BENNETT & TAYLOR | THE DANCE FLOOR
The feel of his arm around her shoulders felt good. It felt right. Bennett slid her own arm around his waist, leaning into him as they walked, the wine in her other hand. Bennett gave him a sideways glance as he spoke.
"You'll never be him," she assured him. "I don't even know his name." She thought he might be on staff at the newspaper, he might even have been a transfer from Terranox, but she did not know his name. "You're sexy, mildly talented, and go after what you want, and that kind of guy doesn't get his girl or his beer stolen from him." She took a sip of her wine then, still feeling like she was tingling from head to toe, but whether that was due to the alcohol or their intense make-out session a few moments before, the jury was out. Her candid honesty, that was probably due to the alcohol.
"And your kissing skills are passable," she teased him. "But I can help you practice," she winked at him. Pausing she pressed her lips to his again. A few long moments later she came up for air. "Maybe a little more then passable," she amended breathlessly. Pulling away from him, she surveyed the wine in her glass, then winked at him as she drained the last of it, then tossed it into the soft sand. Her hazel eyes met his and she slowly unzipped the front of the neon dress she wore, then shimmied out of it, tossing the designer dress into the sand with the wine glass, and standing in front of him in the strappy neon and black swimsuit . Her metallic, glittering golden scales along her hips and thigh were obvious now, the charm she had worn to make them look and feel like a tattoo while she was at Terranox, wasn't anything she needed anymore and in the pale moonlight, they sparkled more then normal.
"They aren't a tattoo," she said softy as his eyes drank her in. She walked back towards him, pausing as her hand came up to his face, whispering before her lips claimed his, "You can touch them if you want."