Steam rises from the water, and the air makes my skin on my arms form into tiny bumps as the hairs stand on end. Tendrils of hair dip into the water, and I slide down to submerge my breasts, enjoying the wet heat of the water.
The scent of jasmine drifts up, tiny oily droplets clinging to the clouds of steam. The fog is enveloping, and I half close my eyes, feeling the air with my skin-above-water.
I hear the front door open, and his footsteps as he moves in the hallway, closing the door. He puts down his keys, a jangle of metal hitting wood. My breath quickens as I anticipate his entry into the room. The simple thrill of seeing his strong figure as he comes through the door fills my heart, and he is here, before me, absorbing my nudity, drinking in the sight of my flesh in the pool of water. We share lusty looks as I gesture for a towel. He ignores the request, walks over and lifts me out, pulling me to him, his mouth seeking mine with determination.
Soul Journal 
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