Smokey sings out from the turntable, and I feel hands on my waist.
“Come here.” My guy says to me.
I try to shoo him away, but he is having none of it.
“Somebody has to do the chores,” I say.
“That can wait. Dance with me,” He says, folding me closer as we slowly rock.
I pivot, putting one hand on his right shoulder and my head down on his left.
“That’s mine,” I press a kiss onto his neck, then bury my nose there, inhaling,
He runs his fingers gently down my spine and I tingle in all my secret places.
The needle scratches the vinyl as the record comes to an end.
I stare at his lips, as he brushes a finger across mine. I nibble a moment before kicking off my shoes.
He reaches out one arm, pulling down the window shade.
Copyright © 2011 Kimberly Yarbrough Carpenter
Music suggestion: You’ve Really Got A Hold On Me, Smokey Robinson and the Miracles