The Bunhead and the Bad Boy

[SweetAsSuga]

The feel of Carson against her, his hands on her waist then sliding down to cup her bottom as he pressed her against the wall, his lips against hers in a kiss that took her breath away, it was all consuming. In her little knowledge of all things sexual, Grace knew that they were pushing towards something. Something that she wouldn't be able to turn back from. She could tell that Carson wanted this, she could feel him pressing against her in a way that could only mean that the situation was arousing him. The idea that she could cause this reaction in a man made Grace's face flush. Or was it more than just that thought that caused the heat to course through her? Did she, too, want this?

"Carson," her voice was soft, husky from lack of air. There was one thing that Grace needed to know before anything could happen between them. One thing that could make or break them before they were even a couple. Grace pulled back and met his eyes, her gaze unwavering though she desperately wanted to bury her face in his shoulder and not meet the hunger in his eyes as she put voice to the one thing that plagued her.

"You and Sasha?" She couldn't say more than that. Her voice caught against the lump in her throat, afraid of what the answer would be. What if he wanted to keep seeing Sasha? What if they were more than Grace thought? She wanted to look away, to go back to the kissing that had been more than pleasant. But she needed to know. Before she could move another step with Carson, she needed to know that he was as serious about this as she.

With her heart thumping beneath her breast, Grace waited for Carson to answer.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

"You and Sasha?"

She remained embracing him, he could feel her body pressed into him, even could hear the pounding of her heart though his chest and against the pound of his. Yet this was … this didn’t … she was asking …

Did she know? Had she followed him that night to see her tempt him? More bluntly, what the heck did Sasha tell her.

“That Bitch,” Carson blurted.

Somewhere between the building need for her, and the thought that once again Sasha playing tricks, his mind went into a disconnected rage. He let go of Grace, only subconsciously making sure not to drop her, and bolted towards the door heading back stage. The scene there was a mass of dancers moving in closer to Sasha after her solo, getting praise from her little minions and acknowledgement from her classmates. Carson pushed through the group, hearing a squeak or a squeal at his rudeness. When she saw him approach, she didn’t even register that he was pissed, beyond pissed, and started to speak as if ready for more congratulations.

“What did you say to her?” he confronted.

“What ..” she responded with a half arrogant smile.

“To Grace. What did you say to Grace? What did you say we did?”

“Well … nothing,” she guffawed.

“Damn right, Nothing, you goddamn cock tease. Grabbing at me to get between her and I. With your plan and all.” Carson’s mouth was racing like a blind man at a demolition derby. Some of the crowd gasped at the words he used, obviously not used to such language. Others giggled lightly. All of which went right over his head. “You think you can play me to piss off her isn’t that right? Thought you could say things about you and I, distract her, make her feel bad. With your tight pants and you hands. Then find some way to make her like you. It’s because your easy you cock tease. Well, don’t you f- … don’t you damn well do it at her expense. She ain’t a whore like you, she deserves better! She deserves the right guy. She deserves to be treated right. Treated like the angel she is, by someone special. Not some aimless jackass off the street with some …”

He stopped. This isn’t about you Carson, he told himself. This is about them. He shook his head to regain what he intended. “She Deserves Better than how you treat her, Sasha.”

Sasha was stunned, not getting a chance to get a word in on this guy tripped her, and she was noticeably flustered. “Grace … Grace is a … a kiss-up. Will do anything to get what she doesn’t deserve.”

“Awwwww, Bullshit,” Carson interrupted. “She went out there and blew that house down. She did things that made grown men cry. She works harder than you, tries harder than you, and IS better than you.”

“What do you know,” she bit back with a shout. “You’re just a slacker. You know shit about dancing.”

“Yeah!” he almost laughed. Gaining some of himself he tilted his head and continued with quiet intensity. “That must be what sucks about it. I know shit about dancing. And even this slacker can tell. That must Really Suck to hear.”

The crowd of dancers, gazing wide eyed up at Carson slowly turned to Sasha.

Sasha’s face turned a bright red, her teeth bared down on itself. If she was a cartoon, steam would be shooting out of her ears. Carson braced himself for the onslaught of words, ready for them to fire like out of an assault rifle. Instead, tears flew with a sad cry. She blurted moans and sadness. Covering her face she turned and ran towards the dressing room. Her two friends ran behind her already trying to console her.

Carson was shaking, breathing hard, lost in the rage of the moment. He almost felt like the edge of tears himself.

Then a younger dancer with red hair turned to look at Carson. “I never seen her cry before. I think you broke Sasha.” The other girls burst into a laugh around him, and his found laughter found its way in it too.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Befuddled and confused were probably the best words to describe the way Grace was feeling at that moment. One second she was wrapped tightly around Carson, seeking an answer to the connection between him and Sasha, and, before she could blink, he was setting her on the ground and racing backstage. Now, more than ever, Grace was completely lost. Was this the way all guys acted? Racing off at the drop of a hat? And to do what?

Leaning her head back against the wall, Grace sighed. Why was she always screwing things up? Why did she have to open her big mouth and ask about Sasha? Why couldn't she just be content to be wrapped up in Carson's arms with his lips against hers? She should have left it alone, but, deep down, she knew that she couldn't. If she wanted any type of future with Carson she needed to know.

From behind the door she could hear voices raised, but could not make out what they were saying. Curious, she moved towards the door that Carson had raced through, only to jump back quickly to avoid being hit as the door flung open and Sasha raced out with tears streaming down her reddened face.

Curiouser and Curiouser.

Why did things keep having to get more and more complicated? What did Carson say to Sasha? This was all getting to be too much for Grace. She liked to live her life as simply as possible. Things were always so cut and dry for her. And now, since meeting Carson, her life had been in constant upheaval. From one day to the next she didn't know what was going to happen, she didn't know what her emotions would do. And she didn't like that. Grace liked order, she liked knowing what each day would bring. She did not like surprises. And Carson was nothing but one surprise after another. Sure some of them were good, but others, like the hell he had wreaked on her emotions after their first kiss, were just plain brutal.

So was it worth it to be with him? Was the whirlwind that was sure to sweep through her life worth a few kisses?

The questions circled through her mind, never stopping long enough for her to ponder them through. Each question chased by another, never stopping, never ceasing. It was giving her a headache.

"Grace, ma chère, there you are." Madame Claudette's thick accent broke through the fog of Grace's mind. "I have been looking all over for you. Come, Monsieur Dubois and Monsieur Frey would like to have a word."

Madame's hand rested on Grace's shoulder, her touch warm and reassuring. Grace melted into the touch, thankful to have something that felt familiar, something that could steady her rapidly spinning world. Wordlessly, she allowed Madame Claudette to lead her through the back hallway and towards the theater's foyer. A part of her brain told her she should wait for Carson, to at least let him know she would only be a moment. But one did not keep the academy's founder and the choreographer of the Dubois Dance Company waiting. And so, she allowed Madame to lead her away, casting only the briefest glance at the backstage door. She could only hope that Carson would understand her disappearance. After all, her future was waiting.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

The auditorium was silent, dark, and vacant. Except of course for Carson. He sat on the edge of the stage, plopping away on his cellphone. He wasn’t paying too much attention to his fingers as they flew over the screen, wasn’t paying too much attention to anything at the moment.

