God, watching her move is like watching the most beautiful sculpture come to life underneath the artist’s hands. She owns the room. And the funny thing is that she is completely unaware. I shake the ice around in my glass, moving the last drips of what is left to the bottom so that I can join her. She loves to dance. I love to watch her unsuspecting prey. They think that they have a certain power over her because she allows them to lead. Tonight, she is toying with someone who knows what he is doing. I won’t let this one go on too long.
I walk across the dance floor. I feel the air shift as bodies move around me. The hair on my arms stand erect as I watch him pull her closer. I know she can feel the outline of his body through his sweat-dampened clothes at this point. I intend on replacing that feeling as soon as I can. I reach out for her hand. Her lips curl at the sides showing me her sexy smirk. Holy hell this woman is something else. The timing is perfect; her feet shift to me without even interrupting the beat. I never understand how she does this. It’s as if the music folds itself around her, not her to the music. I press my lips to her neck, inhale as much of her as I can. We move together. There is no one else. Sliding my fingertips across the delicate skin of her face, I turn her lips to mine. I need to devour her.