Grease Monkey Jive (31 page)

Alex’s blood was a live current, sparking and writhing. Her skin was hypersensitive, allergic to Dan’s touch. Where he stroked, where he kissed, where he licked and squeezed was seared with sensation, her face, her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, tender and itching and aching for more. Her body went psychic, anticipating his caresses before they fell to her, channelling his lust as it built and foretelling her own rapture.

Dan wanted Alex breathless, maddened, frenzied. He wanted her climbing and clawing and holding and panting. Provoked beyond reason and juiced from his touch. He wanted her rhythm to his rhyme, lyric to his song, no thought, no stop, only the inexorable ratchet of pleasure to make them both lose their places in the world and gain each other.

Their outer skins were discarded, hands fast fumbling, breaking away for buttons and zips, coming back together, to grasp, to stroke, to kiss, to push away fabric, to reveal private places not yet seen, to touch with reverence, explore with urgency and thrill.

Their outer voices were discarded too. They had no words, no whispered endearments, but a new language of airy, softened sighs and sucked in breaths, of sharp exhales and throaty hums, involuntary sounds that sanctioned their play and signalled their want.

They overheated in the warm kitchen, brought to the boil too quickly, too much simmer, too much steam, made unsteady on their legs. They sought the cool of the bedroom and, as they lay, the temperature of their touch came down, lost its blaze, let them spell, catch their breath, and consider each other.

They both knew this respite was only temporary, that the fire still roared, though the flames were tamed. They were only flirting with incendiary, not yet willing to push that edge, slowing the burn to heighten the pleasure of the inevitable explosion.

They found their voices as they prepared to lose the last boundaries between them.

“You are so beautiful, Alex,” a murmur, like ice against the curl of her ear.

“You make me believe it,” a whisper, cooling along the length of his neck. “I want you so badly.”

“You have me.”

“You frighten me. I’ve never felt this way. You make me feel out of control.”

“You don’t want that?”

“I’m scared you’ll stop.”

“I won’t stop, Alex. I won’t stop.”

Now his hand traced the rise of her breasts and ribs, the dip of her waist, the flat trampoline of her stomach and the valley between her legs. Following that path with his lips, his tongue, the scrape of teeth, the pressure of thumbs. The feather brush of his hair sent shivers over her body, up her spine, and spikes of sensation into her head, bringing her shoulders off the bed, pressing her heels into it.

When he found the tattoo, the tiny, bright-coloured, rebellious butterfly, Dan’s gasp had an echo in Alex’s throat. She felt his following laugh as a quivering in her centre and she arched her hips to him. He repainted the butterfly with his tongue, wet its wings, smoothed its legs, stroked its head, and rocked her hips in his hands to set it free.

“So perfect.”

She heard him as the crystal clear notes of a symphony ringing joy, but she was lost to words, given over entirely to feel. His heated skin, the tension in his arms, the moguls of his abdomen, the ripple of his spine. He was too close, too far, too heavy, too light, too nowhere, too everywhere. He was pressure and air; he was pleasure and denial. He was nipping, numbing, penetrating, and she flowed around him, molten like lava and caught on fire, crying his name.

When Alex remembered herself, she was wrapped in Dan’s arms, spooned to him, his damp brow tucked on her shoulder, his leg over her hip so she was backed to his front. When she said his name, he settled her closer still. When she said it again, he nibbled her neck. He’d lost his words and, while she craved to hear his voice, she was soothed by his closeness.

They lay together, their sweat cooling, their bodies relaxed utterly, their breathing aligning. Alex stroked her hand down Dan’s forearm, feeling the muscle, the fine golden hair. She found his hand and he clasped it as he found his voice, caffeine shot with rum. “I loved that.”

“That was,” she hesitated, her brain still half in dream, “mind blowing.”

“It’s only a beginning.”

“It was our best dance yet.”

Dan shifted, rolled Alex to her back, rose up over her, traced his tongue over her lips, teasing them open. One long lush kiss, hot with intention, and then he pulled back, left her lips lonely, looked down at her, the blue of his eyes dark and full.

“That was only a rehearsal.”

