Down on the smokey dance floor Gomez and Morticia were dancing bachata. All kinds of scary ghouls and creepy lost souls were flailing around them but at the moment they only had eyes for each other. She lifted a bent leg and hooked it around his hip. Usually she wore tight, long dresses concealing her legs, but tonight she wore one with a bald split revealing inches of tantalizing marble skin in a way she usually only did during their private time together. The sight of her naked skin turned him on. He held her eyes while he caressed the sensitive skin at the back of her thigh with a strong, warm hand. Her eyes narrowed in a feline and ultimate sexy way as she leaned closer to him. Morticia loved to dance like this: Soft, slow and sensual and oh -so- very intimate. It was almost like they were already making love, but on a mental level. She felt so close to him in moments like this, no words needed, just the music, the eye contact and the energy moving between their bodies and souls.

To touch her, to be with her, to dance with her- he had done so for years and still it would never become just another pleasant habit. There was this strange thrill of newness to every sensation. How the silkiness of her thigh against his palm made him curious about the rest of her body-like if he hadn't had her more than a thousand times already. Like if he were to conquer her for the very first time tonight. And her eyes, the way she played with them, dragging him into her world. The eyes of his cara mia, filled with tease and love and exquisite darkness…and something more- something he had no name for. She had been in his arms so many glorious times, she had birthed his children, lived under his roof for more than a decade- and yet she remained a mystery to him. She cast a spell on him the first time he laid eyes on her and he never wanted to be freed from it.

His eyes followed the sway of her hips. Like a snake, he thought, like a lovely, black and venomous snake. Silent and terrible and cool in the night while he grew hotter and hotter. A sudden urge to bend her down on the dance floor, give into his most primal instinct and take her hard and fast in front of every paranormal freak in the club, rushed through him. Control yourself, old man, he murmured to himself.

- Did you say something, darling?

Morticia spoke with her mouth against his ear. He could feel the puff of warm air from her breath, the sweet smell of her hair, her breasts touching his chest through layers of luxurious clothing and it made him dizzy. He was surrounded by her intoxicating presence.

- You drive me insane, mi diosa.

- Je le sais, mon cher.

- Tish!

Morticia couldn't help but laugh at the tortured way her name escaped his lips.

- Self control, she whispered, and raked the tips of her nails over his cheek.

He grabbed her hand and squished her wrist so hard it made her moan in delightful pain.

- Later, mon sauvage…right now I need a drink.

Gomez restrained himself and let go of her wrist kissing the bruise starting to form on the delicate skin.

-Of course cara mia, whatever you want.

- I just need a glass of water, my love. With lots of ice in it.

- As milady wishes! Gomez took her arm and hurried against the bar, eager to fulfill her humble wish.

They walked around looking for a free table in the crowded club. Vampires, werewolves, zombies and other creatures occupied every chair in sight. Gomez scanned the room impatient,he knew his darling really needed to sit down for a while. She didn't have his stamina when it came to physical activities like long walks and dancing. Finally he glimpsed an empty chair by a small table in a dank corner. He moved towards it and as he reached the table he noticed a couple sitting on a nearby table with an empty chair next to them. They seemed to be locked in a loving embrace leaning over the table. The lady wore a distinguished looking light blue ball gown, her yellow hair loose and covering her face and shoulders. The gentleman wore an outfit that made Gomez think of the glorious heydays of the guillotine. His impressive white wig were tangled in his lovers golden locks.

Gomez made a polite cough.

-Excuse me…I don't mean to interrupt your lovely evening, I was just wondering about the free chair? Do you mind if we take it?

No response. The couple kept their heads together in silent conspiracy. Morticia lifted a suspicious brow. She glided around the table to look at their faces. She gasped and her eyes widened.

-Gomez…come over her, she whispered without moving her eyes away from what she saw.