Fuck. I don’t want to spook her—but then again, I don’t know that what I do want to do is that much better. She’s so young, too young to invite back to my place, too young to pull up into a hidden balcony so I can drop to my knees and find out how she tastes… God, I should walk away. Stick to my usual buffet of socialites and strippers. But even though I straighten up to go, I can’t actually make my body move away from her. Those copper-tinted eyes. That luscious mouth. It wouldn’t hurt just to talk, right?