After the incident with Sasha he really didn’t feel like talking to anyone. He found some random hallway, and came across a superball. A good half hour lost there bouncing that ball in the quiet hall. The old man who tried to chase him from the theatre came across him and tried to chase him again. Carson ended up hiding out in a closet for a while longer after that. Once the coast was clear, it was really clear, like noone seemed to be around.

Finding the auditorium was a bit of luck, and the right place to just have some time. Hours before, this was the sight of something special. Grace’s big night. Grace’s big performance. This room was alive with energy and people. When she finished, watching the place erupt was like validation of what he saw, was like validation of what he thought about her. She was quite simply amazing, worth getting chased around the academy; maybe not worth the rest of it, but …

Figuring this thing out wasn’t easy. For one, it seems a couple weeks ago if someone would have mentioned ballet he would be already yawning half way through the word Then he went chasing after the first girl who talked to him in this town, hooking up with her before he even knew her name. Then hooking up with her arch enemy. Then hooking up with her again before going off on the arch enemy. Never did the phrase “What the Hell, dude?” be more applicable..

Yet Sasha said something that stuck with him. Grace was cute and all, but Sasha suggested he was hooking up with her just for the dancer body. What bugged him was it was sort of true. She’s cute, maybe not the busty hottie he dreamed of, but to explore every twist and turn on her would be a journey worth taking. But if he wouldn’t just wanted that, why would he go off on Sasha? Couple of beers in that brunette and Carson would likely be able to go to town, and get change for the taxi. If he wanted something else from Grace … well … that he knew wasn’t going to happen. The longer he stuck around Grace, the more likely he is going to do something that screws up all her plans and dreams. It’s one thing to let his own life go to shit, its another to make her’s go to shit.

So why the hell was he here? He cut it off with Sasha, weirded out the rest of the school, and knew he should just walk away from the rest of it. Maybe he should just go work for Father Jack, and forget about the academy. Maybe just start hanging out at the boathouse and stay away from her. Maybe leave this town. Get his cousin in Seattle see if he can get a job up there. Maybe actually go to college like he was supposed to do the whole time.

Maybe he’ll just sit here for a little longer.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Grace was in a daze as she wandered down the hallway. Meeting with the two men had lasted longer than Grace thought it would, but it had been time well spent. They had loved her! And, not only that, but they had practically offered her a position with the Company after graduation. It was a surreal, out of body experience for Grace and she had wandered backstage to her dressing room in a fog.

Having changed out of her costume and into a pair of yoga pants, a tank top, and a zip-up hoodie, Grace wasn't ready to go back to her dorm just yet. She wandered back out to the theater, wanting to spend just a few more moments in that room, on the stage that had, in the span of a few minutes, changed her life. Stepping out onto the floor of the stage, Grace paused.

"Carson?" She moved towards him, heat growing up her neck. How could she have forgotten he was there and that he had probably been waiting for her?

"I'm so sorry," she said quickly, dropping down to sit beside him on the edge of the stage. "Mr. Dubois, he's the school's president, he and Mr. Frey, the choreographer, wanted to talk with me. And I guess I lost track of time, but, Carson..." she couldn't stop the wide grin that split her face, "they all but handed me a contract with the Company."

Happier than she'd been in a long time, Grace flung her arms around Carson, hugging him tightly.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

At first, he had the speech all planned out. How he was going to say he was proud of her, that she was something special tonight. How he saw how good she was, and how she was going to be a great dancer for the rest of her life. He was going to say that there was nothing between him and Sasha, and this has nothing to do with that bitch.

Carson thought he should add more. Add to tell her about how hard things have been the last few months for him, how his father treated him, how his aunt doesn’t care. He would tell her about how every decision he’s made were ideas he just pulled out of his ass. That he was now scared of making a decision that would hurt her now, do something like she has always suggested, something to make it worse.

There had been ten speeches, with fifty different topics, but they all ended the same - that he would leave her, never bother her again, and let her live happily ever after.

“Carson?”

When he turned to look, a stage light covered her with soft golds and yellows. She seemed to glow in the light. When she approached him, the dancer body floated across the stage until she sat next to him. He lost a little in what she said, until …

"they all but handed me a contract with the Company."

She embraced him, and a smile came to his face. All the speeches he readied to give, and she left him speechless. He just hugged her back warmly, and felt that damn decision making out of his ass take him again.

“You know what this means, Bun-Bun … we need to celebrate,” he quipped leaning back to look at her directly with a wide smile, “let’s go out this week.” Smirking he scratched her sides in a little tickle, “But I expect you to take me out on a proper date. None of this hanging out in a practice studio waiting to get caught by your ex-boyfriend again. A real date. And someplace where I can leave the sleeves at home.” He gave her a wink and kissed her nose.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

"What about this?" Grace held up yet another pair of black pants and a t-shirt from her summer as a counselor at dance camp.

"Absolutely not." Jenna's voice was sharp and far too loud. Grimacing, Grace leaned over her computer and turned the volume down. She had Skyped her best friend in a pre-date panic and Jenna had yet to do anything to help calm her down.

"This is useless," Grace sighed and fall down onto her bed, "I don't own a single outfit that I can wear on a date. Everything in my closet is either a leotard or yoga pants."

"Oh buck up buddy," Jenna grinned from the computer screen, "at least you already know this Carson guy likes you. I doubt he cares what you wear. In fact," a wicked gleam filled Jenna's eyes, "I think you should go completely naked. He'd love that."

If Grace could have smacked Jenna at that moment she would have. Trust her friend to make it all about sex.

"Carson's not like that," Grace said, feeling defensive of a boy she wasn't even sure was her boyfriend.

"C'mon, Gracie, every boy is like that." Jenna laughed. "You've just been in that ivory tower of yours for too long to realize it."

Both girls stared each other down through the screen. Finally, Jenna sighed.

"Alright, show me your closet again."

***​

Grace was late. She was never late, but being a girl took a lot more effort than she had ever realized. She could only hope that Carson approved and appreciated the effort she had gone through for him.

Making her way to the front of the academy, Grace could feel the butterflies in her stomach. Somehow, what had started as just a slight case of nerves had transformed into nearly full-on panic at what could happen that night. Grace had never been on a date in her life, she had no clue what to do or what to expect. Maybe she should have told Carson she'd meet him at The Boathouse instead of having him, essentially, pick her up at the school.

Opening the front door, Grace realized it was too late to second guess herself because Carson stood waiting, his back to her, on the bottom step. Drawing in a deep, calming breath, Grace quickly adjusted the skirt of her dress.

