Raven stood alone on the skyscraper patio, the city below a blur of lights, oblivious to the redhead owning the night above. Her fiery red hair spilled over her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face and full, glossy lips. The hot pink hula skirt hugged her curvy hips, its fronds brushing her smooth, toned thighs, swaying with every move. Her killer figure—big chest in a wet, clinging top, tiny waist, and round hips—looked hot as hell, moving like she knew it.
The air was heavy, a storm rolling in, dark clouds flashing with far-off lightning. The first raindrops hit her skin, sliding down her neck, pooling at her collarbone, and trickling over her chest. Raven tilted her head back, lips parted to catch the rain, her body arched just enough to feel the storm’s cool touch. The hula skirt, soaked now, stuck to her curves, showing off her tight stomach and the sweet curve of her lower back.
A gust of wind flipped the skirt’s fronds, flashing her strong thighs for a second. Raven laughed, a low, sexy sound that mixed with the thunder. Her fingers grazed the skirt’s edge, not too far, just enough to tease the fabric, letting it dance with the wind. The rain came down harder, plastering the pink skirt to her body, outlining every inch—her full chest, her hips, her round ass. The drops clung to her skin, making her shine under the stormy sky.
Lightning lit her up, her silhouette sharp against the glass railing, lips wet and eyes bold. Raven moved slow and easy, hips swaying as she spun, arms out to catch the rain. The hula skirt swished, bright against her pale, wet skin. Up there, alone above the city, she was in her element, her body feeling the storm’s wild vibe—a hot, teasing dance with the rain and thunder.
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