Doing What We Do Best

tango - doing what we do best Luckily, he was there when I arrived at the party. I craned my neck upwards to meet his gaze and smiled with my eyes.

Taking the first glass of wine offered to me, I made my way to his corner like a tiger stalking its prey.

Control wouldn’t be mine for long, and dammit, I was going to have fun with it while I still had the chance.

My hips swayed seductively as I walked, the black silk of my dress sliding ever-so-slightly upward.

My pace was slow, deliberate. Focused.

After just a few seconds, I could see the fire building in his piercing green eyes. They seemed to smolder at me, tempting me to come closer, begging the question, Are you up to the challenge?

Not a moment too soon, the tables turned and I became the hunted.

He placed his now-empty wine glass on a server’s tray and briefly ran his hands through his sandy blonde hair.

I considered walking backwards as he approached, but wasn’t confident that my stilettos would support me in that endeavor.