She’s standing there in red, exactly how I first met her, only tonight, she looks like she walked out of a glossy magazine for only men. Everything is on display: her full breasts, the thick, sinful curve of her thighs, and that ass. That dress clings to her like sin. It shouldn’t be legal.
I shrug Katya off me. And stare.
If she were any other woman, I’d look, appreciate, and move on. But I can’t look away from Claire. She arrests my breath. Freezes my thoughts. Wrecks my pulse.
“What a look,” Katya mutters beside me. “Your little wifey came to strut her stuff.”
I don’t hear her.
“And be a target for these washed-up old men,” she adds, laughing behind her hand.
That part I hear.
My eyes scan the room sharply, and yeah, I’m not the only man watching Claire. They’re already undressin
