She leaned forward under the pretense of adjusting her bag, and in the same motion, her dress slipped just enough to reveal a bare shoulder. The strap came down slowly, deliberately, leaving a hint of skin that caught the light. It wasn’t accidental; the way she lingered for a moment, letting her shoulder remain exposed, was precise and deliberate. Every second was a message, subtle but unmistakable.
He could feel the heat rise in him, noticing the curve of her collarbone, the gentle slope of her shoulder. It was a gesture that seemed casual, yet charged with intent. She didn’t hurry to correct it, didn’t reach to fix the strap. Instead, she allowed the slight vulnerability to exist between them, knowing exactly how much it would unsettle him. The hesitation of her hand, the patience in her movements, made every glance toward her more intense.
When she finally let the strap rest against her arm, the teasing lingered. She didn’t acknowledge his reaction, didn’t look to see if he was watching—but the air between them had shifted. The bare skin, the deliberate exposure, and the slow movement spoke volumes more than words ever could. In that silent exchange, she set the rules: he noticed, she knew he noticed, and in that mutual understanding, desire was already ignited.