I’m standing here, in this hotel room, the door open just a crack, the carpet soft beneath my heels. She’s got that look in her eyes, the one that says she’s ready for anything. Her white dress hugs her curves, the off-shoulder cut showing just enough skin to make my mouth dry. She’s holding her clutch, fingers tapping against the leather, a nervous energy that’s all too familiar. The room is dim, the towels on the dresser neatly folded, a stark contrast to the chaos in my mind.
Her Whispered Invitation
She leans in, her breath hot on my ear.
