Angelo had been sitting alone at his table, when he caught his eye. The music was thrumming, the movers were shaking, and the air was alive with a buzz of the electric feeling that comes from a good time.
The wolves wouldn’t be the only ones to enjoy the moonshine that night.
He could feel it, the nagging heat of hungry eyes. He was used to it. Always watched for some reason or another. He made no move to acknowledge his admirer, simply took a sip of his drink. Especially on nights like this, when he was dressed like sin. Men were quick to mistake him, short haired wavy hair, slim tiny thing; pretty as a penny she was. Let them, it made no difference to him.
He put it out of his mind. For once, he wasn’t looking for a dance.