The lyft ride back from the restaurant had involved a good deal of giggling and furtive groping and embarrassed glances to see if the driver was watching them in the rear view mirror. Stumbling into her apartment, they exchanged tipsy pleasantries with her roommate before hurrying into her bedroom and slamming the door behind them.
She fetched her bluetooth speaker and searched for a playlist while he embraced her from behind. He playfully bit her neck and she shivered and spun around to face him, laughing as their mouths met. They kissed for a long time, their hands slowly exploring each other, their antic energy subsiding.
She pulled away abruptly and regarded him. Her gaze showed no trace of her earlier bounciness; it smoldered like dry ice. He felt it as a flutter in the pit of his stomach. He swallowed audibly, knowing what would happen next.
“Strip.” Her voice was flat and authoritative, her mouth set in a forbidding line.