She barely said a word during dinner. Just smiled politely and nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear like she didn’t want to be noticed. He thought she was cute, in a quiet kind of way. Reserved. Modest.
So he didn’t expect much after they made it back to his place. Maybe a glass of wine. Maybe a slow goodbye.
But the second the door closed, something changed.
She turned to him with a look that wasn’t shy at all. It was hungry.
“You talk too much,” she said softly. And then, without hesitation, she dropped to her knees, unbuckled his belt, and slid his pants down like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He stood frozen—part stunned, part thrilled—as her hands explored him like she’d done this a hundred times in her mind already.
“You thought I was shy,” she murmured, looking up at him. “That’s cute.”
What do you even say after that?