The tall man with broad shoulders eased his way in the front door of the small club on the outskirts of town, somewhat surprised to see how many people filled the stools around the bar and the tables surrounding a rectangular shaped dance floor. He shrugged his shoulders, as he had done for several weeks, still unaccustomed to wearing a different type of clothing after so many months of nothing but boots and heavier material. He smiled inwardly, at least he would never again begin his days saluting someone, or returning another's salute. However, old habits died hard, which caused him to take a slow look around to be certain he recalled the location of another or the best exit, if the need arose. He also located the familiar entrance to the nearest head—make that restroom—likewise, if the need arose, and then he made a quick study of the people in the club.

Looking around the dance floor, his eyes locked on one particular couple, specifically the female. As the couple moved around the dance floor, the woman turned so he could see her face. Please God, his breath caught ... is that ... Diane? He hadn't seen her in almost two years, and perhaps he was afraid to admit to himself that he might never see her again. Yet, he did recognize her on the dance floor with a slender blonde man who was two or three inches shorter than she was. She'd changed her hairstyle and put on a little weight, all of it in the right places, but it was definitely Diana Jeanette Carroll.

When they first met, they had laughed about their names. Including given name, middle name, and surname, she had three female first names and he had three male last names, Alexander Bryant Moore. Before the night was half over she was Diane and he was Alex. Later, he may have spoken to her with sweeter names, but the memory of that night was not going to stop him. It might slow him down a little, but only for a short time.

Instead of approaching her, he sat down on one of the stools in front of the bar and ordered a black coffee. Alex did not respond when the bartender asked if he was the designated driver. He let the man think whatever he wanted.

Alex watched Diane for a while, enjoying the sight of her after waiting so long, noticing she went back to a table that was occasionally visited by one or more of three other women, when they weren't on the dance floor. It was only a little different from the first time he saw her. She had sat out most of the dances that night, that's why Alex had approached her. He suspected the glass she was drinking from tonight was a soft drink, because she had been slowly nursing a soft drink that night, too.

Though it was two years ago, it seemed like yesterday when he had met Diane. Alex remembered the dumb remark he'd made when he sat down at the table next to hers, "Is it your responsibility to see that your friends all get to their own homes after they've had their fill of flirting with every man here?"

She had turned her head and looked at him without responding, and then looked back at the dancers. Alex saw a haunted look, or deep pain, on her face. There were faint shadows under eyes that flashed at him and he would not have been surprised to see her start crying at any moment. Her mouth was thinned to a straight line, as if she had forgotten how to smile. Something was really bothering her and considering her expression, he felt somewhat stupid for trying to make her laugh.

Yet, instead of apologizing, he followed with, "If the next one is a slow piece, will you dance with me?"

This time she looked at him and tried to hide the beginning of a trembling smile.

"Good," he responded taking her look as an acceptance. As the band began the next piece, he stood and held out his hand. She accepted it, as she rose from her seat. He was pleasantly surprised at how tall she was. To his six foot four inch height, she matched him well at one or two inches less than six feet.

He introduced himself as he led her through a slow dance, every few steps pulling her a little closer, and then even closer, until she was resting against him, with her head on his shoulder. Her long dark hair hung down her back bushing the back of his hand.

After the dance, he returned Diane to her table and as she sat down, he pulled another chair close to her. Although she was a quiet person, they did make small talk, often about the interaction between other dancers, watching those dancers between their short conversations. Several slow dance numbers came up and she danced those with him. This allowed Alex to hold Diane even tighter than the first dance. While sitting at their table, Alex learned one of the other women was her sister and the other two were another pair of sisters. They had all grown up in the same neighborhood and for some years had spent the first weekend in August having a good time together. Every once in a while, her sister, or her friends, interrupted their conversations, yet Alex and Diane exchanged few words. However, some kind of communication was going on between them, often by nothing more than a look into each other's eyes.

