Page 25 of Eat Slay Love

Well. . .let’s have some fun.

I adjusted my posture, shoulders back, spine straight, chin up, and decided—fuck it. If he was going to stare at my ass like it was a five-course meal, then I was going to give him a damn show.

I put just a little more sway into my hips.

Not much.

Just enough to create a sinful jiggle.

Another dark groan left him, so low and guttural I nearly stumbled.

Will I need to call the police on this man?

The thought made me want to laugh, but I held it in, loving this feeling of being wanted.

No.

Not just wanted.

Desired.

And then, boldly, deliberately, I reminded myself of the most important thing before any self-doubt could rise.

I am worthy. I am deserving.

Within this tunnel, heat lingered in the air—not stifling, but intoxicating.

Every step I took made the floor glow slightly beneath my feet, fading as I moved forward, as if the tunnel were responding to me.

And through it all—I still felt him.

His presence right behind me as well as the weight of his gaze.

The knowing that if I slowed down, even slightly, he’d be right there.

Too close.

Too much.

Too overwhelming.

And I fucking LOVED it.

I swallowed, trying to steady my breath. But my skin felt warm, my heart wouldn’t settle, my body was so hyper-aware of his presence it was maddening.

Then, his sexy voice curled through the air, low and direct, cutting through the haze of heat like a blade of silk. "I must confess something."

I glanced at him over my shoulder, heat still thrumming through me. "Yes?"

Then, just like that, he got beside me, and it was so damn smooth.

So fluid.

He slipped his gaze down my curvy body, and that French accent coated his words. "I was waiting for your foolish date to arrive."

I quirked my brows. "Foolish?"

His green eyes flickered with something unreadable. "What man would let someone as gorgeous as you walk intoanyspace by herself? Surely he would know that a man like me would be waiting on the side, waiting to. . ."

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