Somewhere in the depths of her closet, she had unearthed a dress that Jenna had talked her into over summer break. It was a cute little floral dress that they had found in a vintage shop. The fabric was a soft cotton, red with little white flowers dotting the whole thing. The billowy skirt hit just above her knees, making Grace slightly self-conscious about her legs. But the hemline was nothing compared to the way the dress dipped between her breasts, showing off more cleavage, or what was considered cleavage for a girl with a small chest, than Grace was used to. The waistline was cinched with a wide black belt, drawing attention to the slimness of her figure.

She made her way down the steps carefully, not used to the wedge heels that she wore.

"Hey, Carson," Grace said softly, a slow smile pulling at her lips as he turned. She fiddled, nervously, with her hair, which Jenna had insisted she let loose - both literally and figuratively. The blonde hair now flowed down to the middle of her back in soft waves, the soft strands brushing against her face in a way that she wasn't used to.

"Are you ready to go?" She asked, fidgeting nervously as he stood there, still silent, his eyes taking in every inch of her. Grace fought the urge to run and hide, to seek the comfort and security of her leotard and bun. Instead, she stood, allowing Carson to take in this new and, hopefully, improved woman.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

Down the darkening streets of town, a van with The Cave Youth Center (with a christian cross stuck in amongst the different letter “T”s in the name and bit too happy of characters painted on it) bounced through intersections with more haste than one would expect a van painted like that would look.

Carson was bouncing in the back of the van, leaning over the front seat. “Dude, it’s right up there, stop already.”

“Where is it?” asked Father Jack at the wheel.

“There, that big ass … sorry Father, I mean, that big school looking thing. Hurry up, she’s always on time, like Always!”

Lora, the ponytailed firecracker in the back of the van piped in. “You said that, like elbendy zillion times, Carson! She’s always on time, she’s always dancing, she’s always blah blah blah” Lora was grumpy because everyone at The Cave could tell she carried a bit of a crush on the new long haired worker twice her age, and wasn’t taking too kindly to him all of a sudden having a girlfriend.

“Do we get to see her?” called Charlie, a pretty impressionable boy who seemed to drool over Carson’s stories about surfing. Well, half the kids seemed to hang on his stories. Most of the kids there were a few years younger than him, but most don’t know much of their world outside of their town either. Carson ended up there at first because he was bored, needed something to do one afternoon, and the place advertised free sodas. Now, its a real job making him real money, albeit not even minimum wage.

“I’ll be lucky to see her, she’s probably freaking out that I stood her up by now, if we didn’t have to wait for Lora …”

“Now Carson,” Father Jack started, “deal was we could drop you off first, but only if we get to meet her.”

“Liar,” Carson laughed. “You suggested to drop me off first.”

“Okay,” Father Jacked laughed with him. “But we should, since you made these four poor kids go home late all because of your date.” Barely out of his 30s, Father Jack was pretty cool. He didn’t get preachy, at least not that often, and he did offer Carson the job. He can give as good as he can get too, for a priest that is.

The van pulled up in front of the Academy, and Carson poured out onto the sidewalk. He wore cargo shorts down past his knees, board shoes, and light blue polo shirt (collared, which kinda sucks, but short sleeves which is way better than what he wore for the showcase). He straightened up and looked around for Grace. Not finding her waiting, he sighed relieved that he actually beat her to the door. Turning back to the van he shut the door and called out, “now shoo … shooo with you.”

No sooner did the van get away when he heard a voice behind him.

"Hey, Carson, Are you ready to go?”

He turned, and was immediately stunned. She was always pretty to him, but tonight she took it up a few notches. From the very feminine dress that accented her slight curves, to the new look her face has surrounded by the bloom of hair. Carson had to gulp down a few breaths at first only able to croak a greeting. Once his breath re-caught, he couldn’t help but to laugh at his own reaction.

Running his hand through his hair he stepped closer to her and quipped, “We will need to hurry though, Cinderella. Midnight will come soon and you will have to put all that hair back into a bun, and go back to those leotards you wear.” He took both her hands in his standing just a step down from her but leaving them both at the same head height. “I mean, those leotards show off your cute butt, but this you got on … and the hair … “ He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

Just as he did, the van, having turned around at the end of the block, drove by with four tweens hanging their heads out the window giving wolf calls to the couple.

Blushing a bit Carson shrugged, “don’t mind them, they had too much to drink.

-----

Arriving at the Boathouse things were just starting to get itself going. Music was playing mad tunes over a fairly empty dancefloor. Lights flickered near the arcade. The crash of pins erupted from the bowling alley. The families with the pizza hungry kids were already packing up and heading home, leaving the place to the fill with people Carson & Grace’s age.

At first, most of the Boathouse was nothing but noise. It wasn’t too crowded as yet, but it was hard to hear each other, and just wait until it fills up. So not to lose her, Carson grabbed Grace’s hand and started to maneuver her through the building. He was thinking just sliding over a short way to the snack bar, but it just felt too nice to have her soft hand embracing his. It felt natural, it felt normal.

But they didn’t come here to just wander around.

Spotting something he began to smirk, and pulled her into the arcade area. “Alright Bunhead, we both know you can dance, but the real question is if you can … Dance Dance Revolution!”

There in front of them was a wickedly big two person game, with lights flickering on the floor and fake people dancing to annoying club songs. Their task, to win over each other in a battle of who can follow directions better. “Because you are new to this, I’ll tell you how it works. The first one to lose three games has to remove your panties.” With a wink he jumped on the game and stuck money in, trying to get it started before she had time to object.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Grace couldn't help giggling at Carson's boyish glee as he pulled her to a stop in front of the monstrous game. Her hand felt warm, wrapped inside his strong grip, and the warmth coursed through the rest of her body, tucking her up in a cocoon of happiness. She hadn't said anything when Carson took her hand, instead the smallest of smiles had graced her lips as he led her through the growing throng of bodies.

The Boathouse was jumping, at least Grace assumed so since she'd never actually been to the place before. Kids at the academy were always talking about the nights they spent there and how much fun it was. Now was Grace's chance to see for herself, and she couldn't think of anyone she wanted there with her more than Carson.

“Because you are new to this, I’ll tell you how it works. The first one to lose three games has to remove your panties.” His devilish wink caused Grace's face to flush with a heady mix of embarrassment and, if she didn't know any better, excitement. Feeling emboldened Grace leaned towards him in order to be heard over the pulsing music coming from the dance floor.

"Who says you're getting anywhere near my panties tonight?" Her lips turned up in a teasing smirk as she jumped onto the game beside Carson. She didn't pause to wonder where her new found courage had come from. This was a night to be a new Grace, to seize the moment and enjoy life. This was a night for new adventures and experiences. And Grace was happy to have Carson at her side.

The music started up and she watched as the arrows scrolled up the screen. Carson moved quickly, his stomps lacking any sense of rhythm. Grace giggled as she watched him and the intensity with which he attacked each step. She, in turn, fumbled a few steps intentionally, letting her face slip into a mask of confusion as her feet missing obvious steps.

You fail! The monitor flashed bold neon letters.

