*

They were on the edge of the dance floor, surrounded, boxed in, and his arms were around her. His face was close. "Just move". He did just that against her. She stared, apprehensive, in love, scared, but in love. Someone bumped her hard from behind and brought her up against him, curves to angles. Her hands gripped his shoulders, her breath came fast, eyes on his, dark, wide. Through all the scents - the clash of perfume, sweat, spilled drinks - he smelled only her. Fresh, sweet, innocent. He clasped her to him, hesitating, hesitating, drawing out the moment, the now, the ache and the anticipation, till they were reeling from it. She smiled at him, soft, sweet, shy. Floating, drifting, gliding. Just a little more...