by Linda Ellen
“What’s that?”
“I want to go dancing at the Madrid Ballroom!”
He blinked in surprise. That was the last thing he had expected her to say. “You wanna do what?” Glancing at his watch, he added, “Baby, it’s almost seven…”
“Oh Vic, please…we’re all dressed up…and the Madrid has the best bands every Saturday night…and they’re close by, just over on Third and Guthrie…”
“But Babe…it’s our weddin’ night…” he tried to remind her, but she was on a roll.
“I know. But, oh Vic, please?” she begged, eyebrows raised, blinking at him with that sweet innocent gaze that always melted him right down to his toes. He hesitated…and he was lost. He couldn’t tell her no. Fleetingly, he wished he wasn’t wound so tightly around her little finger.
Closing his eyes for a moment in resignation, he drew in a breath and let it out in a huff of teasing frustration. “Okay. If the Madrid’s what you want, the Madrid you get.”
She giggled in delight and leaned near to present him with her lips, and he didn’t hesitate. The kiss she gave him was one full of promise for later.
With a chuckle at his own predicament, he pushed back his chair and came around the table to help her up.
He just wondered what she would come up with next…
*
The newlyweds hailed a taxi, thankfully, just as they exited their hotel, being that Louise had not taken her coat and it was, after all, November. The cab was warm inside and Vic unbuttoned his jacket, wrapping it a little bit around his bride as she pressed herself to his side, keeping her from feeling chilled.
Minutes later, they arrived at their destination. Club Madrid was housed in a large building with shops and even a tire service along the ground floor and what looked like a second and third floor from the outside. But inside, the ballroom took up the top two floors. The building sported a large neon sign on top with letters spelling out Madrid / Dancing. A suspended canopy over the ballroom entrance bore a sign that read, “Madrid the Ballroom Beautiful / Clyde McCoy & His Orchestra.”
The Madrid Ballroom, or Club Madrid, as it was called, was everything Louise had always heard it to be. Painted palm trees lined the walls of the large room, while ornate chandeliers hung from decorative rafters in the ceiling. Faux balconies with wrought iron railings painted white were situated high up on the walls, making the large room feel as if it were the courtyard of a Spanish Villa. Lavish green velvet draperies hung at intervals stretching from ceiling to floor. The place really did give one the feeling of being in a lively nightclub in Madrid.
That night, it was packed. There were people sitting at most of the white cloth covered tables and the nearly full dance floor teemed with patrons dancing to music skillfully played by a band on a stage at one side. Many of the men there were wearing tuxedos, and the women wore long beautiful dresses. But thankfully for Vic, not all of the men were in formal attire. Some wore just a jacket and tie as he did.
They danced to several songs, mostly ballads, with Vic being extremely attentive. The looks he kept sending her left her with little doubt as to the extent of his frustration. She knew he wanted nothing more than to return to the hotel and spend the rest of the night making love. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why she was stalling.
Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She was fighting the unreasonable fear that she would somehow disappoint Vic. That perhaps he would even regret his decision to marry her once they had consummated their marriage. But even as those thoughts ran through her mind, she knew she was being ridiculous. Vic had told her time and again he was crazy for her. Indeed, on the dance floor as they swayed together, he kept whispering that he adored everything about her. The band happened to play a song from the MGM musical Born to Dance entitled I’ve Got You Under My Skin, and he murmured the words in her ear, confessing that he felt exactly that way.
Several songs later, they took a break and made their way to a table, where a waiter took their order for a bottle of wine. Louise glanced down at her corsage, making sure it hadn’t been crushed in all of her activities during the day, and was glad it was still in good shape. Sitting quite close to Vic, she glanced over at him, finding him watching her with that same intense look he’d had all evening. A delicious quiver ran through her body.