“I’m not in love with him. But this is the best dose of lust I’ve ever come down with. I’ve got it bad.” Alex hugged herself, sitting on the bench beside Scott. “It makes my toes curl just thinking about what we did before he dropped me off here. I’m not sure if he’ll have anything left to rehearse with tonight. If only Jeff could talk.”

“God, Alley cat! Who’s Jeff?”

Alex sat up straight, loving the fact she’d accidently shocked the usually unshockable Scott. “Jeff is the furkid.”

Scott face said, ‘just as well,’ but his lips said, “Didn’t Phil curl your toes too?”

Alex shook her head.

“Anyone else curl your toes?”

She shook her head again, her face now pinking with embarrassment.

“Ok, that’s way, way too much information. As long as you can dance with curled toes, I’m ok with it. What about Dan?”

“I think his toes are curled too. He’s more complex than I first thought. I’m his starter girlfriend. He’s never been seriously involved with anyone. Hard to believe and I know that might be a problem. He’s trying to be a reformed playboy. That’s what coming here in the first place and agreeing to dance for us was about. His own twelve-step program. I have to hope he can stay on the wagon.” Alex looked at Scott watching her in the mirror wall opposite them. He might have been taking a brief from a client he looked so intent. “As long as my eyes are open, right?”

“This is serious. Not just rebound?”

“This is serious. It’s not forever, but it’s serious for now. I think when I asked Phil if he was seeing someone else, I was looking for a reason to end it with him. I’m more upset about the time I wasted with him being unhappy than breaking up. And, you know, Dan and I have been fighting this thing between us almost since we met.”

“It’s why Trevor put you together. He saw it first.”

Alex nodded; she understood that now. “It’s more like a mad passionate affair than a rebound thing.”

“Then it’s going to end badly – you do know that.”

Alex hugged herself again. “It’s occurred to me that we’ll burn hard and burn out, but the heating process is going to be incredible.”

Scott waggled his booted foot. “Just don’t fizzle up till I’m back in shoes I can dance in.”

As Tuesday night’s disco class assembled, Alex said, “Sounds like a plan.”

“What about ‘She that must be obeyed’? What does Mommy Dearest think?”

Trust Scott to ask that question. “She’s sorry about Phil. Sorry he treated me poorly, but she’s also sorry she won’t have a daughter married to a banker any time soon.”

“Oh, harsh!”

“But true. She’s not being unkind, she’s just... well, you know what she’s like. She wants a better life for me. It’s not helping that she’s got Gran in her ear about Dan. Gran thinks he’s Heathcliff in a wetsuit, Mr Darcy in a Mustang. You can imagine how Mum feels about that. She’s started to refer to him as the grease monkey now; it’s like she wants to remind me he’s for right now and not for the future.”

“You’re really sure you can’t see a future with him?”

“He’s gorgeous and surprisingly sweet and he’s smart and funny and he fixes people’s cars.”

“Is that so bad? Someone has to do it.”

“He has no ambition, Scott. His idea of a great life is surfing and his mates.”

“Is that really so bad? Phil had ambition and look how he treated you.”

“I let that happen, Scott. I won’t let myself get too attached to Dan. It would be unfair to both of us in the long run.”

“You’re so sure.”

Alex grinned. “I am my mother’s daughter after all.”

Mitch let his board drift sideways to draw level with Dan as he paddled up. “Mate, are you ok? You just got wiped out big time. What’s going on?”

Dan pulled himself up, straddled his board, kept his eyes on the swell. He’d forgotten what it was like to get wiped out so badly it hurt.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“You got something else by the look of you.”

“Nah, just tired. Scott is really pushing us.”

“You know it’s ok to talk about her.”

He twisted around to face Mitch. “Fuck! Am I made of glass?”

“I’d be a piss poor best mate if I didn’t know what was going on with you. You’ll be a piss poor mate if you don’t give me the deets.”

Dan grinned. “I think I have a girlfriend.”

Mitch’s response had a cartoon character enthusiasm to it. “Shit yeah!”

“Go figure, huh.”

“You do know having a girlfriend creates certain obligations?” Mitch sounded like Fluke.

“Yeah, I’d be a bit rusty on those. I’ll need a mate to fill me in.”

