Dancing With A Stranger

“Cameron,”

“Scarr, you look so fucking hot,” he said in a deep raspy voice.

“You said it was an official event…”

He looked around, “This is official.”

“We are wearing evening dresses; this is an event hall!” she exclaimed.

He took one long look at her, his eyes lingering on her cleavage, “Yes, I can see you’re wearing an evening dress and you look bloody fucking hot in it.”

She gritted her teeth, “That’s not the point.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked with a smirk, “On a serious note, this is as official as an event can get. It is an annual charity gala where pretentious rich snobs can come together to contribute to one cause or another. There’s no express rule, but it is quite important to show up,” he explained.

“There are a lot of people here,” she glanced around, a look of panic in her eyes. She bit down on her lower lip nervously, “This is a gala, there’s going to be dining, dancing…” Her eyes widened in alarm, “Every