Strobe

Wordlessly she rose from the bed and offered her hand, and I grabbed it as the song’s background deepened, then slid off the bed and onto the carpeted floor. Then she pulled me through the next room and into the bathroom, where she closed the door, killed the lights, and turned on the shower.

I'd caught a glimpse; it was plenty big enough for the both of us, and probably could've fit three more comfortably if we'd been so inclined. But the music was enough to wipe thought from my mind as it escalated, and her soft touch led me forward into the water.

Warmth was everywhere; I groaned at the relief of it. The apartment had been cold, and I hadn't realized that until the cascade poured over me and soaked every inch of skin through entirely, and then she was there, soaked and hot and everywhere in the darkness that was just as complete as the club. The beat went up and the notes cycled like a mirrorball switching back and forth. I ran my hands over her, and I knew that she didn't want gentle. Not this time.

I spun her around and put her toward the wall, feeling my way down. I'd been ready from the moment I stepped out of the bed, and with a motion that made my knees weak I grabbed her hips, bit my lip and slammed forward with all the force I had.