“Isn’t this exciting?” she gushed, but immediately clamped her lips together at the heat in his gaze. He gave no response – none was needed, his eyes spoke volumes. Moments later, Vic quietly thanked the waiter and tossed the money onto the tray in his hand. He poured them each a glass and for the length of two whole songs, they sat silently, listening…sipping…trading gazes…suggestively pressing their knees or thighs against one another.
After a while, as he had done many times that evening, he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, allowing his eyes to do the talking. He was waiting. Allowing her to get her fill of the Madrid, the crowd, the wine, and the dancing. Patiently…well, maybe a trifle impatiently…waiting.
Just then, the club’s photographer stopped at their table.
“Ahh, what a lovely couple. Would you like a photograph to remember the evening?” the girl asked.
Louise turned her head and met Vic’s eyes with an inquiring rise of her eyebrows and he shrugged. She smiled and looked back to the girl. “Yes, thank you. Matter of fact…it’s our wedding day and this will be the first picture we’ve had taken.”
The girl’s mouth fell open and without thinking, she voiced her feelings. “Honey – what the heck are you doing in this place on your wedding night, when you’ve got a dreamboat of a new husband giving you the eye like he’s doing?”
Her words reverberated in Louise’s brain. Yes…what AM I doing, wasting the night, and our room at the Brown?
As the woman snapped the photo, Vic didn’t take his eyes off his bride – and his expression told the photographer the story. She was nervous, and he was giving her time. Louise gazed at the camera, her expression thoughtful.
“That’ll be a dollar,” the girl told Vic, as he reached for his wallet and tossed her a bill. The girl picked it up and glanced between the two. She could feel the tension between them, indeed, like waves undulating on hot pavement. With a knowing, teasing grin, she murmured, “I’ll go right now and get this developed…in case you guys decide you’ve had enough of clubbing for the night.” She left with a discreet wink to Louise.
After she had gone, Louise reached for her wine glass and took a sip. She sat staring at it as another song began and played through, swirling the dark liquid.
When it was over and the dancers on the floor gave polite applause, she suddenly, boldly, turned her head and looked straight into her husband’s eyes.
“I’m ready if you are.”
He grinned in relief. His patience had paid off. Without missing a beat, he answered, “Oh I’m ready, babe.”
Before she could change her mind, he pushed back his chair, tossed another dollar on the table for the servers, and took hold of his wife’s arm to guide her out, pausing at the door to collect his hat from the hat check girl, and their photo from the camera girl, who couldn’t help the amused smile she handed them, along with the picture.
On their way out the door, Louise looked up at him and giggled – whether from the wine or relief or both, she didn’t know – but every ounce of trepidation was gone.
Vic couldn’t help the grin that took over his face as they made their way to the elevator.
*
Louise stood silently next to her new husband, watching as he unlocked the door to their suite and pocketed the key. Swinging the door open, he turned to her grinning, and then without a word, swept her up in his arms as he had done earlier.
She laughed, flinging her arms around his neck. “Vic! We’ve already done this.”
He stepped inside the softly lit room and closed the door with his foot. “I know, but I’m startin’ things over.”
Suspended in mid-air in hi
s arms, her eyes locked with his. “Oh?”
“Mmm hmm,” he answered softly, leaning his head to connect his lips with hers for a long, warm kiss that made her feel tingly as if she had taken another sip of champagne.
“Happy Wedding Day, Mrs. Matthews,” he whispered against her lips.
Louise opened her eyes and gazed dreamily at him, whispering in return, “Happy Wedding Night, Mr. Matthews.”
Vic set her on her feet and took her hands in his, determined to take things slow if she still needed time. “So…you wanna sit over there and talk awhile…or…” he left the question open.
She had never loved him more than at that moment. Knowing he must certainly be chomping at the bit, it warmed her that he was holding back his impatience for her sake. She almost chuckled, thinking, Didn’t he understand my message at the Madrid?
In answer, she smiled softly up into his face, stretched up and gave his lips a soft kiss, and then tugged on one of his hands to begin pulling him toward the bedroom. His heart rate doubled as relief nearly made his knees buckle. Now…let the honeymoon begin!
