Water Over My Skin

Zlata Shine slides her clothes down, slow, and the lace follows. She moves barefoot across the room, nothing left between her skin and the air. The shower sits in the corner, a plain fixture against the wall. She turns the handle and water hits her shoulders, runs over the curve of her breasts, down her stomach. It catches the light, tracing her shape. Raul looks up from his book. His eyes stick to her now. He shifts, palm pressing against the front of his pants, rubbing himself through the fabric while he watches. She lets the water pour over her, tilting her head, showing him everything. Then she steps out, water still dripping, and walks straight toward him, hips rolling, mouth curved in the smallest smile.