Pleasure pushes it away.
Fuck, that's intense.
I'm not sure I can take more.
I rock my hips against his.
And I groan. "Fuck, Joel. Joel. Joel…"
4
Bella
The next morning…
My head pounds.
No. It screams.
It screams go back to bed.
My bladder offers a counter. Time to pee. Now.
My eyes blink open then immediately close.
It's too bright in here.
Even in December, the desert sun is luminous enough to make the room this blinding shade of white.
I barely manage to push myself up. My hand plants behind me for stability. There. It gets the soft cotton of the sheets.
Again, I try to pry my eyelids apart.
It's still too bright.
I stumble to the bathroom. Thankfully, I know my way around the room. Joel's room.
We certainly experienced every inch of this room.
I manage to open my eyes for long enough to find the toilet.
Ah.
Sweet bladder relief.
My head is aching, my mouth is dry, my stomach is doing somersaults. But my bladder is empty.
I wipe, flush, and stumble to the sink. There. The water turns on. Only it's cold. I reach for the other faucet and turn it until the temperature is just right.
The soap is somewhere. There. I pump it into my palm then rub my hands together.
Only…
No.
It's familiar, but I thought… that was a dream.
Wasn't it?