I hear a very clear and distinct set of heavy footsteps advancing towards us. Whoever it is, isn’t panicked like the rest of us. He or she (no it was definitely a he) is moving calmly and very deliberately towards our direction. I experience a brief moment of alien-like movement in my stomach warning me of something. I’m not sure what. Maybe to be on guard or perhaps to run. Suddenly I feel five very warm, strong, and calloused fingers grasp my upper left arm and pull me up on my feet.
“Stand up,” the deep voice orders with a rumble. His lips just inches away from my ear. His breath smells of peppermint, chocolate and cognac. A yummy mixture. It’s familiar. Reminds me of Christmas.
His distinctive voice reverberates throughout my body, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, and then settles in as if making a home in between my legs. I’m shocked at my body’s reaction and frankly embarrassed. Typically I would never blindly follow the commands of a stranger, but this isn’t a usual circumstance I find myself in. So for once I decide not to over think things (like he may be a serial killer) and instead just follow his lead.
With his hand still firmly clasping my upper arm, he notices that my feet are unsteady and quickly adjusts himself to place his other hand loosely around my middle to balance me as I stand. His massive hand almost spans the entire length of my torso and although my clothing serves as a barrier, to me it feels like I have nothing on. His thumb nearly grazes my breast, which sends my nipples into a hard alert, while his pinky finger comes dangerously close to the waistband of my panties. I am so overwhelmed by all the sensations of him touching me, that my body probably feels heavy to him, as I inadvertently sway slightly forward and allow him to bear more of my weight. My heaviness doesn’t seem to be an issue though, as he effortlessly guides me upwards onto my feet with one sweeping movement.
“Easy.” He murmurs softly by my ear.
Even with all hell breaking loose in the club, that one word, the stranger’s raspy voice, and his unforgettable hands are all I can concentrate on. His touch feels personal, careful, and intimate, as if we already know each other or as if we are definitely about to. As he continues to direct me, his commands all of a sudden turn somewhat clipped, almost like he is annoyed with me for some unknown reason.
“She with you?”
“Grab her hand too.”
“Wait I-” I start to protest. His terse tone throwing me off.
“Grab her.” He orders again.
As he continues to hold onto me, to help me keep my balance, I reach down to grab Sloan’s arms and lift her up with me. “Come on Sloan.”
“Walk.” Is all the stranger says next.
And we do.