Page 135 of Stalker's Toy

Still humid and thick.

I feel charged and reckless and ready.

We pause for a moment before heading in, taking a breath of fresh air before we paint the night with sex and destruction.

Life and creation.

Inside, the air is warm.

Humid.

It presses in, hard.

I take it in like breath and like chaos. I absorb it and become it, and all of it is a backdrop for Mia.

A place for her to burn. To rise.

A phoenix.

I feel the weight of unspoken words and glances as we make our way through the entrance.

Everyone is watching, looking at us as we strip until we’re nude.

The flames painted on her skin drawing attention.

Pulling in desire, other's lust and need.

The anticipation will undo me if I let it.

I know it will undo Mia, and I know she knows it.

That’s exactly why it’s thrilling.

We make our way through the neon-lit space, moving closer to the release we both need.

I stride into the room with Mia.

Leading her straight to the stage that I booked just for this reason.

She stands in the centerof the chaos.

Of the lights and heat and eyes.

Of everything.

The bare skin and the paint and the lights and the heavy air are exactly what I want them to be, and still she surprises me.

The way she twirls, the paint catching the light is breathtaking.

Everything is exposed.

She is exposed.

But she is something more than that too.

The way she stands so composed.

The way she doesn’t cover up.

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