Under the spell of the tropics/ about my vacations in Colombia

The warm night breeze caressed my skin, laden with the sweet aroma of hibiscus and coconut. Everything in that place seemed designed to ignite the senses: the dim lights of the street lamps, the slow salsa music floating in the air, and that tickling atmosphere that promised something special was about to happen.I was wearing my favorite red dress, the one that fits my curves like a second skin. I knew exactly what I was doing when I chose it. The deep neckline on the back left my skin exposed, and the fabric brushed against my thighs with every step, playing with the imagination of whoever dared to look. And, believe me, everyone was looking.When I entered the bar, I felt the weight of the stares. I didn\\\'t care. On the contrary, I enjoyed them. I moved slowly, certain that my walk could be sexy as any song. That\\\'s when I saw it.He was leaning against the bar, a glass in his hand and a look that almost made me smile. His dark eyes followed me with such intensity that I could almost feel them roaming every inch of my body.I confidently approached, the click of my heels echoing like a beat. He didn\\\'t look away for a second.\\\"Do you like what you see?\\\" I asked, allowing myself a touch of cheekiness.He laughed, though his eyes remained fixed on mine. \\\"It would be impossible not to. You move like the world is yours.\\\"I held his gaze as I took a mojito the bartender had placed in front of me. \\\"Maybe it is tonight,\\\" I said, leaning in just enough for my perfume to envelop him. His breathing quickened barely perceptibly, but I noticed.The conversation flowed like a river, each word filled with subtle flirtations and glances that said more than a thousand sentences. I loved the way he reacted to my movements, my laughter, even the strategic pauses I left when I spoke. But the best came when a slow song came on, the kind of music that invites you to move close together, skin against skin.I reached out my hand to him. I didn\\\'t say anything. I didn\\\'t have to. He took my hand without hesitation and followed me to the dance floor.Our bodies met, his hands resting on my waist as my hips set the rhythm with a slow, deliberate movement. We were so close I could feel his breath on my neck, hot and tempting. Every step was a tease, every turn a wordless promise.When the music faded, our faces were just a breath away. I smiled slowly, letting my gaze drift down to his lips before returning to his eyes.And then I walked away, leaving the dance floor and the scent of my perfume in the air. I didn\\\'t look back, but I could feel his eyes following me, and I smiled to myself. Some nights, the world really is mine.

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