As they walked into the opulent bedroom, lit by the soft romantic light of one bedside lamp, they both noticed an object sitting on the bed, and that the covers had been invitingly turned down.
“What’s this?” Louise murmured, moving near. Then she recognized it – it appeared to be the ice bucket and bottle of champagne from dinner.
Beside her, Vic reached out and removed it from the bed. He grinned at her, eyes sparkling almost as much as the liquid in the glasses earlier.
“Whatdya think? Want some more?”
Louise looked up at him and slowly shook her head. “I don’t need it…I’m tipsy enough already.”
His eyes flared and he gave a nod, depositing it on the nightstand.
Determined to push aside her nervousness, Louise placed one hand on Vic’s chest as the other gently grasped his tie, allowing the smooth fabric to slide between her fingers. The shirt was warmed from his skin, his chest firm and strong. She could feel his heart beating under her palm.
His hands settled at her waist as he gazed down at her, his expression so tender, so full of emotion.
Holding his gaze, she murmured, “I want this night to be perfect…but I’m…nervous.”
His lips curved into a smile and he drew her closer, their lower bodies touching. Again he touched his lips to hers. “Me, too.”
“We’ve waited so long…”
“Yeah…sometimes it felt like it’d never happen…”
Raising one hand to caress his smooth cheek, she whispered, “I love you so much, Vic.”
He turned his face enough to press a kiss to the palm of her hand, his gaze warming more by the second as he murmured, “Aw babe, I love you more. More than any man ever loved a woman.”
And then he was kissing her, and she was responding. They seemed to melt into one another, their kiss brimming with emotion, not just passion. Slowly, without allowing their lips to break contact, they helped one another to undress…his jacket slid down his arms…the comb in her hair didn’t quite land on the nightstand…his tie and shirt…her wedding dress… Piece by piece, their garments floated to the floor at their feet until finally, for the first time, they were naked together.
Vic reached to switch off the bedside lamp, the light from the other room casting a romantic glow from the doorway. He gently picked her up and lay her down in the center of the large bed, settling himself alongside.
They kissed and caressed each other, glorying in the smooth warmth of one another’s skin, seeking, learning, memorizing curves, angles, lines, textures. Each breathed in the essence of the other, and each one felt as if they had finally come home to a place that was at once brand new and wonderfully familiar.
When finally Vic sheathed himself and joined them as man and wife, Louise cried out in pure bliss. Fleetingly she wondered why she had ever been nervous, for she instantly learned that making love with Vic was so vastly different than anything she had known before. Better than she had ever dreamed marital love could be.
And when the pinnacle came, she was moved to breathless tears and he nearly shouted in exultation. He kissed her tears away, murmuring loving words and holding her close as they calmed slowly back down to earth.
They were finally one.
*
Sometime later, the lovers reclined in one another’s arms within the satiny sheets of their honeymoon bed. Vic lay with his eyes half closed, delighting in the soft breathing of his sweet wife. He slowly allowed the fingers of one hand to caress the smooth skin of her arm as the other hand held her close against his side. He enjoyed the silken feel of her leg nestled intimately between his, and he lay there marveling that being with her had been everything he had ever dreamed or imagined – only about a hundred times more. This was what true love was like, he mused, and nothing in his experience had ever come close.
Her arm around his waist, Louise lay snuggled against Vic’s wide, firm, masculine chest, her head comfortably tucked into the curve of his neck as she nestled her forehead against his cheek. She felt as if she were suspended in a sea of liquid euphoria. Never had she felt anything like what Vic’s hands, lips, and body had made her feel. This was being loved, in its fullest, God-given form. There had never been a time, even once, with TJ that could compare to the pleasure she had experienced making love with Vic. This was what marriage was supposed to be like – giving and receiving pleasure with a man you knew loved you with every fiber of his being. Although it had been difficult to wait, she was so very glad they had. It made it that much more special.
