Up the Stairs
He followed me up the stairs after I excused myself from the bar. The communication between us was less unspoken signal and more trigger and effect, all of our touch-and-go glances building in anticipation of this opportunity. He must have waited all but thirty seconds before falling on my trail, weaving through the happy hour crowd as I had just done, as if guided by my scent. My skin tingled at the nape of my neck, electrified by the feel of his eyes in pursuit. As I reached the top few steps I exaggerated the sway of my hips, making sure to reward him with a good view. His body came up hard and warm against my back as I reached the bathroom door, all but shoving me inside the unisex room. “Excuse me,” I said, swirling to face him. “What makes you think you were invited to come in here with me?” “Oh.” A look of panic flashed across his face and he put up his hands. “Shit. I thought…my mistake.” He turned to leave but I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled his body flush ...
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