I feel powerful, strong, desired in a way I’ve never felt before, and it’s a potent sensation as his eyes rake over every inch of my body. He doesn’t linger on my muffin top, or the fact my boobs aren’t as perky as they were when I was in my twenties. He doesn’t seem to notice my double chin—God knows it’s probably a triple chin from the angle he’s looking up at me. All I see when I look down at him is lust. Desire. A glint of mischief that he’s been driving me wild with since I arrived on his doorstep.
