by Karen Bell
Slipping it over her head, Mila was happy with the feel and fall of the slippery fabric over her body, but looking in the mirror she realized too late, that the skirt would likely open when she sat, and the neckline was low, far lower than she felt comfortable wearing. She realised in a panic that there was no time to change and she grabbed a pair of long silver earrings, hoping to distract from the cleavage.
She slipped on the same shoes of her mother’s that she’d worn on their first date, and was just applying perfume and the last stroke of mascara when she heard the throb of a motorbike turning into her street.
He’s brought the bike! Of course he’s brought the bike. You’re going into town in Friday night traffic to fight for parking with about 20,000 other concert-goers. Of course he’s going to bring the bike. Mila looked down at her heels and bare legs and kicked herself for not thinking of it earlier. At least the dress was stretchy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Thirty heart-stopping minutes later, Ryan took Mila’s hand as she climbed off the bike, glad to be steadied on her high heels. He gave her a delighted hug before stowing their riding gear.
‘We’ve got just enough time for a quick drink before the show if you’d like. What do you think? It’s going to be pretty noisy once we go into the auditorium and my sign language is rusty.’
Mila was glad for the opportunity to settle her heightened nerves and hear about his day so they headed towards a small bar nearby where they were lucky enough to nab a table with two bar stools as another couple left. The concrete flooring meant that it was still noisy and Ryan pulled Mila on her stool towards him before lifting her off her seat and between his legs so that they could be closer. He had ordered a bottle of champagne in honour of Mila’s soon-to-be first concert.
From this position, Mila could inhale the smell of his aftershave and feel the sinuous lines of his thighs through the denim of his jeans.
‘You smell positively edible,’ he said, nuzzling in. ‘And have I told you how incredibly sexy you look tonight?’ He had, about three times, but it was a rhetorical question and he punctuated it by turning her to face him, bending in and kissing her slowly, deeply, the taste of champagne still on his lips and tongue. His arms were around her but his hands were wandering, clearly enjoying the slippery fabric and the curve of her lower back beneath his touch.
Talking was becoming more difficult as the noise level increased and the bar filled up around them but they valiantly tried before the music too got the better of them.
The thrill of their intimacy in the busy bar was something Mila had never experienced, something Robert would never have contemplated and her senses were alive and peaked under Ryan’s touch. They each took another sip of their drinks and he kissed her again, this time exchanging more of the sparkling liquid between them. Mila would have giggled but it was far too erotic and she was beginning to feel the heat transference of his hardened body against hers.
Small talk about their respective days was now out of the question. It was all Mila could do to stop herself from climbing onto his lap and wrapping her legs about him. ‘It’s hotter than Dante’s Inferno in here,’ she panted into his ear.
‘And getting hotter.’ He answered as his hands ran over her bare arms and his breath caressed her neck.
They’re going to kick us out of here if you don’t turn down the thermostat.’ She whispered the words urgently but unconvincingly, before gulping down the remainder of the glass, as if the action could somehow cool her down and disguise her nerves.
His response was to put down his glass and kiss her once more, this time using an ice cube that he’d surreptitiously taken from the champagne bucket to trace a line from one pulse point to another then from the hollow at the base of her throat down towards the groove of her cleavage before slipping the remnants between her lips.
‘Still too hot?’ he whispered, resuming the kiss before she could mentally gather herself to string two words together.
The bar was dim, it was crowded and getting more so by the minute, and the two of them were far enough into a corner to possibly go unnoticed. Mila’s hips were pressed against his pelvis when she felt his hand slide between them and reach between her thighs. He had another icecube, this time she felt it cold and hard inside his hot palm, sliding up, around, under her dress and Oh my God behind the fabric of her thong.
Mila’s legs quite literally gave way as he held her against him and slid what was left of the ice cube in there…slowly, his hand lingering as he kissed her harder. She gasped as it melted inside her and lost her senses for a moment when she felt herself climaxing under his touch. He stopped and held her there, his eyes smouldering, his body speaking of everything he wanted to do with her if they were anywhere but here.
A waiter was heading their way and Ryan stood up, taking Mila’s hand and steering her to the door. They came out into a narrow street not far from the centre.
‘In here,’ he said, pulling her into a small recess as though two teens on the run from a first shoplifting experience. Mila giggled as they disappeared from view. She found herself, back to the wall, her body shielded from view of the street as Ryan scooped her face into his hands and again kissed her hard, this time with more urgency than ever. His shortness of breath told her that had it been darker, he would have taken her right there, pressed up against a metal fire escape door in an alcove in the middle of the city.
‘Fuck, I want you so badly right now.’ The words slipped out as though he couldn’t contain them. The desire in his voice matching the pain in his expression, fighting to hang onto the self-control that he was barely mastering; but eventually he did stop – pulling away from her as though a source of huge magnetic attraction was willing him otherwise.
He gripped her hand as they made their way across the busy road and into the venue. The pressure of his body against hers as they slipped through the doors and were guided to their seats, was enough to keep her on high alert. She couldn’t quite believe what had just happened, how something could have been so erotic and yet so liberating at the same time.
