Now playing: Favorite Song - Eric Bellinger

‘Let yo hair down. Run that water. Light a candle. It’s just me and you..’

Steam gathers thick against the ceiling, softening the edges of the bathroom until everything feels hazy and private. You can still feel the imprint of his mouth on yours from the hallway, the way he backed you up against the wall before either of you even thought about turning the water on. Stack had kissed you like he had been thinking about it all day.

Now the tub is full, and he steps in first, settling back with a low exhale before reaching for you. His hands guide you carefully as you lower yourself between his legs, the heat rising around your skin in a slow, enveloping warmth. Sometime in between he’d brought in the mini speaker y’all have that’s playing smooth R&B love songs in the bathroom. Omarion, Summer Walker, kwn, Tank, etc.

You lean back against his chest instinctively. He adjusts you without speaking at first, one arm circling your waist beneath the surface while the other drifts along your arm. His fingertips trace from your wrist to your elbow, from your elbow to your shoulder, unhurried and deliberate. The pads of his fingers move like he is studying you, reacquainting himself with every inch of skin the day kept from him.

“We been needin’ this huh, mama,” he murmurs near your ear, his thumb pressing gently into the curve of your shoulder.

The warmth of the water loosens you gradually. Your head tips back against him, and he shifts slightly so you rest more comfortably, his chest firm and steady at your back.