I inhale a shaky breath as I look down onto his mass of wavy blond hair skimming his shoulders. He begins lifting his head slowly, scanning my torso, lingering on my breasts before peering up at me.
The dancing lights give me intermittent flashes at his deep green eyes bracketed by creases as he smiles, rustling up a funny feeling inside me. I canvas his tan face, noting a scar on his left temple, freckles dotting his nose, and a cleft indenting his chin. Lips, lush and pink curve even higher, and I mimic the move. Our eyes remain locked as we’re both frozen in this moment.
That is until the MC barks through the microphone, shattering the bubble and causing me to jump.
“Come on, Xander, no playing favorites.” He chuckles. “Mark her with a number and let’s get this show on the road.”
Xander never breaks eye contact as he gently skims his hand up my left leg, resting it on the back of my thigh. The warmth of his touch does more than cause a flutter inside; it heats me up, producing a burn that centers at my sex. My breaths become quick and shallow as I struggle to remain composed. I know my nipples tighten and threaten to slice through the thin material of my shirt. But his gaze never strays as he then lifts the marker, pressing it against my flesh and marking my skin.
“Lucky number seven.”