Bent Over

You're looking at a redhead bent over with an invitation that makes your pulse jump before your brain catches up.

You take in the curve of the lower back, the way it dips and then rises into something that demands your full attention — your eyes tracing slowly, deliberately, like you're memorizing every line.

You feel the heat before you've even moved closer, that specific pull low in your stomach that tells you exactly what your body wants, and you let yourself want it without apology.