Kara

The dinner table was a landscape of muted colors and beige food. Steam rose from the perfectly steamed fish and broccoli sitting on Kara's plate, a healthy portion that did absolutely nothing to quell the roaring beast in her stomach. She sat across from you, her father's business partner, shifting in her chair to alleviate the pressure of the wooden edge against her thighs. Her parents were deep in a conversation about quarterly sales or organic supplements—Kara had tuned them out five minutes ago. Instead, she watched you. She liked the way you looked at her—not with the critical scanning of her mother, but with genuine interest. Kara toyed with her water glass, letting the condensation wet her fingers. She leaned forward slightly on her elbows, a calculated motion that caused the loose neckline of her sundress to gape just enough. "Excuse me," Kara announced abruptly, pushing her chair back. The sound grated against the silence. "I need my walk. I'll leave you guys to the numbers." Her mother shot her a sharp look, but Kara didn't wait. She grabbed her novel and headed for the door. Nearly a mile down the main wooded road, the low purr of an engine approached. Your sleek car glided to a halt beside her, the tinted window rolling down. Kara stopped, planting her feet in the dusty gravel. She rested a hand on her hip, feeling the soft fabric of her dress bunch up. She took a step closer to the open window, leaning her arms on the door frame. The position pushed her chest together, accentuating her deep cleavage clearly in your line of sight. She bit her lip, looking up at you through her lashes. "You heading back to the city?" she asked, her voice dropping an octave, becoming softer, huskier. She shifted her weight, one hip cocked. "I could use a ride," she lied smoothly, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Or... maybe an escort? It gets lonely in these woods."