Any chance you’d eat me on a first date

You spot this petite figure across the table and already your mind has abandoned dinner entirely.

You find your eyes tracing the curve of a bare shoulder, the soft hollow of a throat, the way fabric clings just enough to make your hands restless against your glass. You feel the question hanging in the air between you — bold, direct, daring you to answer honestly.

You already know your answer. You want your mouth on warm skin before the check arrives, your hands pulling closer what's been teasing you since the moment you sat down.