"Guess you win this one." Grace, ever the gracious loser, said with a gentle shrug. "Round two?"

 

[ArcticAvenue]

Carson raised an eyebrow suspiciously, when he won the first round. He played the game a couple times back where he used to live, but was no expert. While he could throw down a 360° tail flip on a board without even blinking, he couldn’t hit the timing of the music if it was smacked over his head with a hammer. The soft summer dress twirled in the air as Bunhead made it all look easy, but still flopped a little bit here and there.

“If I wouldn’t know it any better …” he started saying then thought not. Long way to go in this one, and he was in it for the whole way.

As the readied for the second round he got into the small talk. “So I have a question for you.” The music started up and the two of them went at it. The thing yelling out ‘perfect’ and ‘great job’ over his words. “Why do you live at the Academy? Is it like a college or something and its just a dorm? Or does your family live nearby or something?” She took the second round pretty easily, as if she knew what she was doing.

“Just asking, because it seems I would have been run off by your dad by now, I would guess.”

The third round was like the first, he stumbled more than a fair share, but she seemed to stumble worse. Not just that, she seemed to do it on purpose. “Hey now, if you are throwing the game just to keep your panties out of my hands, I am going to have to change the rules on you.”

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Barely winded, Grace waited for the arrows to reach the top of the screen before she began to flub every few steps.

"Who says I'm throwing the game?" She asked, batting her eyes innocently as she hit the next five steps spot on.

Great job! The game squealed and Grace smiled triumphantly at Carson.

"See, I told you." She teased.

Where had this saucy little minx come from? Grace was shocking herself at the ease with which she interacted with Carson. It was as if she was a completely different person, flirting and laughing like a pro. Maybe she had learned something from Jenna after all.

You win! The words blinked across her screen. They were tied with two losses each.

Carson started up the next game.

"The academy is like a boarding school." She explained as they waited for the final round to start. "Students come from all around the country to study at Dubois, and, because we pretty much eat, sleep, and breath dance, it makes sense for everyone to live right on campus."

1...2...3...

Grace stumbled through the first few steps, nailed the next few, and stumbled again, trying to keep Carson from realizing she really was throwing the game.

"I actually came here from Iowa, my family has a farm out there." She said, focusing her gaze on the screen, her brow furrowed in feigned concentration. "My mom had her own dance studio there, but, as you can imagine, Iowa is not exactly the mecca of dance. Dubois is the premiere academy in the U.S. and I've wanted to go there ever since I was little."

She flubbed a few more steps as the game came steadily towards its end. The last few arrows were quickly making their way up the screen.

"Moving to Connecticut was a major adjustment." She continued talking, hoping to keep Carson from realizing she was blatantly missing those last steps. "But I'm sure you feel the same way."

The game ended and she looked from one screen to the other, waiting for the flashing words that would indicate the winner and loser.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

“Iowa farm girl, eh? Should have expected to see you in pony tails and daisy dukes, not tights and a bun.”

He was breathing a little heavy trying to keep up with her, but their scores were about even half way through the song. It was about as much fun talking at the moment than it was the prospect of what lay under that skirt of hers. Still, was she trying to throw the game? Or more bluntly, did she really plan to …

"Moving to Connecticut was a major adjustment. But I'm sure you feel the same way."

“Major adjustment,” Carson laughed. “You don’t know the half of it.” “Month ago, I was laying out on the beach in Florida, living on skittles & slurpies, and carving mad waves. Was like something to zero in a flash. But it was either that or … put up with more boring stuff, I guess.”

The numbers on the game rode higher as they grew closer and closer to the end. For fun, he was becoming a bit more daring with his moves. Spinning in the air to land on the right color arrows, hopping on one foot for repetitive moves. Not without a cost of course, as her numbers started outstretching his. Just as the end of the song neared, he hit a couple of steps wrong on purpose, throwing the game, and leaving her the champion.

“Awwwwwwwww, shucks,” he pantomimed complete with an overly animated snap of a finger in disgust. “You beat me.”

He put his hands onto his hips, blew out a long breath exaggerating his failure, then turned to her with a look on his face like someone who has got a hard day’s work ahead of him. “Alright them. Let’s get this done. Lift you dress and I pull’em off.”

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Slapping Carson's hands away playfully, Grace spun out of his reach, a teasing smile on her lips.

"Oh no you don't," Grace said, "we still have the whole night ahead of us." Leaning her hip against the back rail of the game, she cocked her head and added with a wink. "Besides, who said I was even wearing panties."

Her boldness brought a blush to her cheeks and Grace ducked her head, a wall of golden hair hiding the blush from Carson. Her ability to play the role of vixen had disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. The heat in her cheeks growing, the blush growing brighter, as she replayed everything she'd said so far that night. The innuendo and blatantly sexual talk finally bringing on the embarrassment she was so used to feeling.

She stepped off the platform, her leg wobbling slightly as she tried to gain her balance on her heels. Grace looked around the arcade, trying to figure out what to do next. She needed to regain her footing, to bring the night back to a place she was used to and to a conversation she could keep up with.

"C'mon," she said, making her way, slowly due to the wedge heels, "show me how this game works." She stopped in front of one of the games, sending a quick smile over her shoulder at Carson. "I've heard of skeeball, but never played it. What do I do?" Reaching down, she picked up one of the balls and turned it over in her hand. "Well? Any advice oh Master of the Arcade?" She grinned at Carson, hoping that the night could get back on course and they could just have a good time. Grace wasn't ready for anything sexual, she wasn't even sure if she was ready for a relationship. But she wanted to see where things went with Carson, she wanted to know if they could, potentially, have a future.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

From the moment the idea that she could be going commando under that summer dress, Carson’s mind started heading down the path of trying to find a way to see for himself. What was delightful teasing with the ballerina turned on it’s head slightly. He couldn’t hold back a devilish smirk as her cheeks blushed over, and he head ducked away. He watched every step she took as she descended the platform. In the dress and in the heels, he could see the accents of her slight curves as he imagined what lay underneath. Following her down, this sexy little beast moved more like the woman that he made out with in the back halls of the academy after her big performance, and less of the shy girl she usually can be.

She brought him over to the skeeball, and those bright eyes turned back to him. The cute little nugget from Iowa was back, and he tried to shake his head back to being something other than horney.

“Well, there are two ways to play this game,” he started with a sly undertone of something sarcastic about to come along. “Because you are a good girl who always follows the rules, I’ll teach how to play it the way suckers play it.”

He turned towards the game and took the ball from her hand. Doing so brought them closer and he could still feel the warmth from her body following the work-out on the dance machine. “It’s just like bowling, or whatever they do with pigs and corn out there in Iowa. You take the ball and roll it up the ramp, trying to score points, right?

“Stand aside and watch the master,” he said giving her a little push. “It’s all in the technique. First you cup the balls, or ball.” He did so putting both hands around the wooden toy. “Lean way over sticking your butt out,” his body mimiced his words to the point that he pushed his tail end out cartoonishly. “Be careful on the approach aaaannnndddd..” He shuffled his feet forward and made to do a large wind up, slowing to release the ball with good care.