“Good thing I’m here then, eh?” Mitch pontificated. “The biggies are exclusivity, commitment, and, ah, there must be a few more, but I’ve forgotten them. I’m better on the stuff you’re not supposed to do. That’s a long list but boils down to – you don’t own her and you don’t try to control her. She has to want to be with you, mate.”

“Listen to you,” said Dan, and the two of them laughed, making other surfers in the line up look across at them.

They let a decent looking wave go past. Dan floated round to watch it break. Alex was his first real girlfriend and Mitch was right, he had no idea what that really meant.

“Dan, you look a bit green, mate.”

“I’m friggin’ scared I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.”

“Story of your life, isn’t it? When have you not gone hard at something you wanted?”

“But what if I can’t pull it off this time? What if I screw up and hurt her?”

“Do you intend to see other women, sleep around?”

“God no!”

“Do you intend to lose interest in her or dominate her or expect her to be your cleaner or your mother?”

“Fuck no!”

“Well, what are you worried about?” laughed Mitch, a bit too heartily for Dan’s liking. “I’m glad you’re finding this so amusing.”

“Payback’s a bitch. About bloody time. You always had it too easy with the chicks.”

“Yeah alright, so I’m making up for lost time.”

Dan had his eyes on the waves building out beyond the line. “I’m worried about all the tomorrows. My tomorrows always had a limited horizon. I don’t know what tomorrow looks like when it’s a couple of months away. I give lust a good run for its money, but I don’t know anything else. It’s always been enough before. Now I want tomorrow, next month, next year. I want the whole friggin’ calendar.”

“See your point.”

“What do I do?”

“You’ll work it out. And if this thing is going to go somewhere, you’ll work it out together.”

The nose of Dan’s board bumped against Mitch’s. “When did you get so friggin’ wise?”

“When I worked out why Bel dumped me and what I had to do get her back.”

Dan pushed off Mitch’s shoulder. They floated further apart. “Have you?”

“Not yet, but the ball’s in her court.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t around to watch. I might’ve learned something.”

“Are you serious?” Now Mitch sounded like Ant, always the first to think someone was having a lend.

“Yeah.”

“Man. Everything I did I learned from you.”

“What?”

“You’re not such a bad dude.” Mitch turned to watch a set build. “Yeah, I know all the women, but you never kept them round long enough to do too much damage. They were plenty willing and you never lied to them. You told them straight up.” He sat taller, watching the break. “You’re a great guy until you have too much to drink and you want to fuck someone. I just paid attention to the other Dan, the one who’s good with people and you should too. Give yourself a break, man.” The two of them face-planted their boards. “You’ll know what to do. If Alex is square with you and doesn’t play nasty little chick games, you’ll be alright.”

The both started to paddle towards the wave. It was going to break to the left. Before they separated to attack it from different angles, Dan said, “I’m in awe,” and he didn’t mean the wave.

It was a lift called the Scarf. It meant Dan would hold Alex lying sideways on her hip behind his neck and along the length of his outstretched arms like a long scarf. Then he’d spin quickly twice, release her, and wind her around his body to bring her feet to the floor.

Scott knew it was impossible to do this move if you were laughing. The girl went all sloppy in the middle, a limp dish rang instead of a silk banner and the boy couldn’t turn, or turned the wrong way, ended up scared he’d drop the girl, and clutched her all wrong. You needed to have trust in your partner to do adagio work, like Scarf and Bird, and laughter was often the most polite form of telling a partner, ‘I don’t trust you’.

Dan and Alex weren’t laughing, though Alex looked radiant and Dan wore a kind of spaced-out ‘how did I get here’ grin. They had no trouble mastering Scarf or Bird or any of the other adagio moves Scott devised for them. Of course, Alex already knew them and was a superb partner, but Dan appeared to feed off her confidence in him and that was all he needed to get the hang of the new moves easily.

Not that Scott was planning on putting too many lifts in their routines, certainly no Birds – nothing that was too risky. But learning them had helped build their trust in one another.

That sometimes shy stiffness, the polite patience they’d shown each other in the beginning had been entirely burned away. Tonight their moves were deeply attuned to each others, liquid, languid, almost dreamy. They moved as equals for the first time. Not that Dan had been uncomfortable with Alex pulling at him, pushing him, physically bossing him around the dance floor. Most men would have baulked at that. Dan clearly wasn’t most men. He was better than most.