“I don’t care,” I said. “I think people should run with their instincts more. Don’t you?”
She shrugged, and I could see that she was becoming timid again.
“I know what we need,” I said quickly, grabbing my camera and setting it up to point against the wall beside the old jukebox. I hit record, then took her hand, selecting a slow song on the way by.
Cuddling her against me, the electricity between us was indescribable. I loved the way her long lashes fluttered as she looked up at me.
“Owen, this is nice, but I don’t think I want to be in the documentary.”
“I was thinking of a silhouette shot,” I explained. “Over contrasted so that we’re just shadows. Unrecognizable.”
“Then you should get a model for your girl,” she said quickly. “I’m not…”
I leaned down, cutting her off as I brushed my lips tenderly against hers. “Is this all right?” I whispered.
“Yes,” she breathed, and I felt her stretching up, hoping that I’d kiss her again.
Pulling us tightly together, our bodies moved as one, hips shifting to the music as our mouths slowly melted together. The feelings I had for this sweet, seductive girl were already too strong, but when she made a faint noise against my lips, I felt my lust kick in completely.
“Mmm,” she moaned, “How can you feel this good?”
“Magic, sweetheart,” I murmured, rubbing our noses together until she giggled. She was so soft and girlish that it drove me crazy.
By the time the song ended, her breasts were pressed tightly against my chest, as my hands wandered all over her hips and ass, appreciating her delicious curves.
“We should get back to work,” she said, stepping back a few inches. I already missed the feeling of her fingers on the back of my neck.
“Relax,” I said, “Unless you have to be somewhere, we have all night. We still have to bowl a little, too.”
Brynn’s eyes widened, the deep blue circles looking surprised. “Seriously? I’ve never bowled before.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “What’s your shoe size?”
I turned off the camera, and we went to the shoe rental area, outfitting us both with the traditional tacky footwear.
After I set up the lane, I coached her on throwing the ball, where to stand, and explained how the points completely did not count on a person’s first game.
I loved how easily she laughed, and the way she swung her skirt back and forth in time to the latest bouncy song.
It was admirable that she didn’t even pout when her first several shots were gutter balls. Then to the absolute surprise of both of us, she suddenly got a strike.
“Oh my God!” she squealed. “What did I do, and how do I do that again?”
Coming over to stand behind her, I guided her through the motion of throwing steadily while shifting her hips to the left so her right arm could stay straight.
“You shimmied with the song, so your shot was smooth,” I explained, guiding her through the motions. “Try it again.
After a few spares and a lot of laughing, Brynn blocked my path as I went to take a turn. “Thank you, Owen,” she said with a smile. “ I know I’m a bit quiet, but…you’re really nice, and I appreciate you giving me a chance.”
Pulling her to me, I caressed her lower back, our mouths gravitating to each other as we softly kissed.
There was something about Brynn that made me want to be gentle, so that I would never frighten her. I knew that some women were afraid of big guys, but I needed her to know that I would be nothing but sweet with her.
The lights went down gradually as another slow song came on. Out of the corner of my eye I saw
Arthur leaving the room, grinning to himself.
“Is that his signal that we’re supposed to leave?” Brynn asked.