Page 69 of The Virgin's Dance
They reached the center of town.
“So,” he said finally, with an air of reluctance. “Where am I taking you?”
“The Esmerelda’s house. The house on the beach, where José and his family live. It’s … I’m not sure of the street number … let me find the address—”
“I know it,” he cut in sharply.
When they reached José’s beach house, all the lights were off and they almost missed it entirely.
Donna jumped off the bike clumsily. “Thank you so, so much! I don’t know what I would have done …” she said, still clutching his hand to balance herself.
“The pleasure is mine,” he said, interrupting her nervous gabbing. Then, pulling off his helmet, he took her hand to his lips and kissed it. His lips were gentle, just offering the whisper of a kiss, barely touching.
Electricity shot up her arm.
Shuddering, she finally looked up at him, but the magic of the moment seemed to have passed, his eyes no longer playful.
As quickly as he had arrived, he was off again, waving goodbye as he disappeared into the night.
She floated into the house, giggling, a heady feeling bubbling up inside her as she crept up to her little room, pleased now for its privacy.
Lying on the bed, still in her dress, she could still feel the sensation of his lip on her hand.
She took the hand he had kissed and trailed it down her belly, continued down into her wet panties. She was drenched with desire, and wondered if he’d been able to feel her heat as her legs had squeezed around his hips on the bike. She shivered at the thought.
She imagined his lips kissing the rest of her body, imagined them kissing down her spine and the inside of her thighs. Remembered the sensation of having her legs around his while he drove her home, in full command of the bike. She thought of what it would feel like to let him take control of her body too.
She thought of his rigid body as he stepped across the stage, the intensity of his gaze on her.
She orgasmed harder than she had thought possible, and more than once before the night was over. It was as if he had flicked a switch and finally all the lights had come on.
She hoped that she would be able to see him again, knowing deep down that he wasn’t done with her.
“Where were you last night?” José asked, practically throwing a breakfast place at Donna.
“Mmm … these pancakes are delicious, José.” Donna replied, more concerned with scarfing down the delicious food than answering his questions.
“My mamá wanted you to feel at home so she prepared them especially, but none of us knew you were going to sleep so long. I guess it’s not surprising, as you were out half the night.”
“I’m sorry if I woke anyone up. I was home by one.”
“Where were you?” José asked again.
“I went to a flamenco show, up in the mountains. Up in … you know … the gypsy part of town we talked about before,” she answered, pointing to the hill.
José turned a deep purple.
“Do you understand how dangerous that was? To go up there …” He could hardly get the words out. “You know how bad it is? How bad they are? My father is campaigning to get the camp shut down. That’s how bad it is. My father is a good man, a kind man, and even he has decided to give up on that community. They bring drugs here, and violence, and nothing good at all. I don’t understand how you could have gone!”
Donna sat in silence, shocked at what José was saying.
“He’s campaigning to kick people out of their houses?”
“They aren’t houses. It’s more like a garbage dump up there, a pit of addiction and crime and … and who was the man who drove you home? My father saw you drive in, Donna. Who was he?”
His voice had taken on a different tone now. He was stumbling with his English, and, was it in her imagination, or did Donna detect a hint of jealousy?
“While you are here, you are the responsibility of me and my family. My father stayed up all night waiting for you. He saw you come back with a man.”
