STRAINS OF CLASSICAL music wafted up from the ballroom downstairs, along with the boisterous glee of a good party. Char smoothed imaginary wrinkles from the blood-red satin gown she wore.
“You are perfect. Stop fussing.”
She turned and lifted her face to receive a quick kiss from Azazel. He looked amazing. Shirtless except for the black dress sash that crossed his chest, dress pants fit him to a tee, showing off that fine ass. She was going to have trouble keeping her hands off it for the remainder of the evening. His hands rested lightly on her shoulders. Something shiny dangled from his wrist.
“What’s that, babe?”
“Just some trinket to complete your perfection.” He slipped the chain off his wrist and placed it around her neck. Nestled in her cleavage was the biggest most flawless bla
