**Darius's POV**
Drunk Allison. Drunk *fucking* Allison is a walking temptation, a man's undoing. She becomes someone else entirely—driven by a wild, intoxicating need I can barely wrap my mind around.
I'm frozen, rooted to the ground like prey caught in a predator's gaze, my mouth dry and hands balled into fists at my sides. It's too late to turn back—she's acting on whatever cocktails she's downed, and there's no stopping her. My mind is reeling, and yet all I can focus on is the sight in front of me. God, her breasts—so flawless, so perfectly rounded. Her nipples, hard and demanding, point toward me, as if calling out, aching for my touch.
Why the *hell* am I thinking like this? Is this even thinking? My tongue feels thick in my mouth, my throat tight. My eyes betray me, glued to the sensual curve of her hips that taper into the tantalizing V of her thighs. Every inch of her is burned into my mind, a sight I don't want to forget.
