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Her breath is short as she watches me in the gloom.
I don’t touch her. I put distance between us instead, but inside my heart is racing, the desire impossible to contain. Hungry and horny, full of desire to lose myself in that beautiful body.
I take a step closer.
“I never. . .”
“I know that beautiful Zoe.” I run my finger along the strap of her dress, playing with it.
“Every time you touch me, my whole body tingles.”
“Physical attraction,” I say, trying to convince both of us.
She doesn’t answer, just staring at me with those eyes like gemstones.
I turn on the central sound system on my phone, and a slow song starts playing.
“Let’s dance?” She smiles, full of shyness.
“Why not?” I offer my hand, and she comes close.
Before taking her in my arms, I take off my blazer and set it on a chair.
When I finally have her next to me, she looks impatient and hugs me.
“Is it normal to feel so safe and intimate with someone I barely know?”
“Explain. I want to hear it. Tell me what you’re thinking right now,” I whisper in her ear.
“Being near you makes me shivery and shaky. I don’t know the script in a situation like this, but I want it all.”
I bite her ear lightly, and she moans. I reach for the zipper behind her and unzip the simple, short, blue dress, the color of her eyes.
“I don’t feel so shy around you, and that’s weird.”
“Maybe our bodies recognize each other.”
“Do you believe in that? Destiny?”
She’s just in lingerie and heels now. I pull away to look at her.
She tries to cover her breasts and the front of her panties, looking very embarrassed.
“No, I want to see it all.”
She pulls her hands apart and looks at me. The innocence on her face stirs something deep inside me.
“You’re beautiful, Zoe Turner. And to answer your question, I don’t know if I believe in destiny, but I do believe the universe lines up for things to happen. A minute more or less”—I get closer and place my hands on her slim waist—“and we would never have met, but here we are.”
Everything in me pulses, throbs, and burns for her like a fire that cannot be put out.
Desire for Zoe is like a raging storm in full strength.
I tell myself there’s no reason to rush—she’s here right now; she’s mine—but a feverish lust grips my body and mind.
She seems to sense my need, and her fingers play with the buttons on my shirt.
“Open them,” I command.
