36
Aribel
My memory didn’t hold a candle to the magnificent that was Grant McDermott. It was a hazy outline, a foggy sketch to the masterpiece.
From my spot in the front row, he towered over me clad in dark tight fit jeans and V-cut red T-shirt that made me want to drool. He always wore dark colors that seeing him in a delicious red made him absolutely edible. He hair was a little longer and wildly finger combed. All I could think about was running my fingers through it as I kissed him breathless. His dark eyes kept shifting back to me on stage, and I warmed everywhere. It was in those brief moments where I could imagine us completely alone.
Just me and Grant.
And his eyes were like molten lava burning away my clothes and seeing through to my heated body. I’d never felt such desire fo
