Someone bumped into Zion, and he looked down to see a small girl sprawled at his feet, knocked around by the dancing mob. Dark hair was pulled back from an ethereal face as she stared, wide-eyed, up at him. He was sure that he shared her look of astonishment, at least for a moment. Then his goddess turned a pleasing shade of red and rolled over, trying to push herself up off the floor. She got about halfway to her knees and fell a second time. Concerned, Zion bent down to help her. The smell of her hair was an enticing mix of vanilla and lavender; it made him pause, and he couldn't help a small shiver of arousal as he spoke into her ear.
"Are you all right?"
She turned toward him, her eyes laughing, and he could have kissed her lips right then, they were so close! He missed the moment, and she turned those magnificent lips toward his ear. Her warm breath sent tremors of passion rolling over his skin, leaving him momentarily stunned. Zion realized that this lovely vision had spoken to him, but he hadn't heard a word. She was kind enough to repeat what she said.
"You're standing on my hair."
It was Zion's turn to blush, as he lifted his foot and then helped her to her feet. But once she was standing there in front of him, her smile lighting up her eyes, he forgot his embarrassment. He forgot everything. He decided that maybe parties weren't such a bad thing, after all. He leaned over as she stood on tiptoe to breathe warmth into him once more, his hand possessively on her hip.
"Won't it be wonderful to share this story with our children someday?"
Zion thought it would be wonderful indeed.
The photo:
The quote:
