Under the Mistletoe

The Start of Passion

As we make our way to the club, the music starts as a dull thud in the distance, steadily growing louder with each step. The line outside is short, and before long, we’re through the door, stepping into a whirlwind of vibrant lights and pulsing beats.

The interior of the club is electric. Neon lights cast colorful shadows across the space, illuminating the dance floor where bodies move in sync with the rhythm. To my left, a long bar stretches along the wall, its surface gleaming with an array of bottles that reflect the kaleidoscope of lights. Behind the bar, the bartender mixes drinks, laughter and chatter blending seamlessly with the intoxicating music.

Scattered around the dance floor are plush booths, each one a cozy enclave amidst the chaos, where friends gather to sip cocktails and enjoy the show. I can see groups animatedly chatting, their faces flushed with excitement, each laugh punctuated by the thumping bass.

Ben leads me to the bar, and I follow, glancing around with a mix of excitement and apprehension. What am I doing here? Clubbing feels like a young person's game, not for someone my age—though I suppose I’m technically still young. He calls out to the bartender and orders our drinks, his arm sliding around my waist, a gesture that sends a delightful jolt through me. The warmth of his touch is unnerving and intoxicating, making my heart race.

It’s a little embarrassing to admit that I’m still a virgin. My teenage years were consumed with caring for my mother after her cancer diagnosis. She always pushed me to make friends and explore relationships, but I was too terrified of losing her to truly let anyone in. Now, I regret not listening to her. My father changed after her diagnosis, and I can’t help but suspect that he was cheating with Jennifer. He never attended my mother’s appointments, leaving me to navigate the darkness alone.

“Are you all good?” Ben asks, pulling me from my thoughts. I nod, focusing back on him. His eyes hold a glimmer of concern, but he smiles and gestures for me to follow him.

He hands me my drink, and I take a tentative sip, the alcohol warming me from the inside. He guides me through the crowd to a small empty booth. As I slide in, I’m surprised when he sits beside me instead of across. We sip our drinks in silence, our eyes scanning the scene. My gaze drifts to the dance floor, where bodies writhe and grind, and a wave of heat washes over me—desire and anticipation mingling in my veins. The alcohol is kicking in, and I feel bolder.

“Are you one for dancing?” Ben leans in close, his warm breath tickling my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

I suppress a shudder and call back, my voice nearly lost in the cacophony. “I don’t know; I’ve never really tried.”

His brow furrows in surprise. “You’ve never been to a club?”

I flush bright red, scratching the back of my head nervously. “No, not really. I’m a little weird, okay?” I laugh awkwardly.

He beams at me, his laughter deep and infectious, and I feel a rush of warmth pooling low in my belly. “Want to try?” he asks, offering his hand. My heart races at the thought, and I decide to go for it. Why not? He seems genuine, and tonight is about celebration.

I take his hand, and he pulls me into the thick of the dance floor. The moment we step onto the floor, we’re swallowed by the energy of the crowd. I’m bumped and jostled, but Ben keeps me steady, his grip firm as he draws me closer. He stops suddenly, and I’m pressed against him, my body igniting with heat. I swallow awkwardly, but there’s something intoxicating about our proximity.

Tentatively, I start to sway to the music, feeling the rhythm pulse through me. At first, I stumble a bit, unsure of my footing, but the alcohol gives me a surge of confidence. I begin to sway my hips, moving them in time with the beat, grinding against him as I lose myself in the moment.

Ben watches me with a mix of admiration and surprise, his eyes widening as I find my groove. I can feel the heat radiating between us, an electric current that makes my skin tingle. His hand finds my waist, and I can’t ignore the burn where he touches me.

“See? You’re a natural!” he encourages, leaning in closer, his breath warm against my ear.

I bite my lip, feeling a surge of boldness as I lean into him, our bodies pressed together, the world around us fading into a blur. I see his eyes drop to my lips, darkening with desire, and his grip on my hips tightens possessively. I continue grinding against him, losing myself in the intoxicating heat of the moment. His scent envelops me, warm and inviting, and I can feel a steady throb between my legs, a pulse that matches the beat of the music. At this point, I would willingly lose my virginity to this gorgeous man. Why had I held onto it for so long?

Every inch of my body is alight with need, and I’m sure I can feel his erection pressing against my backside as I push into him more. At one point, I think I hear him groan, a low sound that sends a thrill through me. Suddenly, he spins me around, pulling our fronts flush against each other.

