Carmen had hoped the liquor hit her harder by the time he asked her to dance so she could blamed her lack of Dominican dance skills on her inebriation. Unfortunately, she was barely tipsy which made her painfully aware that all she knew was bachata as Marcel dragged her to the dance floor. He said his Uncle owned the place so without a doubt, someone from his family was watching them. She could feel their glares lingering as soon as they entered the club. Carmen hated walking into anything unprepared and this night had been a “Groundhog Day” of surprises. Her first surprise had been discovering her date’s ethnicity, her second surprise had been discovering her date was a snarky “woke” Dominican and her third surprise had been discovering her growing attraction to him despite Marcel being a walking list of red flags. Carmen wasn’t blind. Marcel was handsome in a pretty boy way that she had never before thought was sexy. Used to being the boss in her professional and personal life, Carmen was struggling to not take instruction from Marcel and keep him on his toes. She was stumbling over her words like a teenage girl. Carmen was determined to make the dance floor her revenge and have him in a daze from her hips. Ignoring the storm brewing in her stomach, Carmen tried to focus on the beat of the music but Marcel wasn’t making it easy. She wasn’t going to succumb to the allure of his smell, warm and rich, and the invitation of his hips. 

Reggaeton was not her speciality but shaking her ass was a skill Carmen received from her mother’s side. Whining her hips in a circle 8, she pressed her backside against Marcel’s and almost stepped on his feet. Carmen couldn’t remember a time she was so thrown off in the club.

“Sueltalo” he whispered cupping her hips, “let me” he guided her hips as the beat changed to something faster.

Although Marcel was all visibly muscle, his body moved like water on the dance floor. Thrusting harder against her ass as the tempo picked up, Carmen responded by bouncing her cheeks to the beat. Looking around Carmen saw plenty of women gyrating to the rhyme and a bunch of men doing fast feet movements. Everyone was lost in the sound reflecting off the walls, she relaxed a little more adding a swirl to her twerk. The liquor, finally revealing itself, made her feel slick everywhere. All she could focus on was his dick pressed up on her ass as she gave him her best Meg thee Stallion impression. Carmen tried to ignore the creeping fear that always lingered when she played with alcohol since her early 20s. She felt too loose, too comfortable in this club. 

Standing up she turned around abruptly her legs almost giving out from the force of his thrust, “ I’m going to get something to drink from the bar” she pointed to the barely empty bar across the room. 

Not waiting for answer, Carmen began to move out the crowd opposite of the bar.  Trying to remain calm in a wave of a sweaty bodies heightened her anxiety about the bar. Carmen felt claustrophobic. Fighting her way to an open space, Carmen sucked in her first non-hookah breath all night. Marcel was on her heels grasping at her hips as she tried to escape him for the second time that night. Expecting his anger and annoyance with her behavior, Carmen braced for the “cocktease” like slurs that would follow her abrupt distant behavior. Instead Marcel pulled her in close against his sweat stained shirt absorbing her in. 

“Are you feeling better?” Marcel’s correct assumption that his touch would calm her only made Carmen still in his warm embrace. Trying to prove him wrong Carmen attempted to pry herself off him with a big thrust against his shoulders. Marcel chuckled in her ear, the sound causing the beads of sweat she swore was from dancing race down her spine. 

“Let’s go somewhere you can cool down” his wide palm spanned hers ushering out the back door of the club. 

As the cool air of the night sky kissed Carmen’s sweaty skin, she thanked God for an actual escape route but now she needed one to end this date properly. There would be no second date. No walking her to the front door. No hot scorching kiss that would douse her growing desire. None of that. Carmen was determined to ignore the heat between them and listen to her logic. She dated men like Marcel before so now she knew better; Carmen knew how to spot a fuck boy. Marcel was too good looking to not be sinking into something new every weekend he visited his Uncle at his club. Carmen observed how all the ladies with pasties for bras stared at Marcel when he entered the club; she wasn’t stupid. She knew Marcel didn’t need to be set up on a blind date but yet here she was. Marcel approached her, brushing back a sticky curl from her forehead. 

“What troubles you, llamita?” Little flame. 

“Nothing” Carmen glanced around at the alleyway Marcel rushed her out to. 

“You mean why I left. I just…” Carmen starts her ridiculous lie looking anywhere but his smoldering gaze. 

“What are you running from, little flame?” Marcel tipped Carmen’s chin up forcing her to meet his intense stare. 

Before she could open up her mouth to respond, Marcel added “don’t fix those sweet lips to lie to me either.” 

He was asking for more of her than she was willing to offer. It scared her that she was scrambling to give him the easiest truth about her to swallow when he didn’t deserve it; he hadn’t earned her trust. Carmen quickly recovered, remembering herself. 

“Are you calling me a liar? From the looks of this shady “club”, you come from a family of liars.” Carmen shot back her best insult. 

Marcel’s lips tightened at the mention of his family and took a step back, Carmen silently cheered successfully ending the date.