###
The support act was well underway and Mila heard the girls next to her yelling over the noise.
‘Can you believe she was born in 1979? She’s so hot still! And the way she moves that body.’
‘Fearless,’ agreed her friend.
Mila did a double take before realizing they were talking about Pink. So Holly’s idol was born in the same year as her mother. She listened for more.
‘I dunno how she’s gonna out-do the Funhouse tour.’ ‘That was wicked.’ ‘Yeh but she’s had Willow since then and she’s still only three. You gotta wonder if she’s gonna be flyin’ around the arena like last time.’ Mila didn’t know who was yelling what – both girls sounded identical but she was interested to hear what they were saying and impressed to know that Pink was revered – despite her evidently advancing age and the advent of motherhood.
Ryan was taking a phone call, hand over one ear and the other cupped over the mouthpiece to block out the noise. It sounded work oriented and Mila tried not to listen but couldn’t help overhearing some of it. He hung up apologising, but his words were drowned out by the cheering of the audience, as the support act finished and Pink’s band came on for the main show. Already, those in the mosh pit below were jumping up and down in anticipation and their enthusiasm was contagious.
Ryan seemed more interested in watching Mila’s reaction, than the show itself; she saw a smile light up his face when she got just a little over excited, cheering loudly when the pint-sized performer literally shot out of the floor and into the waiting arms of her dancers. Mila soon forgot to worry about her own reactions and instead lost herself to the music, the hi-octane performance and the jaw dropping acrobatics.
An hour into the concert, and those around them were up and dancing in front of their seats. She and Ryan stood to join them, only to be harassed by people behind who couldn’t see over or around Ryan’s larger
-than-life frame. Some of the audience had managed to make their way down the stairs and jump the wall into the mosh pit below, getting lost in the crowd before the ushers could get to them.
Before Mila had given it a second thought, Ryan too had spotted a gap below and jumped the wall, his head disappearing momentarily from view before reaching up and calling for Mila do the same. She looked around her in a mild state of shock, now obliged to follow suit.
Security officers were making their way down the crowded aisles from the top, forcing the concert-goers back into their seats. Mila had no time to take off her shoes and forgetting where she was, vaulted, in one swift movement and with total trust, over the rail and into Ryan’s outstretched arms below. He was clearly surprised by her agility but caught her easily, whooping at her eagerness to join the horde now pulsing around them.
She was trying to scream something to him about him being a senior police officer and she a law abiding citizen, but it was lost, as he all but picked her up and led her into the horde of dancing fans and away from the projectiles of human bodies that were still landing from the ledge above their heads.
The crowd bumping and gyrating around them were having a blast and Mila danced along with Ryan’s body pressed up behind her for one or two songs, enjoying the excitement, but as more and more people managed to jump the wall and all pushed stageward to get closer to their idol, Mila began to feel really claustrophobic. She hated the feeling of being restrained in her movements and she realized too late that it was a trigger that she couldn’t control.
Elbows were flying in all directions and she was carried away from Ryan by the throng of out of control bodies. She was frantically trying to swim back towards him, but in the crush, she was finding it hard to stay on her feet. In that second, she felt a stiletto crunch down on the top of her arch and in the next, crying out in pain as she bent to grab her crippled foot, she was side swiped and lost her balance, crashing to the floor below.
Suddenly, Mila was under a hundred pairs of feet, and each time she tried to stand, she was knocked down again. Time passed in slow motion as people tripped and fell over her, landing on top before propelling themselves off or being pulled away. She felt the blows of high heels and sharp body parts impacting with her curled up body and had given in to hysteria, arms over her head for protection, when she felt the tide separate and strong hands gather her up. She was gasping for air, hyperventilating as he carried her, cradled like a newborn through the crowd towards the emergency exit. The room began to spin and the last thing she saw was Pink flying overhead on a wire as the crowd went mad.
###
‘Mila, Mila… can you hear me?’ The voice was a long way away but she recognized it as Ryan’s.
‘Where am I?’ She tried to talk but realized there was something over her mouth. She grabbed at it, trying to rip it off.
‘It’s oxygen Mila, leave it on. You’re okay now,’ he said it with significant relief in his voice.
She looked around the room remembering what had happened and tried to sit up. She felt immediately dizzy and lay back down.
There was a paramedic on her other side, checking her pulse and blood pressure, asking questions and shining a light into her eyes to make sure she wasn’t concussed. ‘Can you tell me where you are Mila?’
‘Yes, I’m at the Entertainment Centre seeing a Pink concert.’
‘Not any more you’re not. You might have to come back to see that finale you missed.’ The paramedic’s humour was meant for them all but Ryan just looked supremely concerned.
‘Do you have pain anywhere?’ Ryan asked her gently.
‘Hey that’s my next question,’ the paramedic interrupted before she could reply. She could have answered that she had pain everywhere, but she shook her head instead.
