Gwen finished her second strawberry delight and rum frozen drink; she felt good. A hot sensation curled around them. Her hand felt delicate and warm under his fingers. She slid off her barstool, tugged on her thigh-length dress, and took Brock by the hand. Brock helped her down the steps that led to the dance floor, noticing her graceful movement. With precise steps in her Navy blue stilettos, Brock followed her to the dance floor.
Brock tucked her against him, moving his body quickly against hers. Gwen felt this was dangerous, what she was doing. The contact was almost too much; they had an intense attraction for one another at one time. They were two people who wanted each other in their not-so-recent past. A couple said they love each other to the point of saying, "I do." But now Brock