They moved around the dance floor, covering most of the area. Each time they reached the farthest dark corner Alex would lean down and kiss her. Her lips were soft and she tasted sweet. To his delight, Diane responded with a hunger he could not resist. He knew she was aware of his erection because she pressed herself against him when he lowered his hand to the small of her back. She moved against his hand when he put it between their bodies and placed it on her breast. The silky feel of the fabric of her dress slid across the cup of her bra, but neither garment disguised the hardness of her nipple nor did it prevent Alex from feeling the softness of her breast.

Diane admitted she was the youngest of the four women, at twenty-six, but didn't seem to want to talk about herself. Brian did not pursue it, though she did not say if she was married or involved, and he did not say if he was married or involved. She said he didn't look it, when he admitted he was almost forty. When he asked if she would be back the next night, she shook her head.

Alex commented about a change in the club's decorations. Diane was surprised that he had been in the club before, as she didn't recognize him. This was her hometown even though neither she nor any of her family lived there now. Alex explained that for the last couple of years, the small town was the halfway point to his grandparent's home. For this trip home, he was on his way to attend his grandfather's funeral. The motel across the highway allowed him to leave the unrelenting noise of the interstate highway, register and pay for his room, take his bag into his room, and walk across the highway for a few drinks without having to drive after drinking.

During the band's intermission, Alex took Diane outside for some fresh air and found a dark corner where he could kiss her properly. When he reached down to begin pulling the hem of her dress up, Diane whispered, "Please, Alex." Instead, he placed his hand against her, pushed her dress between her legs, and held his hand still, cupping her sex, feeling her heat, and smelling her arousal as he breathed deeply. Standing inside the comfort of his arm, she moved her hand down and partially encircled his hard cock through the thickness of his jeans, thus increasing his discomfort.

Alex brought both hands up to her face. The heels of his palms pressed against the softness of her cheeks as his fingers threaded through her hair and cupped her ears. He looked at Diane for a long moment, and then kissed her hard. Their hunger for each other was not something to satisfy with a kiss. When he broke the kiss, he wrapped his arms around Diane while he placed his cheek against hers. "Do you have a pocket?"

"Yes."

He retrieved the motel room keycard from his pocket and handed it to Diane, "Do you see the white pickup? I'm in Room 317."

Taking the keycard, Diane glanced across the highway at the long row of motel rooms then looked up at Alex as she put it in the side pocket of her dress. "I don't know Alex..." she began, but wouldn't say anything more.

Sensing she was still wavering, Alex said persuasively, "Diane, I don't look for one-night stands and I don't think you do either. I have to leave by ten o'clock tomorrow morning, but I'll be back in two weeks. I want to see you."

He turned without another word and walked toward the edge of the parking lot, looking behind him to watch as Diane walked back inside the club. Some kind of kismet or fate had caused the motel clerk to give him two keys to his room, or perhaps it was their usual practice because the room had two king size beds. The rooms with one king size bed were all taken.

For the first hour, Alex paced his room, removed the bedspread, and turned down the bed, resisting the urge to look through the drapes covering the window, to see if he could spot her leaving the club with her sister and friends. He tried to watch an old movie on television and took a short nap. He had been driving for more than half a day and he enjoyed stretching out on a flat, non-moving, surface.

After the second hour, Alex hung a clean change of clothing in the bathroom, to let the creases from being folded in the suitcase soften while he took a shower. Finally, standing at the small counter outside the bathroom and wearing only his boxer shorts, he decided to shave. He thought about getting dressed again and walking across the highway, but did not. He wanted Diane to come to him, but she had to want it, too.

After turning off the light above the sink, Alex stood for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkened room. When he heard the lock on his door click open, he turned to watch the door as Diane opened it and stood for a moment looking at him across the room. She stepped inside and shut the door behind her, but the two-inch gap between the wall and the drapes across the window left the room with a small amount of light, showing she was dressed in what appeared to be a one-piece combination halter and shorts.

