She tilts her head, copper hair spilling across one shoulder, mouth curved into something between a dare and a promise. Freckles dust her collarbone like punctuation marks on skin that flushes easily.

Her eyes hold yours without blinking — the kind of eye contact that makes your throat tight. She already knows exactly what you're thinking, and the slight parting of her lips confirms she's thinking it too.

This redhead doesn't wait to be asked twice. She reaches forward, fingers curling with quiet authority, and whatever plans you had for the next hour are already gone.