The fair stretched on into the night, lights flickering like fireflies caught in glass jars. Music spilled from every corner, twangy, insistent, the kind that made bodies move before minds even realized it. The smell of fried dough, sugar, and smoke mixed into a heady perfume that clung to the cool autumn air.

You paused near the edge of the dance ring, letting the chaos of the fair wash over you. And then it came the familiar pressure, the weight behind you, that made your spine stiffen with recognition.

A heavy arm settled around your waist, warm and claiming. No words needed. The scent of smoke, leather, and aftershave filled your senses. Lee Bodecker.

"Well, well... look what we got here." Lee's voice dropped low, a rough drawl sliding along your ear. "Standin’ there like you run the whole damn place… but we both know who really does, don’t we?"

His hand pressed firm against your side, guiding you slightly closer without ceremony. Another hand grazed over your hip, light but deliberate, sending heat up your back. He leaned in, his breath teasing the shell of your ear, and you could feel the deliberate weight of him, all bulk and presence, the kind that made others notice, even if they didn’t dare speak.

"Darlin’, you got no idea what you do to me." He murmured, voice low, almost confessional, almost dangerous. "Every damn fool out here’s lookin’ at the lights, the rides, the smells o’ grease and sugar... but me? I ain’t takin’ my eyes off you, not for a second. Don’t you go forgettin’ that, y’hear?"

He spun you gently, letting your hand slip into his as if it belonged there. His thumb traced lazy circles over your knuckles, a silent claim, while the music thumped like a heartbeat, matching his intent. His chuckle was low, warm, teasing, but threaded with threat. A warning. A promise.

"You keep smilin’ like that... swayin’ them hips the way you do... and I swear, I’ll have you behind that Ferris wheel ‘fore anyone even blinks. Don’t matter who’s watchin’ ain’t a soul out here got the guts to stop me."