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The halter bra top she's wearing draws attention to her chest and practically pushes her breasts all the way up to her neck.
And while she's not exactly well-endowed, her tits are shapely and perky as fuck.
The sparkle from her bellybutton piercing snags my attention and I drop my gaze to her waist. She isn't voluptuous by any means, given she's so slim...but her tiny curves aren't anything short of alluring.
Then I notice the shorts she's wearing...if you can even call them that.
They fit snug around her little hips and showcase a pair of well-toned thighs and fuck me because I can't help from wondering what her backside looks like now.
All women are beautiful, I'll never deny that.
That said, everyone has their type...specific features and traits you find yourself automatically attracted to.
On paper...Lou-Lou has none of the traits I've found myself attracted to in the past.
She's not voluptuous or particularly curvy. She's not sporting a D-cup and she's certainly not tall...or a redhead.
Add that to the other strike against her due to her having the worst personality of any woman I've ever met—and she is in no way, shape, or form 'my type.'
She couldn't be further from it.
But right now? I'd swear in a courtroom on a stack of bibles that I've never seen a woman so breathtaking in all my 31 years on the planet.
I'm so captivated I don't even have time to deflect the fist that launches straight into my ribcage, knocking the wind out of me.
I stagger back against the ropes and Tyrone doesn't miss the opportunity. He quickly deals another punch...one to my face this time.
For a moment, I feel like I'm in one of those cartoons with the little birdies flying around my head.
“Prepare for the unexpected, coach,” he taunts before climbing out of the ring.