A ray of shaded sunshine glints off one of the silver bands ornamenting your wrists as you wrap your manicured fingers around the handle of your russet brown purse. Your soft blonde hair traces the edge of your collarbone as you twist your waist and tuck the bag neatly between the car door and your body.
The focused intentionality of each of your movements causes my heart to beat a little faster.
My eyes wander up your forearm as you grasp the shifter and put the car into drive. Your bicep tenses with the effort.
My heart beats faster still.
I lose track of what we're talking about each time your eyes meet mine on the drive to the put in.
They're like honey.
Darker, but sweeter too.
Sticky.
Hard to pull yourself out off once you get caught up in them.
I can't help but notice the tiny tag of your swimsuit top folded neatly against your breast as I steal another glance at your waist and trace the curve of your torso along your ribs.
I wonder if you can feel it.
I think about what it would feel like to trace that same curve with my hand before gently pulling the string of your bikini and tucking the tiny tag away for you.
I wonder how that would make you feel.
If it would make your heart beat faster than mine.