The ball rolled up the ramp, jumped over the hoops, and fell into a hole marked ‘20 points’; well off target from the maximum 50 points.

He raised his fists into the air and gave a triumphant “Wooop!!!”

With a wide smile he turned back to her and shrugged. “Then collect tickets based on the score, and after spending about twenty bucks we will have enough tickets to share a mustache comb. Ready to give it a try?”

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Watching Carson's "technique," Grace couldn't help giggling at the way he stuck his butt out, his face all seriousness as he shuffled forward, arm moving in a wild windmill swing. As he moved forward, butt still jutting out, Grace couldn't help sneaking a quick glance at his backside. Her cheeks flushed, she was not acting herself lately. What was it about this boy that made her act like a sex starved woman? Okay, maybe not sex starved, but definitely a flirtatious and, dare she say, naughty woman. Grace felt out of her element around Carson, but, the more time she spent with him, she found herself enjoying the way she was slowly coming out of her box.

"Ready to give it a try?" Carson's gaze caught hers and Grace couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. He was like a little kid with his playful smirk and antics, a pervy little kid who kept trying to get under her skirt, but a little kid nonetheless. And Grace loved it. How long had it been since she'd let herself relax and have fun? Too long, that's for sure. For as long as she could remember dance had been her number one priority and life took a backseat to training. But no more. Now that she had Carson by her side, Grace was ready to live it up and, finally, find that balance between life and dance.

"I don't know," she said with a playful shake of her head, "maybe if you help me." She picked up another ball and looked at Carson, one eyebrow arched in a way that was meant as a challenge. Would he pick up on what she was asking? Grace certain hoped so. It was all she could do not to take his hands and physically pull him against her. Every cell in her body was singing out, begging to feel Carson pressed against her, his body molding to her curves.

"Well?" She asked, tilting her head and looking up at him through her lashes, playing the innocent (though she didn't have to play it up too much). "What do you say? Care to help a girl out?"

 

[ArcticAvenue]

That little minx!

Maybe someday he’ll figure out why he didn’t make a play on her sooner that night, rather than grabbing for a feel and fun when a clear opportunity rose, but now as she stands at the end of the skeeball ramp poised like the dancer she is ready for her partner to control her. With a wide smile, Carson simply decided to give the gal what she wanted.

He stepped up behind her as they turned back to the ramp, “so, like I told you before, you cup the ball …” He reached around her body lifting her fingers of both hands up to encircle the wooden sphere. Doing so, of course, meant he had to stand close behind her, but he took the extra step of allowing his body to press up to her. The small curve of her bottom touched up against his thighs. His chest laid against the upper curves of her back. His head laid just over her left shoulder where he could smell the sweetness of her shampoo.

“You pull back for the wind-up …” He brought their right arms back to prepare for the toss. He looked over her shoulder as the shift of her arm brought the top of the dress tight across her front. Her small breasts became accented by the movement and he studied them like someone expecting to see only the small glimpse at a celestial event.

“... and throw.” In the twist of their bodies to release the ball, her firm buttocks stroked against his thighs. Regardless of all the rest of the body did for him, that inadvertent brush focused all his mind towards the way it made his loins twitch in response. Even in its flaccid state, he felt the beginnings of an ache to press himself into her. With the ball on it’s way to the target, that touch was over.

So he reached for a second ball. “And again,” he said as he quickly for the new ball and moving back into position behind her. He still held her right hand in his, but this time he placed his left on her stomach to appear to hold her steady. “Hold it ...wind up ..” as they went through the motions of the wind-up, he could feel the tight abs under the dress. As she turned her shoulder to prepare to throw, the twist of her body moved his hand further down her stomach. So much so, that he became temptingly low enough to know if she bluffed before about what lay underneath her dress, But before he made that move, she threw the ball, turning her bottom once more against his thighs, and turned his attention back to what lay underneath his own clothes.

Together, and wordlessly, they reached down for a third ball. He turned his head, and he nuzzled into her neck slightly, whispering the commands to throw the ball. He began to feel drunk from her touch. His mind began to seize around the way her body moved against him. Each curve, each shape, enhanced the sensitivity of the feeling even more. When that ball fell away from her hand he had stopped even thinking about the game that started this, only how he wanted to score in a different way.

Quietly, he suggested, “Let’s go somewhere to be alone.”

 

[SweetAsSuga]

With Carson pressed tight against her, Grace felt eight years worth of suppressed hormones rushing to the surface. Where his skin touched hers, every nerve stood on end, as if struck by lightening. Electricity raced through, white hot, zipping from her fingertips to her toes and nestling deep in the pit of her stomach, twisting it into knots that were not entirely uncomfortable.

So used to following the lead of her male counterparts, Grace allowed Carson to move her body with his, their arms sweeping back before gliding forward to release the ball. It was natural and comfortable to follow Carson's lead, his body molded to hers. They fit together like puzzle pieces. With each movement she could feel him pressing tighter, could feel his gaze lingering on her small breasts, could sense that he was enjoying this closeness as much as she. Grace glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, the eager expression on his face making her smile.

Grace liked this, whatever this was. There was no doubt in her mind that Carson would be ready and willing to take things further should she so much as bat her long lashes at him. But Grace didn't know if she was ready. Innocent that she was the idea of sex both terrified and thrilled her. It wasn't just the physicality of the act, but the intimacy as well. In her eighteen years of life, Grace had never opened herself up to someone wholly and completely. Even Jenna, her best friend in the entire world, didn't know everything about Grace. But to go further with Carson would mean allowing someone to breach the walls that Grace had built around the darkest corners of herself. Could she really do that? Could she allow someone in to those parts of her heart and soul?

Carson nuzzled her neck, causing Grace to giggle. She released the third ball, letting it roll up the ramp, tracking its progress.

"Let's go somewhere to be alone." Carson's whisper sent shivers down her spine, his breath hot and sensual on her neck. She turned to look at him, her eyes wide, missing how the ball shot into the one hundred point hole.

"I..." her throat felt dry and tight as she met his gaze. His eyes earnest and inviting, a deep hunger lingering within his gaze. The very sight of that hunger was enough to take Grace's breath away.

This was the moment. Time for her decision. Grace's body begged for her to give in to her own desire, her own hunger to feel Carson pressed tightly against her, his lips on hers. But her mind screamed out for her to run, to turn and never look back. What Carson wanted from her was something she wasn't sure she was ready to give.

Without realizing what she was doing, Grace's head nodded slowly.

"Okay." She said, her voice rough. She forced herself to swallow, her hand wrapping around Carson's, their fingers intertwining. "Let's go."

