When you meet the one, will your breathing falter? Will you body self combust?
Davina's about to find out!
A Bar In Paris:
I watched the man stalk to the bar and order in perfect English-accented French. “Une bière, s’il vous plait.”
My toes curled at his voice and the waiter hurried to do his bidding. Mr. Sexy’s voice was cultured and deep. I like voices, particularly men’s voices. They can make me go gooey at the knees, and this one warmed my insides to the consistency of thick, warm honey. And I knew he was the one I wanted to be with all night long.
The server handed over a bottle of beer and a glass, but Mr. Sexy looked at the bottle, grimaced, and then took a long pull.
The other men at the bar started talking in low voices, putting aside newspapers. They paid their money and left.