposing the backless dress.

Behind her was a very satisfying silence from the twins. When she reached the dancers, she looked over her shoulder. They were staring in openmouthed astonishment.

Terri didn’t dance much, although she was repeatedly asked. She was sure that if she moved too much she might pop out of the gown. Slow dances made her partner wonder where to put his hands—or he put them all over her bare skin.

It wasn’t until after eleven that Nate showed up. He was in a tuxedo, as perfectly fitted to him as a tailor could make it. His broad shoulders, small waist and heavy thighs were accentuated. Terri had never seen anyone as beautiful as he was.

She was fighting the hands of a seventeen-year-old boy as he tried to slide into areas that were covered by silk.

Nate picked the kid up by the waist and set him aside, then stood there looking at Terri for a moment before extending his hand to her. When she took it, the lights changed. A soft spotlight shone on the two of them and the rest of the room darkened. The music changed to soft and easy.

She didn’t have to be told that he’d arranged this.

The smile he gave her seemed to say that he knew what she was thinking. He pulled her to him, her back to his front.

They’d never danced together but they’d worked and lived together. Their bodies were well suited. Even in four-inch heels, Terri wasn’t as tall as he was, and their athletic bodies matched.

This is the other Nate, she thought. The one Stacy had told her about but she’d never seen.

She followed him as he spun her around, dipped her down, his arms supporting her. It was a ballet of a dance: elegant, graceful, refined.

Just when she thought it was over, the music changed to down and dirty rock and roll.

Nate pulled off his jacket, tossed it onto one of the twins, then loosened his tie.

The crowd looked at Terri. What was she going to remove? She raised her hands and turned around slowly. It was easy to see that she was saying that she had on only the dress.

There was a murmur around them: laughter, giggles, teenage smirks.

For all that Nate was big and covered in muscle, he could certainly move! His hips began to gyrate and Terri followed him. Grinding, hunching, moving together but not touching.

They went down, hips almost to the floor, never ceasing to move in the ancient way of a man and a woman, then they came back up.

The music changed again. Harder, faster. The audience around them was clapping.

Terri heard them, but she only saw Nate. Just him. It was like only he existed and no one else. Her body was doing the thing she dreamed of doing with him, had fantasized about. She was actually feeling his hands on her skin!

When the music stopped, Nate picked her up in his arms and she put her head against his chest. She could hear applause but only he mattered. His heart, the warmth of him. The skin of his neck was against her forehead, his hand on her bare back.

For a moment she thought he was going to carry her outside, but he didn’t. He set her down on the ground and when her feet faltered, he pulled her back against him. His hands entwined with hers. The soft, sweet warmth of them! Their hand-holding was as intimate as kisses.

Slowly, she became aware of being watched. The people from the lake were smiling in that way they do when they think they’re seeing True Love.

But the townspeople were frowning. A dance was one thing, but holding hands with the mayor’s daughter’s fiancé was quite another.

Terri put a smile on her face and stepped away from Nate. “Thank you,” she said loudly, then like Cinderella, she turned to flee the ball. Prince Nate belonged to a princess, not the boat girl.