 

[ArcticAvenue]

In line with the nautical theme of the Boathouse, the back end of the building sat along a dock covered in old time barrels, anchors, and fishing nets of all different sizes and shapes. The lights along the dock railing were dimmed to accent the night sky from the views that looked out over a small bay. The sky itself was black with the new moon, and freckled with the light of a million stars flushed across the sky. While a lone walker on the far side of the building wandered with a whistle across the old wooden dock, only the quiet wash of the low tide below striking against the piers suggested anything outside. Nestled back amongst the barrels, there was a wide bench with a back tucked under an arch of wooden slats. So close to the energy and noise of the Boathouse, this little alcove holds as much privacy as two young lovers could hope for.

It was here that Carson began pawing at Grace like a dog with a bone.

They move deftly through the crowd to the quiet spot hand in hand. He could feel the tense nervousness in her thin fingers. Every few steps he would look back as he lead with a trustworthy smile as the eagerness of what could come started playing in his mind. Stepping through a hallway, down past bathroom, his anticipation grew as the sound around them decrescendoed, until that moment they passed through the exit and it all went shockingly quiet. There past the safe surroundings of the loud public, and now it was just them alone in that little bit of private heaven.

He turned, walking backwards, and pulling her onto the bench. Immediately he threw his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. His lips searched out hers in the darkness and found it quickly. No sooner did they meet, he started opening his mouth to seek out hers. His hand moved down her leg to test the edge of her dress. He curled an arm around her shoulder just to feel her chest against his. He was aggressive, agitated, and as needful as a young man teased at the thought of getting close to the young dancer could be. The days and weeks of wondering what the touch of her athletic frame, the curve of her young bottom, the touch of her firm breasts lay right next to him now - no longer a fantasy but real. As much as he tried to compose himself the whole night, as much as he wanted to make her feel comfortable, was as much as he wanted to let go and make her squeal through orgasm after orgasm.

In this simple little place where they were finally alone, patience left him alone too.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

The darkness enveloped them, wrapping the young couple in a velvet embrace. Grace's eyes took a moment to adjust, the moon barely pierced the clouds overhead. The sound of water sloshing against the dock the only noise in the deep stillness. A contented sigh perched on Grace's lips, the dark was peaceful, the silence soothing after the cacophony inside.

She could feel Carson tugging her forward and allowed herself to be led. Following her partner was instinctive, letting him set the pace and dictate their movements was ingrained into her very soul.

The moon broke through the clouds, illuminating the dock and Carson's eager, almost boyish, smile. He pulled her down onto a solitary bench, the wood squeaking beneath as it gave way to their combined weight. Grace moved to tuck her skirt beneath her, acting the lady, but was quickly pulled towards Carson, his arm tight about her waist and his lips seeking hers with a desperate hunger. Grace couldn't help the girlish giggle that bubbled from her lips as she felt Carson's tongue caress her lower lip, his fingers digging impatiently into her waist as he pulled her tight against his body. Happy to comply, Grace wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers scrunching into the hair at the nape of his neck as she pulled his mouth tighter to her own.

The time for words was past. Here, in the dark, with the moon shining down on them, was the time for their bodies to do the talking as their lips were otherwise occupied. Grace's mouth opened beneath the determined probing of Carson's tongue. She could feel his fingers toying with the hem of her dress. His skin brushing against her thigh sent jolts of electricity coursing through her veins. Suddenly, the need to be ever closer filled Grace. Lips still pressed tightly to Carson's, she moved so that she was straddling his lap, her legs on either side of him, her body pressed as close to his as possible. Her breasts ached with a need she'd never felt before and her stomach knotted in a way that was not at all unpleasant.

No longer was Grace content to follow the lead of her partner. Going against everything that she had ever been taught - going against her very nature, indeed - Grace assumed dominance. With their lips still locked in a passionate kiss, Grace guided Carson's hands to her waist then up her stomach until she could feel the heat of his palms pressed just beneath her breasts. Her tongue dueled with Carson's hungrily as she pressed the most intimate part of her against him. A heat unlike anything she'd ever experienced nestled between her legs and Grace knew that she would not be content unless that heat, that desire, was satisfied. In the back of her mind she knew that she wasn't ready for anything more than this heavy make-out session, but that didn't mean the pair couldn't enjoy the moment to its fullest.

Inexperienced as she was, Grace gave in to her most basic of instincts. Allowing the sexual side of her, which had laid dormant for eighteen years, to finally rise to the surface, Grace pressed herself firmly against Carson's groin. The contact was enough to make her nerves stand on end. Her panties were instantly damp as she began to grind against Carson, a low moan rumbling in her throat. Grace had never even touched herself there before and the sensation was overwhelming. Now, Grace thought, she could finally understand what the fuss was about. Pressing harder against Carson, she could feel his own arousal pushing against her. The thought that she could have this kind of effect on anyone drove Grace. She rotated her hips faster, her panties getting wetter by the second as Carson's arousal pressed against her clit.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

Kissing the young dancer had always been unlike any girl he ever made out with. She always seemed to be this mess of youthful awkward newness that was equally eager to dive in. It was part of Grace’s charm, part of what made her sexy. That was there, but this was a different Grace. He pulled her ontop of him more for convenience with the bonus of having his hands free. When she embraced him in the kiss, there seemed nothing left of the shy girl he knew and gave him a rush of satisfaction to have her so close. When she brought his hands to her breasts, conscious thought took a back seat.

Her breasts felt wonderful under his hands. Firm, round, and eager as her body seemed to push them into his palms. He simply pushed back, mauling them under her dress. His fingers curled to match the curvature of the mounds and turned them in his hands firmly if not aggressively. His eyes closed, her mouth flush against his, and his hands firmly holding her chest; a vision that he replayed in his mind many times over wafted through - that of the first time he saw Grace dance, that time in the practice room when the other guy held her and moved his hands across her while she gave in to his touches. That vision came back to him as replayed in his own mind sometimes at night alone, how it would feel to hold her like that, to have her like that. Yet it was here, and real, and hungry for more.

What his body could not ignore was the pressure she placed on him. Straddling him, her dress had risen some on it’s own from her movement and now it’s hem lay near his belt where he could feel bare thighs on bare thighs, and her panty clad pelvis press into his. Under such intimate touch, his member had grown to full staff, and even twisted through his boxers to press against the zipper of his shorts. Carnally, it knew that two layers of clothing was not what it wanted between it’s throbbing and her sex, but as it found a groove to allow the couple to grind against the feeling wasn’t any less pleasurable.

At any moment of consciousness, Carson would be unstoppable from tearing the dress form her body and filling her cunny until it gushed with his built up seed. The only thing stopping him was the absolute pleasure of the moment. Grace, His Grace, pressing herself into him eager for him to touch her, her hips driving into his, and her tongue finding itself around his was the most erotic of life. Ignoring anything that could happen beyond this moment, he pushed on, pressed on, letting his little dominant dancer drive him closer to the edge.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

A war raged within Grace - the need for air battling against the desire to never break the most amazing kiss that she'd ever experienced in her short life. The passion and lust that coursed through Grace's veins was fueled by the feel of Carson's hands on her breasts and his arousal pressing against her. She was in heaven and she never wanted these feelings to stop. But the need to breathe was too great and, reluctantly, Grace forced her lips to part from Carson's.

