As if the Trifecta weekly writing challenge weren’t badass enough, those diabolical editors, both silent and un, are hosting a second weekly challenge, Trifextra. The rules change each weekend so be sure to check in often so you’ve got the knowledge and the goods to bring it. Oh, it’s on.
***Reminder to all y’all who have not yet voted, Trifecta is up for a Best New Weblog Bloggie. If you have an email you can vote. Do it because you love me, because you love Lisa, because you love writing or reading or things that come in threes. Just do it.***
This week’s challenge: write a love scene
The bass was bumping, filling her chest cavity with heavy sound. Half melted makeup and two strains of sweat mixed, leaving a sweetly metallic impression on the edges of her teeth. She felt his weight shift against her almost as an afterthought, a hollow image of touch. She focused on the slightly open vee of his shirt, which carelessly exposed his intentions.
His breath was stilted, he wouldn’t show his true hand if it could be helped. He ran through the stats again and filed away the big guns for later. If there was a later. He took a timid glance, she was like the moon – cool, smooth, hallowed. Her eyes pinned him, unseeing. He was suddenly afraid he’d float away without her.
There was something to be said for awkward ministrations, especially when reciprocated. She recognized the blood driving through her for what it was, for what she had thought she didn’t possess. He recognized it too, and it set him free. Her hand curled around his finger and their eyes met, unvarnished.