"Thank you, God," Alex whispered as he walked toward her and took her hand to pull her farther in the room. Then he was kissing Diane and nothing else mattered. He sat down on the side of the bed and pulled her to him as he rested his face against her midriff while his shaking hands pressed against her back. He took in great gulps of air, trying to calm himself.

"I waited until my sister went to sleep," Diane explained as she leaned forward and rested her cheek on top of Alex's head. She left unspoken that during their two hours apart, she had made her decision. Then she took his arms from around her and stepped back. She reached up behind her neck and unhooked the top of her halter allowing it to fall down to her waist. Alex stood and watched as she shimmied the playsuit down her hips and stepped out of it, leaving it in a soft puddle at her feet.

For a long moment, they examined each other. Most of her long hair hung down her back, but some draped across her shoulder and one long curl rested on her breast, almost touching her nipple. He could see the faint tracing of blood vessels on the surface of her full breasts, the bottoms slightly rounded with their weight, and small centered nipples, slowly growing hard in the coolness of the room. Although he had held her as they danced, and knew her waist was slender, he was surprised to see her hips were also slender. He was not intimately familiar with women's sizes, but he suspected her legs were as long as his own were. He couldn't see any tan lines, which meant the faint pink glow of her skin was her natural coloring.

Alex grinned at the neon pink polish on her toenails, but her fingernails were short and unpainted. He recalled that one of the other women at the table had the same color of polish on her long fingernails. In between their dances, he and Diane may have had a few short conversations while they were in the club, but he was sure he did not know her well, yet. He now knew she had a good sense of humor, from no evidence other than the pink polish on her toenails.

Likewise, Diane examined Alex. She still did not believe he was almost forty. He looked too fit for a man fourteen years older than she was, with a flat stomach, powerful legs, and shoulder muscles that rippled when he moved. She almost asked him what kind of work he did, but they had not spoken of such things and that was not why she was here. Except for the part of him she could not see, he was darkly tanned, as if he spent a lot of time outdoors. Perhaps he worked outdoors, although his hands were large, they did not look rough and had not felt rough when he held her, as they would if he did manual labor. A dark mat of hair covered his upper chest and a thin trail went downward, disappearing into his boxers. He had a wide legged stance, and appeared ready to pounce, if the need arose. Diane dismissed that thought, unsure where it came from.

When Alex held out his hands to touch Diane, she avoided him, walked around the foot of the bed, and lifted the covers to slide into the bed. It took Alex only moments to drop his boxer shorts and join her under the covers.

As Alex settled onto his back, Diane moved a little nearer to rest her head on his shoulder. He felt her leg slide onto his own, not too high, just allowing her to get a little closer. Her eyes stared off at the far wall while her free arm slid across his body. Alex felt a slight tremor move through her as he used the arm she rested on to bring her a little nearer to him. It was nice, very nice, more comforting than erotic, as their breathing grew deeper, relaxing against each other, both of them realizing they now had time to be together.

They lay there in that timelessness for a blissful eternity, neither of them wanting to move or disturb the moment. Alex's hand moved in calming strokes along Diane's back and down her side as hers did the same across his chest, repeatedly threading her fingers through his chest hair then lifting her fingers, and then doing it again. His mind wondered to where they were. He was completely aware of how much he wanted this woman, yet he realized he knew almost nothing about her, as she knew nothing about him. For one instant of pure clarity, Alex considered telling Diane to get up, get dressed, and leave. He knew he was going to need much more than one night with her.

"Alex?" He heard her voice beneath him.

"What is it, Diane," he asked.

"Why are we here?" she asked.

He searched deep within himself for the answer. "I don't know. I just knew I could not let you get away from me."

He could feel his own voice vibrating deep in his chest, quivering her breasts resting against his side. Alex moved his head to look down at Diane, "Why are you here?"

Silence settled over them, until she said, so softly, he wasn't sure she spoke or merely exhaled, "Yeah..."

Diane pressed herself harder against Alex as her leg slowly moved up his own. Her head turned up to him, her face only inches away, her breath brushing against his face. He held her tighter still, pressing her body against his, trying to make an indelible stamp of the feel of her on his skin.

