Page 61 of Bourbon Bliss
George
Iwas getting awfully handsy with June. But as long as she was letting me, I wasn’t stopping.
We sat across from Cassidy and Bowie in a cute little Italian restaurant, Mama Lucia’s. It was the sort of place with tablecloths and good wine, but still felt a bit like sitting in someone’s dining room for a family dinner. We could hear the owners—a middle-aged couple—arguing in Italian in the kitchen, and the whole place smelled like garlic, fresh bread, and spices.
I had a hand on June’s thigh and the little vixen was wearing a skirt. I’d commented on her clothing choice when she’d come downstairs after changing, and she’d calmly stated that she wore skirts regularly, I just hadn’t seen her in one.
No shit I hadn’t seen her in one. I hadn’t touched her in one either, prior to getting my hand on her leg beneath the table as soon as humanly possible once we’d been seated. From the second she’d walked down those damn stairs, my attention had been glued to her legs.
Long, sleek, soft. I rubbed her leg a bit and let my hand slide higher. Above the table, she wasn’t reacting. I didn’t think her sister was aware of what I was up to. Bowie wasn’t stupid—I was pretty sure he could tell. I was also pretty sure he was doing the same thing—or more—to Cassidy over on their side.
I pretended not to notice. Guy courtesy.
This was the most skin contact I’d had with June since we’d started dating. The physical side of my last relationship hadn’t developed this slowly. In fact, none of my relationships had developed this slowly. A date or two, and I’d had them in my bed—or been in theirs. I was a physical guy. Touch and contact were a big deal to me.
But with June, I was enjoying the slower pace. I rubbed her thigh, but didn’t push too much. Had she been tipping her knees apart and inviting me in, I would have done so, enthusiastically. I would have found an excuse to skip the movie and taken her back to my place to have some fun exploring. But she wasn’t, and I was all right with that. I didn’t need to get in her panties to want to be with her.
Of course, I did want to get in her panties. I was hard as concrete for her and the temptation was real. I wanted to get to know that smooth body. Wanted to touch her, feel her. Let her touch me.
Squeezing her leg a little, I took a long breath. We’d get there.
“Do we want dessert?” Bowie asked.
Cassidy groaned. “I’m too full. That rigatoni was amazing.”
“I’m satisfied with the meal as well,” June said.
Despite Bowie’s protests, I paid for the four of us. Then I helped June into her coat, and we all walked down to the Bootleg Springs Theater.
Like all things in this town, it wasn’t your ordinary movie theater. It had been refurbished to look like something from the twenties. An art deco sign hung over the ticket booth, casting a soft glow over the sidewalk. Inside, the lobby was decorated in black and gold. They’d somehow managed to make it glamorous without seeming out of place in Bootleg. Maybe it was the smell of buttered popcorn or the moonshine selection served in mason jars, but it fit in perfectly.
We paid for our tickets but skipped the snacks. I could have gone for a bucket of popcorn, but I was trying to pace myself. And the lasagna I’d eaten had about done me in.
Bowie chose a spot near the back of the theater. I had a flashback to my high school days. This was exactly where I would have taken a date as a sixteen-year old kid. Perfect for a little mid-movie make-out session.
I gently tugged June’s arm as we made our way down the row. “Leave a seat between us and them. Give us some space to spread out.”
In other words, put some room between you and your sister so I can get a little naughty with you when the lights are low.
Bowie gave me a subtle chin tip. He knew how it was done.
We took off our coats, putting them in the extra chair, and sat.
“I’m not familiar with this movie,” June said. “What is it?”
“It’s supposed to be romantic,” Cassidy said.
Bowie and I shared a look. Not our cup of tea. But neither of us were really here for the movie.
“Oh good,” June said, her voice brightening. “I’ve been working on exploring my emotions through romantic fiction. Film is another medium for that.”
“Good for you, Juney,” Cassidy said.
After a few minutes, the lights dimmed. I slipped June’s hand in mine and stroked the back with my thumb. She watched the previews, her eyes intent on the screen. I watched her face, admiring the way the glow of light highlighted her upturned nose. Her soft lips. Her neck.
Leaning closer, I took a deep breath, smelling her hair. God, she smelled good. Fresh and clean, but still warm and inviting.
The movie began and from the first note of the opening song, I had a strange feeling. Cassidy had said romantic, and it certainly began that way. But a warning was going off in the back of my mind as we watched. I just wasn’t sure why.
