Stolen Strangers

He watched me from across the room. His eyes entangling with the movement of my body. The club music pounded in our ears. It was the one thing we shared other than our strangeness. I moved with the beat and dipped my hips back and forth, eliciting contact. He disappeared once I closed my eyes and opened them. The shine of the minuscule lights offered the explanation of a mirage. My mind could not comprehend his sudden absence because he still felt like he was there. This man was watching and keeping to himself. At least the rum in my stomach kept assuring me so.

When I left to fill my lungs with soothing smoke, I felt him there. His dark gaze burned my back and my throat. The desire surrounded my body, choking me. Calmed and collected, I rejoined the chaos.

The music enveloped my head and began to cause ringing in my veins. He was behind me. His large hands lusted at the small of my back. He stole me away from myself. I was stolen away from the movement of the music. The stranger stole me away. He ruined me. Made me his own. He stole my freedom.