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have it, too. Was it possible?
    Would things change forever, if we did something like that?
    We all ate dinner together, but when he took my elbow as we were leaving and murmured, “Want to go hit that club?” in my ear, I smiled, and felt my bottom clench in excitement. It was within walking distance of the hotel, and when we all parted, I grabbed his hand and started walking. We were dressed for dinner-nice, but not too nice. It was still warm, although the last of the sun had faded out of the sky over an hour ago, and my skin was just slightly damp with perspiration.
    His hand moved around my waist, massaging my hip through my skirt as we walked. We didn’t talk, but the air was charged around us, electric with possibility. I had no idea what might happen, but I hoped. I think he was hoping, too. The truth was, I’d never been inside a gay bar. In fact, I hadn’t spent much time in bars at all. Neither of us were big partiers, but we both had adventuresome spirits that longed for…more.
    It wasn’t anything like I expected. Somehow I’d stereotypically pictured something out of
The Birdcage
. What we found wasn’t very different from most other night clubs or bars. It wasn’t full of flashy costumes, although both the men and women wore more leather than the general population, and had more tattoos and piercings. Or maybe that was just the bar crowd.
    He brought a drink to a table I found near the back-something girly and fruity, because I hated the taste of alcohol-and we sat together, quiet, drinking and watching, through several songs. He ordered more drinks, and I didn’t object, although I was a lightweight. Two drinks and I was feeling warm and fuzzy, everything softening around the edges. Three drinks and I was bold enough to grab his hand and pull him onto the dance floor-another thing we didn’t do very often.
    The heat, the darkness, the music, all combined to move my body all on its own.
    It was me, but it wasn’t me, like some scene out of
Dirty Dancing
, grinding against him, eyes half closed. I felt him respond, his hands moving over my hips, my waist, down over my ass. It was like having sex in public, and I followed not just the music but the throb in my lower belly and between my legs, making me rock against the hard press of his thigh between mine.
    I don’t know how long we danced-I lost time, until he finally pulled me back to the table, where I collapsed into a chair, so dizzy it felt as if we’d been flying.
    I drank the rest of the now iced-down fruity concoction in my glass and ordered another. He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything as I sucked that one down in huge gulps. I felt like I couldn’t get enough of…anything, everything. When his eyes met mine, they blazed with an unbelievable heat as his gaze moved over my body. I pulled my hair up in my hands and gathered it at the back of my head, leaving my neck exposed to the breeze. The front of the bar was open, letting in the night, and everyone with it.
    “Having fun?” he asked and I just smiled in response, leaning back in my chair and spreading my thighs under the table, letting the breeze in under my skirt, too.
    “Sure looked like it.” The voice startled us both as a woman grabbed the chair between us, turning it around and straddling it as she put her drink on our table. “You’re a great dancer.”
    “Thanks.” It was all I could think of to say in my surprise.
    She winked at me, her eyes heavily made up in dark black. Her hair was dark, too, short and straight and shaggy, her lips bright red. She had a nose ring and her eyebrow was pierced, and a tattoo that, in the darkness, looked like a mangled butterfly on the top of her bare right arm. She wore a black leather vest laced up the front with nothing underneath, her body full and lush.
    “So, wanna go again?” She knocked her drink back-it was nothing froofy like mine. It came in a shot glass. Standing, she set it on the table, jerking her head toward