‘Wiggle your toes for me…and now your fingers. Still nothing?’ Mila felt a sharp pain on the top of her foot where she’d first been stepped on and she suspected a broken bone. Other than that, she had the sensation of being bruised and battered all over but it was nothing in comparison to what she’d endured in her years of marriage and she knew that a good sleep and some arnica would go a long way towards recovery.
‘I’ll be fine. I’m sorry I frightened you.’ She directed her comment towards Ryan who was still looking positively crushed.
‘No it was entirely my fault. I’m just so relieved you’re okay.’
‘Really I’m fine. Let’s just go home.’
‘Not so fast young lady, I’ve got a few more tests to run before you can leave and I need to know you’ll be in someone’s care overnight in case you have concussion, otherwise it’s off to hospital for you.’
‘She’ll be in my care.’ The way Ryan said it made Mila’s heart skip a beat. It was loving and fiercely protective at once.
‘I don’t know that I’ll be able to go home on the bike though.’
This time they all laughed. ‘I think we can manage a taxi just this once.’
Mila felt a lot better by the time the taxi pulled up to Ryan’s home. The second he had seen her limping, he’d insisted on carrying her, despite her protestations. They’d stopped at an all night pharmacy for Arnica and he’d made her promise to stay in the taxi while he’d paid for the ride so that he could carry her into the house.
Even though it was late, Jack met them at the door and showed great interest when he saw Mila in his master’s arms. She was laughing by now, as Ryan laid her gingerly on the lounge, and Jack came up, nuzzling her face before immediately spotting the broken skin on her foot and licking it better.
‘We should have picked up a tetanus shot while we were at the pharmacy too,’ she joked and then went into a fit of pained giggles as the dog licked the underside of her foot too. Ryan cracked the first smile she’d seen since the ordeal, and she poked him in the ribs. ‘Memorable first concert hey?’
‘So memorable that you’ll still be holding it over me in fifty years time when our kids’ kids are going to their first concert. I can hear it now. Did I ever tell you about the first time your grandfather took me to a concert?’
Mila laughed. ‘Are you talking about us having a future together?’
‘Well I kind of owe it to you after nearly getting you trampled to death tonight.’
‘Just what I need, another marriage based on obligation.’
‘Did you just say the word marriage?’ He said it with an eyebrow raised and Mila was suddenly embarrassed and defending herself.
‘Well you mentioned grandkids, and I am a good girl, I wouldn’t be just shacking up with someone without a commitment.’
‘Well I don’t know if I want to be with a good girl. It sounds kind of boring.’
‘Look who’s talking! Your first foray into criminal activity was breaking into the mosh pit tonight. And what came out of that? Let’s just face it. You’re not cut out for being on the wrong side of the law either. Admit it, you’re a born goody-goody.’
‘Ouch, that really cuts deep. If you weren’t lying there injured I’d show you just how bad I can be.’
‘Oooh, now I’m really scared.’
‘Come on Jack, defend me here. Tell Mila what a bad-ass team we once were.’ Jack barked excitedly as if to confirm the statement.
‘Okay, okay, you win. Just tell your side-kick to stop barking. I’ve still got a splitting headache.’
Ryan once again looked at Mila with concern clouding his face. ‘Can I get you anything?’
‘No, don’t fuss; I’ll be fine by the morning. It’s quite probable that half the people there tonight have a headache or at the very least ringing ears. Have live events always been that loud or am I just getting old?’
‘No, they’ve always been that loud, and there’s a whole industry of noise cancelling earplugs for your listening pleasure. God knows why they don’t just turn the speakers down.’
‘Well I don’t think I’ve had the chance to say thank you, but it really was an incredible concert right up until the light
s went out, so to speak. She’s an absolute inspiration. Imagine her gruelling schedule - writing music, all that training, touring around the globe and still finding the time to raise a family. I’m exhausted just thinking about it.’
‘Well you have every reason to be exhausted, so how about I make us a hot drink and then we get you to bed.’
Ryan disappeared into the kitchen and Mila’s mind drifted to the first part of the night, in the bar and then pressed up against a wall in the laneway. Just thinking of it now gave her a flutter of excitement. She’d have gone wherever he’d wanted to take her. She was still thinking about it when he came back and helped her to sit up before settling himself on the floor at her feet. He was rubbing Jack’s belly and massaging his head with his free hand and the sight of it did nothing to assuage the longings infiltrating her thoughts.
He’d made them hot chocolate the old fashioned way with real cocoa and full cream milk, on the stove and heated to boiling point and with the first sip, Mila burned her tongue, yelping as the scalding liquid ran down her throat. ‘So one injury’s not enough, you really have it in for me.’
‘I’m trying to apologise, but evidently not doing a very good job. Can I kiss it better?’
‘I think you’ve done enough damage for one night.’ Mila smiled inwardly, milking the situation for all it was worth. ‘But to be honest, I should have known from the second I landed in the mosh pit that I wasn’t going to be able to deal with that crowd. I just forgot how claustrophobic I was until too late.’