“I thought you were an honest woman. Yet here you are lying and scared?” Marcel shot back. 

“Scared of what? You barely know me. Where are you getting all this from?” Carmen sucked her teeth. 

“You dance too carefully. Like someone’s always watching.” 

“Cause someone always is. It’s called double consciousness. It’s a thing most black people have.” Carmen silently judged Marcel’s unawareness. 

This is why she didn’t date outside her people. She knew this man wasn’t “her kinfolk” from the minute his accent vexed her. 

“I apologize llamita. I was too busy watching your soft flesh ripple under me. Too besotted on the sway of your hips to dembow beat” he stared down at my figure nostalgically as if we hadn’t just touched moments ago.

“Even now your eyes communicate passion but you suppress your true desires.” Marcel cuffed my waist pressing his toned body against mine to whisper roughly against my ear as if we weren’t alone in an alley. 

“Not me though”. He chastised, “I don’t lie about my desires” Marcel’s darkened eyes fixated on her lips. 

“I can’t” Carmen whispered not understanding what she was saying no to. 

“You can, you will and even better, you’ll want to.” Marcel predicted as he crushed his full wiry lips against hers. The heat that rivaled the inside of the sweaty club returned tenfold as Carmen’s safeguarded walls thawed. 

This was his plan all night, Carmen tried to reason before lust took over. Marcel was intent on making her boil under his gaze, his questions, his hips and now under his lips. Giving in temporarily, Carmen enjoyed the pressure of his hard body against hers as his lips caressed hers with a tenderness that made her resolve liquify. It was clear Marcel was no stranger to a dumpster hump as he thrusted Carmen against the brick wall housing his Uncle’s club and continued to cultivate the fire between them. The idea that this was all going according to his plan turned Carmen malleable lips into stone as she pushed him away. 

“Use to mauling black girls in cheap alleyways for fun or is this your first time?” Carmen accused Marcel immediately to push him even further away. 

“If I was mauling you, what were you doing to me?” Marcel motioned to his muddled unbuttoned shirt . 

“I didn’t do that. I didn’t do anything.”” Carmen huffed, confused by her body’s response to him. 

“I certainly didn’t do this myself and my lips aren’t swollen for no reason.” Marcel licked his bruised lips to taste her one more time. 

“Come here, llamita. Let the fires burn.” Marcel smirked knowingly. Carmen surmised it was all a play in his game book. 

“No. I’m going home. I won’t be groped in a back alley way like some call girl.” Carmen marched toward her car. 

Marcel, no longer amused by her denial of their chemistry, chased after Carmen adjusting himself to speak with reason not lust. 

“You’re too drunk to drive. I’ll call you a cab and bring your car to your home tomorrow.” Marcel offered re-buttoning the mess my hands unconsciously made. 

Trying to ignore the hint of blues and red in his prominent chest tattoo, Carmen looked for her car even more. 

“You’re too stubborn for your own good” Marcel stated. 

“I’m not drunk and if I am, I’ll call myself an Uber. I’m not giving you my address, weirdo.” The rum was not her friend and not her usual drink. 

“My boy will drop us off. I promise you’re safe with me. I won’t stalk you or whatever else you think bad Dominican boys do.” Marcel tried to assuage her fears. 

“No. I already called it but I’ll pick up my car in the morning. If your uncle tows it, you’re paying for it Marcel. Intendes?”Carmen stepped into the street and waved her phone in Marcel’s face to show the Uber was 2 minutes away. 

He snatched it up! “Give me back my phone” Carmen bounced up and down jumping to reach his 6’3 frame as he typed in her phone. 

“Do not cancel my Uber. Give me back my phone now Marcel. I’m not playing with you.” Carmen shuffled around him to see what he was doing. 

“Here stubborn llamita. Now I’m shared in your Uber ride so I know that you’re home safe. That’s all I care about.” His heartfelt reply made Carmen doubt herself again but she wised up. 

“What about my car? No tow. No tickets Marcel. Intiendes?” She repeated ignoring his little Uber safety check. 

“I’ll drop that off tomorrow. Now that I have your address and the keys.” He held up the keys he picked from her during their little chase. 

“Marcel. Give me back my keys. I need to get open the door!” Carmen pouted. The alcohol was wearing her down. 

“You still have your house keys but if you really want to come back all way to the bar when you live so far away before work tomorrow, you can” he dangled the key in front of her. 

“I’ll take my chances. I’ll be by at 11. I work from home tomorrow.” Carmen revealed snatching her keys as her Uber arrived. 

“You never even told me what you do?” Marcel joked. “I guess we’ll find out on a later date, huh?” Marcel flirted the idea of a second date. 

“Good night Marcel. It was definitely interesting.” Carmen closed the door of the Toyota and sped off into the night. 

Marcel looked at her address chuckling, she lived next to the business he was renovating. He’d make sure to see his little flame for one more taste of her fire.