101 Writing Prompts

#35. Cherry Red

Prompt: Cherry red lip gloss, ocean surf, scales and a murder. 

The first thing he noticed about her were her lips, full and a glossy, cherry-red that couldn't be natural. Perfect cupid-bows twisted up in a smile that could melt any guy's heart in an instant. He was transfixed by the highlights and shadows that danced across those lips, mirrored in the sweltering summer sun. 

Her hourglass figure was outlined by the blue waves, the crash of the seafoam and the curve of her waist, her walk that made her look exotic, hips thrust to both sides that made you transfixed. You had to watch her. He gaped as she took a handful of her long auburn hair and threw it over her shoulder, all nonchalance, even though she looked like a model from one of those  shampoo commercials with long, flowing locks. His eyes traced up to her eyes, a brilliant blue echoed by the waves, shining with humor, a joke he would never know. Her feet tread patterns in the sand as she sauntered past him, and he was hers. 

It was that simple. 

She was watching him from the corner of her brilliant eyes, watched as his jaw slackened and he mooned over her figure, staring too long in all the wrong places. Even though the sun was beating down mercilessly a shiver ran up her spine, but she forced herself to pivot and cast him a flirtatious smile.

He was hooked in an instant, eyes raking over her. What a creep. 

With measured steps she wandered over to him, eyes catching on the seagulls or a little kid running down onto the beach, never quite meeting his eyes. Feigning shyness, that powerful aura she had worked so long to create. Eyes anywhere but on the naked-to-the-waist college boy lounging on the beach, staring at her with hunger and intrigue. 

He fawned over her in his mind, his perfect beach beauty who had come to see him. She was the image of perfection, cherry-red lips, fiery hair and a feisty personality that was almost tangible, eyes more beautiful that the sky and speckled with stardust. His. She was his.

"What's your name, goddess?" He drawled, and she thrust her weight to one hip, chewing on her perfectly glossed lip. Peering at him from beneath her lashes. 

"Lila, goddess." She taunted, scrunching up her nose, and he could see the smallest spray of freckles on her face, light against her flawless tan. She may as well have been bathed in light bronze. Flawless. 

"Well, Lila, you gonna ask what my name is?" He offered, smiling roguishly, and she tilted her body forward and leaned back on her heels.

"Do I wanna? You look like trouble, mister." She pursed her lips, even fuller than before, and he struggled to reply. 

"I think you know you want it." He rolled onto his back and squinted into the sun, waves of heat crashing down on the beach without mercy. A bead of sweat traced its way down from his hairline to his jaw, but he didn't brush it away. Lila, the goddess Lila, wasn't even sweating. He glanced her way again, eyes following the hem of her cutoff jean shorts, those strands of denim over her bronzed, shapely legs. 

"Where are you from, goddess?" He asked, and the girl leaned back, placing her hand on her chin, mocking thought. A thin line of gold traced her nails, speckled with sand, bright against the bronze. 

"I'm from nowhere, mister. How about you?" 

"I think you're from heaven, goddess girl." 

"If you pull that 'did it hurt when you fell from heaven' line, I'm going to have to hurt you." Her lips pouted into a frown and her hair lit up when a wayward beam of sunlight lit upon it. His breath came short in the face of her fire. What he would give to kiss those lips, feel that spirit against his own...