Page 24 of Eat Slay Love

Music rose from nowhere and everywhere, a sensual mix of jazz and deep, throbbing bass.

Alright now.

The music made me want to dance, but I kept it chill and simply walked forward. That was when I caught the sound of Mr. Lyon keeping a smooth pace behind me.

He must have been barely three feet away.

Next. . .I felt it again.

His gaze.

Not just on me.

But, directly on my ass.

Oh. Really, Mr. Lyon?

Every woman with a big ass had this super power—a built-in, factory-installed feature, like a sixth sense.

And currently, every single sensor in my ass was going off.

Mr. Lyon wasn’t just looking.

He was locked onto my ass.

Not just noticing.

It was a he-would-sell-his-soul-to-bite-my-ass kind of stare.

It was a weighted presence, like a hand hovering just above my skin.

Like an invisible grip on my curves.

Like he was measuring.

Memorizing.

Devouring.

Worshipping.

And my ass?

My ass had the nerve to love the attention.

I kept walking, trying to act completely unfazed, but inside?

Inside, I was absolutely giddy.

Next, a low, rough, guttural sound came from deep in his chest.

Oh.

A sound a man makes when he wants something.

Badly.

I bit my lip to keep from grinning.

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