The lights on the bridge twinkled fittingly. His face, carefree and melancholic, framed with long eyelashes that hid tender affection amid a tinge of enticing frivolity. This was the kind of man he was in his childhood, adolescence, adulthood, and even as he matured into the future.
He was exactly what women desired.
Born to be their bane.
Yvonne Finley found herself drawn closer to him by his hand. Leaning against the bridge rail, he stretched out his long legs to match her height, sparing her the neck strain from looking up for too long. His slightly cool knuckles caressed her skull, ears, spine, seemingly carelessly lingering over every spot, randomly lighting a few fires.
"Sis."
His jaw tilted upwards, his nose and lips grazing over hers gently, his lazy act was like that of a seasoned playboy; he laughed, his throat vibrating slightly, "Your body's so firm."
