Be Careful What You Wish For. 2

Be Careful What You Wish For.

Still Grace's P.O.V.

Walking out of the bathroom, I glanced at Michael, he had his back turned to me, but as soon as he heard me emerge, he span around.

My eyes widened and my muscles went limp, my jaw dropped open at the sight of him. He looked delectable.

I blinked hard, swallowing and trying to speak but, I couldn't!

As my eyes trailed over the wonders of his godlike figure, it became more and more difficult to work with gravity.

He was wearing a well fitted, black tuxedo. Fitted trousers, a white shirt with a jazzy collar, it was studded with black crystals, a silk black handkerchief poking out of his pocket. A black dinner jacket outlined his figure perfectly, and underneath, a black waistcoat.

On his feet were, naturally, black loafers with white socks, his shoes were gleamingly shiny and also dotted with those black crystals.

I looked to his face, his eyes were particularly defined, thin eyeliner making his wondrous, deep cocoa eyes stand out, his cheek bones and jaw line jutting out like heaven, the lines around his mouth,which I particularly liked, stood out like crazy...making me crazy! And his hair...it was down and free, curls roaming and cascading down, touching his shoulders, it was all slicked back, apart from two seducing, snake like curls falling in front of his flawless forehead...

I was almost drooling, naughty images flickering into my imagination, one particular one, was the picture of his face over mine, whilst he made love to me...it was increasingly difficult to seize my cries of sexual frustration, but if he wasn't the literal meaning of sex on legs, then hell knows what is.