Their eyes locked on each other as Alex felt Diane's heartbeat increase, knowing his own was doing the same. Her hand moved across his chest beginning to knead him with more pressure. His hand moved against her back responding to the need to pull her nearer.

It felt like neither of them moved, yet they did. It was a moment they both tried to fight, yet they yielded to the pull from the other. Somehow, in an elegance of the moment, their lips found each other and met. In an instant wave of need, they locked in a desperate searching kiss that turned their blood to a roar, while the heat of their bodies soaked into each other.

He felt her weight shift as Diane crawled up onto his body. Her legs straddled his waist as she held his face in her hands. His hands moved up to press into the skin on her back. She felt light as a feather as their bodies moved with desperate breaths as they kissed. Alex could feel her pressing hard onto his pelvis, against his erection. His fingers dug into the softness of her back, trying to hold her closer, mashing her breasts against his chest. Their lips remained locked, moving only slightly as they explored each other. Everything was perfect. The feel of her was so right, so wonderful, yet so dreadfully wrong.

Alex quickly pulled back. He needed to tell her where he would be going in two weeks.

"Wait! Diane!" He panted. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't know..."

"Sh-h-h, Alex. Please," Diane said, with such desperation it startled him. "I really need you," she pleaded. Her lips again pressed against his and he did not want to let her go.

"You don't understand..." He began once more.

"We both need this Alex. Fuck tomorrow. Tonight is for us." Her words seeped into him as he stared into those beautiful haunted eyes. Such sincerity, such desire, matched his, and Alex yielded, showing Diane he knew she was right. He would take what she offered and what he needed only hoping he could give her as much in return. It just might give him something to dream about for the difficult months ahead.

They embraced once more, stronger, more intensely than before, grinding against each other. Wordless sounds escaped into each other's mouths, trapping the cries of pleasure they both sought. His tongue pressed into her mouth and hers met him. Her breath became his while their bodies rocked together, holding, touching, searching. Diane's hips moved slightly against his erection causing Alex to groan with his need.

Holding her, his arms wrapped around her, Alex moved their bodies until Diane was beneath him. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer. His fingers threaded through her hair, pressed against her scalp, holding her head, grabbing at anything to hold her for his kiss, rubbing his body against her, grinding, lusting, her whimpers of need as bold as his own grunts of possession.

Desperate for air, Alex released her mouth and turned her head to bring her earlobe to his teeth. Tender bites were greeted by her shudders as chills moved across her skin. His lips pressed against the softness under her ear, along the edge of her jawbone, and along her neck, taking small nibbles of her delicious skin, so soft, so tender, something spicy like the soap Diane used, his mouth so full of want he could not keep it from trying to taste every inch of her.

Diane's chest rose and fell beneath Alex, with her own labored breathing. Her hands moved up and down his back, followed the dent of his backbone and the sharp edges of his shoulder blades. Her hands cupped the roundness of his shoulders and her thumbs glided along the ridges of his collarbones. Her fingers moved up to his head, her short nails scraping through his short hair and down the back of his neck.

Slowly his hand fell to feel her tight stomach rising and falling. He ran his fingers along the slight bumps of her ribs and then the lush curve at the bottom of her breast. Alex moved his mouth back to her face, resting against Diane's cheek, feeling her breath against his ear, as his hand held the softness of her breast. Her breasts were perfect, filling his hand, her tiny dark nipple pressed against his palm. When he squeezed, he heard her intake of breath and a long exhale as Diane breathed a slow "O-o-oh."

He moved his hand, allowing the hardened nipple to push between his fingers. Alex squeezed her breast while his flat fingers opened and pressed together to pinch, pull, knead, and massage the small stiff point. Diane arched her back and pressed against his hand, while her nails slowly slid up and down his back. A moment later she was lifting her head, her mouth seeking his neck, her teeth taking small bites of his skin while her hands closed around his upper arms holding on to him with an intensity that thrilled him.