She stirred a bit and he angled his face toward hers.
“Ya okay?” he whispered, his hand moving from her arm to her cheek as he gave it a soft caress. It was the third time he had asked her that.
She smiled lovingly, his concern warming her from her head to her toes. She felt languid with the amount of it, as if her cup overflowed.
“Mmm, yes. I’m wonderful,” she sighed, nuzzling against his neck and kissing the warm skin there.
He grinned, playfully wiggling his eyebrows. “I’ll say.”
She giggled softly and burrowed in even further. “I found out something.”
He raised his eyebrows, moving his lips to kiss the top of her head. “Yeah? What’s that?”
She smiled mischievously and leaned enough to kiss his chin as she whispered, “I don’t need champagne to feel all tingly and bubbly. I just need you,” she added softly, meeting his eyes as he turned his gaze downward.
Pleased almost beyond words, he murmured, his voice deep with emotion, “Same here, babe.”
He leaned to connect their lips, their kiss deep, the kind only lovers share – lovers who know one another in the fullest, deepest way possible. When he finally broke the kiss, he resettled their bodies together as they had been.
They lay there quietly for some time, glorying in the absolute pleasure of being together, like that, that they had waited so long to experience, each one thinking private thoughts.
Finally, Louise spoke a thought that crossed her mind. “Vic…have you been with many women?” she asked softly as her fingers gently caressed his upper chest.
His eyebrows furrowed for a moment. Is she comparing me? “A few…not many. Why’d you ask that?”
“Oh…I was just thinking about…how handsome you are…how wonderful you are. I bet lots of women have thrown themselves at you…”
He stared over at the closed drapes, picturing the blonde he dated in Evansville. Alec’s sister, Rose, crossed his mind and he gave a small shudder. “Not a lot.”
“But…you’ve made love before…right?” she suddenly wanted to know, although she couldn’t have explained why.
He moistened his lips, instinctively knowing he should tread carefully. Deciding to be truthful, he murmured, “I’ve been with girls before. I ain’t no virgin, if that’s what you’re askin’…but,” he paused pulling back just enough to look
into her eyes. In the shadowy room, they were mere reflections of the light from the doorway. “But I realized somethin’, too…until tonight, I never dreamed how different it is to really make love. Compared to what you and me just did together…nothin’ else even comes close.” The corners of her eyes filled at his words, and he added softly, “And in case you’re wonderin’…I sowed a few wild oats before I met you…but not since that night we met. Even the four years I was away. I just…never wanted to with anybody else.”
She drew in a surprised breath at the sincerity in his eyes and the way he had laid his soul bare with his confession. Suddenly, she felt she should explain, although she was unsure if he’d want to hear it. Catching her lip between her teeth for a moment, she murmured, “Vic…my wedding night with TJ was one of the worst nights of my life. He…he hurt me. There was no love or gentleness or romance in it. Later, I hid myself in the bathroom and cried…over you. I was so miserable. And I never enjoyed it with him. It was just my duty…and I’d get out of it any way I could.” She paused, trying to discern his thoughts from the shadowy view she had of his eyes. “I never knew it could be as wonderful…as beautiful…as it was with us. You made all my dreams come true, Vic,” she added softly, her voice catching as emotion took over.
Then she saw it, one tear glistening in the corner of his eye. She couldn’t know that he was agonizing over what she had gone through at the hands of that man, nor that Vic’s hatred of TJ just upped another dozen notches. But somehow knowing that she had wept for him on that night, that night that Vic had imagined so many times, seemed to cement their hearts together even more completely.
Silently, he thanked God for giving them a second chance and that a foolish, uninformed choice wasn’t the end. He had allowed a bridge to be lowered to the other side and granted an escape from misery – for them both.
No more words were necessary, their feelings were transparent and they leaned simultaneously toward one another, their lips meshing as they both unconsciously strove to drive out everything and everyone else from existence.