Her hands wrapped around the back of his head, her fingers twining together as she rested her forehead against his. With eyes closed she wanted to soak in the moment. Her swollen lips parted as she gasped for air, her chest rising and falling with each labored breath. No doubt Carson could feel her heart pounding against the palm of his hand as he continued to knead the tender flesh of her breast.

"That...was..." Grace was at a loss for words as she struggled to catch her breath. Her eyes fluttered open and her gaze, soft and loving, met his. The look in Carson's eyes made her stomach clench in that way she was learning to enjoy. The one that sent fire coursing down between her legs. Her body was still against his, the heat of the moment fading into something different. Grace wasn't sure what it was, but the urgency of the moment had passed and was replaced by something that Grace could not put her finger on. New as she was to all of this she was still learning how to read the desires of her own body let alone the desires of another. This new feeling...it wasn't just the primal sexual hunger that had filled her only moments before. It was something far more...intimate.

Still in Carson's lap, Grace sat back, taking his hands in hers. She held their hands up to the moonlight, watching as their fingers twined together.

"What are we doing, Carson?" She asked softly, afraid to break the spell of the moment. "I don't want us to be just...this." She looked down to where their bodies met, then back up to meet his gaze. "I need to know if you're serious about me, about us, before we can ever do anything more."

Perhaps this wasn't the right time for a discussion of such importance. Grace knew that Jenna would probably hit her upside the head right now if she'd been there. But Grace had never been an impulsive person and, thought every fiber of her being was demanding that she shut up and kiss Carson and continuing humping him like a bitch in heat as she'd just been doing, she needed to know that Carson wasn't after only sex. Grace had to know that they were going somewhere. She liked Carson a lot and the fact that she was willing to even consider a relationship - or whatever the heck this was - with him meant something. She just wanted to know whether or not they were on the same page.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

At first he was happy for the timid way she took his hands. She seemed happier than he had ever known her and watched as she playing with his fingers in the cool night air. For the last few minutes, the two rolled themselves closer to ecstasy. While both remained fully clothed, all sense of decency was lost in the need to drive to physical release. The thin frame of the ballet dancer yielded to his touches, and something let go in her to allow him to bring out the sexual beast she did so well to hide over all the time they have known each other. It was a side of Grace that Carson never expected, but he thoughtlessly welcomed and engulfed that side in his own carnal need. During her wriggling and grinding he could feel those places he wondered if he’d ever see, and both responded to those touches with the hope of more. While his climax was growing as his member sawed at her sex, the only thing that slowed down him down seemed to be being able to watch her build to her own climax.

But when she began to back off, he grew confused. Surely she had not … gone off, but he certainly hadn’t and there was no way he was going to hide that very fact. As she slowed to catch her breath, he tried to catch his own breath. He just took it as she was needing a breather, too much too fast. That’s fine, that happens, especially to a newbie. With the way her full hair cascaded over her face, the way the moon glowed against her silhouette, and the way that the bright eyes watched him he felt better about himself than he ever had in his whole life without realizing at all why. An opportunity to pause, regroup, and dive in for more. She maybe new to this, but he wasn’t. Seeing her sitting above him in the night was as thrilling to him as anything else she could have done and it fed him to be ready to keep going at the first sign that she was ready.

Then she spoke.

It took a moment it for her words to register. But there they were.

"I need to know if you're serious about me, about us, before we can ever do anything more."

When she broke the spell of the moment, Carson damn near roared in agony. Not that her words were It felt like someone took a bucket of cold water and poured it over his torso. Worse yet, it left his stiffness up against her sex and while someone took a hammer to his balls.

“Serious?” he blurted. He started to bump his head against the bench behind him. “Serious … I am …” His words spat from his mouth in the broken stream of what he was trying to think and what he was trying to say. Whatever filter there was to keep words in his mouth or in his head turned off and it broke up between the two randomly. While they came out in sticcato statements, what he said was disconnected thoughts.

Never being one that focused very long on a girl, the frustration of weeks of patience began to bubble up. For weeks he was chasing after this girl. “For Weeks!” it came out.
“Not once did I …” did he even try to push her further than she seemed to let him.
All those nights he would go to bed thinking about here, and all those times he stayed away from other girls leaving him with his only option to, as he blurted: “ .. use my own hands on it.”
“I mean, I’ve tired … Show you that ..” His hands gestured to his pelvis.

He looked down at where his member still tented up against his shorts, and from under her skirt he could feel it pressing upwards into her.

His mind stopped in it’s tracks. What are you doing Carson, what is the problem.

“Jesus!! I … I’m sorry ...” he words said as he realized the remaining problem, one that pressed between them stronger than her questions. At that moment he realized he again asks too much. He let his horny cock try to fuck her through her clothes, on a dark bench even. Then whatever garbage that has been coming out of his mouth was just making it worse. He couldn’t even look at her, didn’t even want to see how she would react.

He struggled under her, trying to get to his feet, trying to not touch her with his erection, but it seemed to slap into everything like a freshly caught fish in the hand. He stumbled a bit to the edge of the pier, immediately keeping his back to her, pressing his hands into his pants trying to hold it at bay. “Just … just give me a minute ..” he pleaded, not even sure what he was doing. “One Minute, One Minute,” he fired.

Now he realized he shouldn’t had pulled away from her, not after what she just experienced and not at all after what she just asked him.

“Fuck Fuck!” This is it, this is where he screws it all up. The end was coming faster than he could stop it.

“I mean … I didn’t mean … I meant to say things but not like this. Just … just give me a minute okay?”

He kept turned away, shaking his head, frustrated and angry and a hundred other feelings running through his mind. There was nothing he could do to make that damn hardon go away, and pressing on it was just making it push back.

“I don’t get serious, I mean. That’s not what happens. For me.”

He grimaced and looked over his shoulder towards her only if to make sure she is still there. “Wait wait,” he tried to continue quickly.

“Its like the shirt. That shirt from your big performance.”

He shook his head, wondering himself what the heck he was talking about.

“I hate sleeves, you know. I hate them, I really do. And I got it for the big dance, and I got it from Father Jack at The Cave. It’s the guy that gave me a ride, you know.”

He stopped, he breathed hard, he collected his mind. He practiced this once. Practiced it in a mirror. Just that morning.

More calmly he recited. “I have to tell you something. Something that I can’t say easy because, it’s not me. You know?”

At this point he didn’t even want to look back at her, he just wanted to say it.

“I got this job at this youth place at the mall, called The Cave. It’s run by this priest, Father Jack, who’s cool for a priest. But … the thing is. I hate jobs, though. I hate church even. But …” He paused briefly. “And he said I should look into counseling. Says I am good at it. Says the way I talk to the kids there, they listen to me and they like me that I should do that. Father Jack even gave me this brochure for a school here in town. They got some degree for that. If it been my dad who said that and gave me that brochure … Jesus Fuck! I hate school. My dad would slip me brochures and I would go burn each and every one of them. But I didn’t burn this one, I didn’t I promise, I read it even.”

