She had the look.
The look that told everyone to get the hell out of her way she was coming through.
He loved the look.
The look that made his blood boil just looking at her.
The look had his lower regions stirring.
Oh yes here she came, all hot and bothered.
He loved it when she came near him when she had the look.
The look had her motioning him towards the car.
A nice quickie in the backseat of his car.
As much as he loved the look, he hated why she had the look, shot down again.
He knew he could change the look with a flick of the wrist and some well thought out movements and she was panting his name as she dug her fingers into his skin.
Until she realized that he would never cause the look, he would be waiting biding his time.
But until then, he loved when she got the look.
A/N: Been into the early 90's music for some strange reason this week, which of course inspired this.
She's Got The Look
By Roxette
Walking like a man, hitting like a hammer, she's a juvenile scam.
Never was a quitter, tasty like a raindrop,
she's got the look.
Heavenly bound cause heaven's got a number when she's spinning me around,
kissing is a colour. Her loving is a wild dog,
she's got the look.
She's got the look.
She's got the look.
What in the world can make a brown-eyed girl turn blue.
When everything I'll ever do I'll do for you
and I go: la la la la la she's got the look.
Fire in the ice naked to the t-bone is a lover's disguise.
Banging on the head drum, shaking like a mad bull,
she's got the look.
Swaying to the band, moving like a hammer she's a miracle man.
Loving is the ocean, kissing is the wet sand,
she's got the look.
And she goes: na na na na na na na na.