AlvernoINK Spring / Fall 2017 - Page 20

and fogging up her sight.

“Tell me about your film.” The woman insists.

“Tell me your name and I’ll tell you about my film.”

The woman raises a brow. “Are we not allowed to be strangers?”

Madeleine shakes her head.

The woman’s laughter is wholesome, entertained. It belongs with the music.

“Why is it so important to you?”

“I could say the same.”

“You’re incorrigible.” The woman says, not unkindly. “Has no one told ‘no’ in your entire life?”

Madeleine would later blame it on the booze or the darkness of the booth; she slides next to the woman, nearly in her lap, and parts her thighs with her hand, tantalizingly close.

“Are you going to be the first?” She murmurs in her ear.

The woman is fixated on her lips, breathing her air, and it’s a damn shame they’re still in public. Madeleine wants to trace the woman’s pulse point with her teeth, stroke the softness of her skin, and lose herself in the radiance of her gaze. However, under incessant watch, she settles for gliding her nails along the woman’s neck and up the back of her head, watching her shiver, intoxicated. Her lips ghost over the woman’s.

“Constanze.”

And then Constanze catches her mouth, kissing her soundly, sweetly, and Madeleine softens against her. She drunkenly chases the cool tobacco on Constanze’s tongue, sliding between her lips, fingertips tingling as she cups her jaw to hold her in place. It’s wet and messy and perfect, and Madeleine rubs her thighs together to stop from climbing into Constanze’s lap. Pleasure licks up her skin; Constanze grasps her hip and Madeleine’s hat falls crooked as she’s pulled closer and kissed within an inch of her life.

Roaring applause rips them apart in a flashbang of reality.

Elsie is preening in the spotlight, curtsying and flaunting her slender legs with spun-top twirls of her dress. The band, with some of them needing a swift hit to the ear in order to refocus away from her, shuffle their notes and ready for the next set, all the while with the audience lingering persistently in their hunger, poised to carry on. Madeleine turns to Constanze just as Constanze looks to her, and then they’re both falling over each other in relief, giggling like children.

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