He had calmed. He spoke slower. Standing in the moonlight, at the edge of the pier, his hands still at his groin.

“I am serious, Grace. I hate being serious but I am serious. I didn’t mean to push you, I never did, Grace. Like I didn’t mean to get you in trouble at the academy or piss off Sasha or all the other shit I did. I know they are more of what you should be with, I’ve known that for weeks. I hate jobs, Grace. I hate school. I hate sleeves. I thought nothing would change, or I wouldn’t change. It doesn’t suck though, its alright. If it did suck, I think I still would change.”

His throat caught. By Jesus H Christ, why the hell is his throat catching.

“I don’t change for anyone, Grace.”

He swallowed hard, and looked to find her in the dark,

“But I did … for you.”

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Huddled up on the bench, her knees tight to her chest, Grace watched with tears in her eyes as Carson paced back and forth. His hands were a blur as he ranted and raved. Grace felt like someone had punched her in the gut as he cursed rapidly.

“Fuck Fuck! I mean … I didn’t mean … I meant to say things but not like this. Just … just give me a minute okay? I don’t get serious, I mean. That’s not what happens. For me.”

A lump lodged in Grace's throat and she tried to swallow but her mouth felt filled with cotton. He didn't care about her. It was clear in the way that he refused to look at her, the way his shoulder hunched as he turned his back on her. Grace felt like a fool. She should have known that a guy as experienced as Carson wouldn't want her. Rather that he would only want one thing from her.

Heat rose up the back of her neck and Grace ducked her head, her hair falling to form a curtain around her flushed face. The tears slid slowly down her cheeks as she berated herself for falling for Carson when she knew that it could never last. She had hoped that it could, that her worst fears would be proved false. But Carson was proving that she was right to stop things when she had. What would have happened if she'd let them continue? No doubt he would have left after he'd gotten what he wanted and Grace would never have heard from him again.

Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, as if to ward off the shame and embarrassment that were attacking her, Grace stood on shaky legs. The warped wood of the dock groaned beneath her feet.

“Wait wait,” His tone was urgent, his hands hanging in the air between them as if he wanted to reach out and stop her.

Pulling away from him before he could touch her, Grace's arms tightened around her waist. God how she wished to be anywhere else at that moment. She didn't need to see the earnest look in Carson's eyes. Her resolve was flimsy enough, she did not need his dark eyes trapping her within his grasp.

"Why should I." She muttered, her voice wavering as she tried to put on a brave face. "You've made it very clear that you don't want anything serious. Well I can't do that, Carson." Her head hung low as she stared at the dock as if it could give her all the answers she so desperately craved.

“I have to tell you something. Something that I can’t say easy because, it’s not me. You know?”

There was something about his tone. A desperation that nearly matched Grace's own. Slowly, she raised her bloodshot, tear filled eyes to his.

“I don’t change for anyone, Grace. But I did … for you.” She could hear the catch in his voice and, though it shouldn't have, his misery brought the ghost of a smile to her lips.

"I didn't ask for you to change, Carson." She said softly. Tentatively, she took a step towards him. Placing a hand gently on his arm she slid her hand down until her fingers were wrapped up with his. "I would never ask you to change. You are who you are. But I am who I am, too."

Her gaze searched his, silently begging him to understand what she was saying.

"You were the first boy, the only boy, I've ever kissed. You can't expect me to just fall into bed on the first date. Heck, even the second, third, maybe even twentieth date may be too soon for me. I've lived my whole life knowing what I want. A relationship never factored into that. But then I met you and suddenly my mindset changed."

Her fingers tightened around his and she placed a soft hand on his cheek.

"I like you Carson, a lot, and that scares me. It scares me because suddenly I want to do these things that I've never thought about. My whole life I've been extremely self-controlled and disciplined about what I do, but you make me want to throw all that out the window. I can't, though, no matter how much I may want to. You need to understand that I'm going to need time, that there have to be boundaries that we can't cross. Can you accept that?"

 

[ArcticAvenue]

She searched for his eyes, and she found them. Her delicate fingers surrounded his. The overwhelming embarrassment of the last few minutes was draining away. She opened up to him on what he guessed anyway. She was as innocent as he thought, as scared of the unknown, and as unsure as he was of what could become of all this. When she placed her hand on his cheek, he was done. Melted. The old in for a dime cliche had him now in for a dollar.

He wanted to tell her about feelings he was feeling. He wanted to reassure her she never forced anything onto him. He thought he could even make her believe that he can be the man she wanted him to be. But that’s easier wanted then said.

He smiled to her and he winked. “I can accept you with your hair down, can’t I BunBun?”

Turning to her, he circled his arms around her waist. “I know this is scarey for you, but don’t worry so much about what could happen. I mean, you are one up on me … I’ve never kissed a boy. I am sure it was all gross and stuff. But if giving you time is what it takes to be your boyfriend … I can accept that.”

Of course moving close to her again brought their bodies close once more, and in that moment he realized his problem that made him leap out from underneath her had calmed some. With a smirk and a glimmer in his eye, he quipped, “Of course if you keep showing off those panties, Little Carson will likely cause trouble for the both of us like he almost did tonight.”

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Grace couldn't help but laugh at Carson's quip. With his arms wrapped around her, Grace's hormones were, once again, making their presence known. But this time she would not let them control her. Especially after the impassioned speech she'd made about needing time.

She wrapped her arms around Carson's neck and pressed her lips against his in a gentle kiss.

"Thank you," she said, her voice soft in the stillness of the evening. Pressing her forehead against Carson's, Grace closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Though her body was pressed against his, and her hormones were begging her to repeat her earlier actions, the moment held a sense of intimacy that was far better than anything Grace had experienced before.

Raucous laughter broke through the serenity as a group of teens stumbled out of the Boathouse joking and flirting with each other.

Reluctantly, Grace pulled out of Carson's arms, her skin instantly cooling in the evening air. Goosebumps rose on her flesh and she rubbed her arms quickly to warm them.

"C'mon," she said, taking Carson's hand in hers, "let's go back in. I want to see those dance moves of yours."

She led Carson back into the club, which had filled in their absence and was now crowded with teens of all ages. Bodies moved across the dance floor in a giant, undulating wave. She spotted a few students from the academy and, before they could spot her, turned away and guided Carson to a semi-empty spot on the dance floor.

"Alright skater boy," she leaned in close, her lips brushing slightly against Carson's ear as she fought to be heard over the pulsing music. "let's see what you got." She stepped back, a smile on her lips as she moved with the music.

This was what Grace loved about dancing, the freedom of it all. Her hips moving in time with the music, her body floating on the beat like a ship on the ocean. Bodies swarmed around her, their energy feeding into hers. She closed her eyes, feeling the vibrations of the bass pressing against her chest. Mind and body separated, Grace moved freely with the music, pushing aside the strict structure of dance she was used to she allowed herself to be completely free.