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He watched the young woman gazing at the screen of her phone, her carry-on bag tucked protectively under her arm, keeping her posture in check. She smiled to herself as she waited for her chauffeur to pull up, absently tucking a twist of hair behind her ear while the rest flowed in radiant waves down her neck. It was auburn, her hair. He was partial to auburn.

It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see.

The quote came to him as he admired her. Did she appreciate the works of Thoreau? Was the gentle smile that played on her lips caused by a literary piece she read as she stood beneath the airport awning? He wanted to believe she took pleasure in thoughtful poetry and prose. Words seduced when conveyed with the proper finesse.

As she stepped into the limousine, he noticed her legs beneath her checkered skirt. They were toned, reflecting a life of sport and play, and they tapered gracefully to slender ankles. Perfect for kissing... or binding. He felt his arousal at the thought of exploring her legs to their meeting place. A treasure every man sought to possess, and one that should be given up willingly. 

He had his work cut out for him.

PLAYLIST SONG: Fitzpleasure by Alt J






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