It was his own damn fault he was so desperate for a female’s attention or touch. He was the one tied in knots over a stripper—a beautiful woman with supple curves, all the right moves, and bluer-than-blue eyes so deep they revealed she was actually much more than who she appeared to be onstage.
A woman who was completely inaccessible to him and untouchable to everyone. Yet he was so hung up on her, he was about to head up to his hotel room by his lonesome without any intention of trying to find another woman or even take care of himself.
Carson shook his head, annoyed at himself and confused by his current disinterest in pursuing anything female. He knew it bore some type of significance. A meaning, perhaps, that he shouldn’t ignore.
©Rachel Blaufeld, Electrified, 2014