“Slow down, tiger,” he murmurs, his voice gruff, sending shivers down my spine. I fight the urge to melt against him, my eyes locked on his plush lips as he speaks. God, I want to kiss him.

We freeze for a moment, everything else fading away as we lose ourselves in each other's stares. His head dips, his lips just an inch from mine, and I can barely breathe, anticipation hanging thick in the air.

But just as our worlds are about to collide, someone crashes into us, breaking the spell. Ben keeps me from falling, his hands steadying me. “Hey, watch it!” he booms, his voice cutting through the noise.

My heart races, adrenaline coursing through me as a younger teenage boy spins around, glaring at us. “Get off the dance floor, you old bums!” he yells, clearly drunk.

Ben tenses beside me, his jaw tightening. “What did you just say?”

Scared of the brewing tension, I place my hand on Ben's chest and push him back slightly. “Let’s go. The noise is giving me a headache,” I call out, desperation lacing my voice.

Ben remains tense for a moment, his eyes fixed on the kid, but then they finally land on mine. He gives a strained smile and guides me away, ignoring the taunts from the drunken teenager. Once outside, the cool night air wraps around us, a refreshing contrast to the heat of the club, but I can still feel my cheeks flushed with the memory of desire.

The walk back to my hotel is quiet, the chill clearing my mind from the haze of lust. My thoughts race, and I can’t help but feel embarrassed by how readily I had considered giving myself away. We stop at the door, and I turn to face Ben, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Thank you for walking me here,” I swallow nervously, my voice barely above a whisper.

He grins at me, a warmth in his eyes. “Thank you for an enjoyable evening,” he replies softly.

I stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. After a few moments, Ben’s grin widens, and he points above me. I look up, and my heart leaps—mistletoe. My face burns as I return my gaze to him, and I see the playful glint in his eyes as he steps closer.

“Mistletoe,” he whispers, his voice low and inviting.

I nod, too nervous to speak, my eyes glued to his lips. It feels like hours as he slowly closes the distance between us, and then, in a heartbeat, his lips are on mine. The kiss starts soft and slow, a gentle brush that sends sparks of electricity through me.

But then, as if something ignites within him, Ben takes over. His kiss deepens, becoming urgent and passionate, as though he’s been waiting for this moment. He backs me against the wall, his body pressing firmly against mine, and I can’t help but respond, melting into him as my hands find their way to his hair, pulling him closer.

The world around us fades completely as we lose ourselves in each other. His tongue brushes against my lips, and I part them, inviting him in. The kiss is a whirlwind of heat and urgency, a desperate exploration that leaves me breathless. I can feel his hands gripping my waist, anchoring me as he devours me, kissing me like his life depends on it.

The desire from the club surges back, fierce and overwhelming. I clamp my legs together as a throb begins deep within me. The slickness of my heat dampens my panties, and I can feel my n*****s hardening against his chest. A moan escapes my lips as I tighten my grip on his hair, pulling him closer as his mouth trails down my neck, biting and sucking with a delicious intensity. I’m thankful for his hard body against mine; otherwise, I might have collapsed from the pleasure coursing through me.

Desperately, I pull his head back, locking my lips to his again. His tongue soon devours my mouth, igniting sparks throughout my body. Just as the heat builds, and I feel his hand cup my breast, a voice shouts from nearby: “Get a room!”

The taunting call is enough to rip us from our blissful moment. I gasp, pushing Ben away from me, my eyes wide as they fall on a group of teenagers walking past, their laughter echoing in my ears. I flush with embarrassment, my heart racing.

“Umm, good night, Ben,” I mutter awkwardly, my cheeks burning.

He gives a strained smile, his eyes still dark with desire. “Good night, May.”

I don’t wait for anything more. I rush inside, my heart hammering as I close the door behind me. Did I hear him call out to me, or was it just my imagination playing tricks?

Once inside my room, I spot my bags all packed and ready for tomorrow’s departure. What a night of celebration this has turned out to be! I smack my forehead in frustration. Why didn’t I get his number?

Sighing in agitation, I sink down onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. Damn it. I can’t shake the feeling of regret mixed with exhilaration. The memory of his lips on mine, the heat of his body, it all lingers in my mind like a tantalizing dream. Either way, I know I won’t forget this night anytime soon.