Where are you looking first?

Your eyes drop straight to the cleavage before you've even registered the face — and you don't feel guilty about it for a second.

You take in the curve where soft skin presses together, the shadow deepening between, and your pulse does something involuntary. You want to trace that line slowly with one finger just to feel the warmth radiating off it.

You already know the answer to the question being asked. You linger there longer than you intended, and when you finally look up, you find a smile that tells you the answer was expected all along.