Page 288 of The Winslow Brothers

Purposefully, I let my head fall back, elongating my neck and pushing out my breasts in a way most men can’t deny. With a thick ass and prominent hips, I’ve always been a curvy girl. Though, it took me years to find confidence in my body. The outside pressures of society making impressionable teenage girls think skinny was the only way to be sexy was a hard obstacle to overcome.

Obviously, now, I know that to be an outright lie. Sex appeal and confidence come in all shapes and sizes. It’s skinny. It’s curvy. And it stems from how you feel about yourself.

I feel the moment he notices me. His eyes flit across my face and then take a slow, seductive once-over of my body.

Game on.

“Hi,” he mouths, and that devil-may-care smile is back. It’s so damn good,so appealing, I swear it urges goose bumps to roll up my arms and neck.

But I know this isn’t the type of guy you immediately show you’re interested.No way.You have to slow roll him. Make him feel like there’s a test he has to pass to win your attention.

I keep dancing, only letting the hint of a smile show on my face.

He moves closer to me then, the distance between us now mere inches rather than feet, and I look up at him purposefully with big, curious eyes.

“Wanna dance?” he asks, his voice a seductive whisper that somehow finds its way over the music and into my ears.

I shrug. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“Are you married?” I question, and he smirks at the forwardness of it.

“No.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Also no.” That smirk of his morphs into an amused smile. “You?”

I make a show of looking at the space around me. “As you can see, I’m here by myself.”

A raspy chuckle jumps from his throat. “You know what I meant.”

“And there’s no husband or boyfriend waiting for me at home either.”

“So…now that we have that out of the way…how about that dance?”

“A dance?” I tilt my head to the side and let my gaze wash over him. “With you?”

He steps closer. “Well, doll, I am the one who’s asking.”

“But are you fun?”

His responding smile could melt panties off a mannequin. “I’m the most fun a girl could ever have.”

That cocky confidence of his should probably be off-putting, but somehow, it makes him more appealing. You have to be one cool motherfucker to sell yourself that well.

“Okay.” I shrug one shoulder with nonchalance. “Sure. Why not.”

He’s not eager like I expect. Instead, he drags it out, slows it down, and that shows me he’s a man who knows what he’s doing.

Gently, he reaches out and takes my hand into his. All the while, his blue eyes never leave mine.

His thumb caresses the top of my hand, my fingers, and doesn’t stop until it hits the ring I always wear on my right ring finger.

He looks down at my hand, focuses, and smiles. “Is that a mood ring?”

I nod as his steady gaze comes up to search mine.

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