Everything

She decided to surprise Marcus and take EVERYTHING OFF… she pulls the socks off one at a time before she peels the pink tube top over her head and drops it onto the pile of socks. She sits on the edge of the bed, bare, the softbox light warm against her skin. She waits, counting the seconds in her head. One minute. Ninety seconds. Two minutes pass. The room stays silent.

She stands, her bare feet pressing into the floorboards as she pads to the door. She cracks it open, peeking into the hallway. Empty. The soft hum of the television drifts from the living room, low and muffled.

She steps out, following the sound. The hallway opens into the living room, and she stops at the threshold. Marcus is standing by the couch, stripped down to just his boxers — plain gray cotton, clinging to the outline of him. He's holding his phone, screen lit, but he looks up the moment she enters. His eyes trail down her body slowly, unhurriedly, taking in the bare skin, the curve of her hips, the absence of everything she'd worn.

She teasingly crosses her arms but she doesn't really try to cover herself. She just stands there in the doorway, her hair falling loose around her shoulders, her chest rising with the weight of her own breath.

"You said two minutes," she says, her voice quiet but steady. "I got tired of waiting."

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