Warm stone after midnight, skin still holding the heat of the day. This one belongs to the hour that is shared with only one other person.

Rain on hot earth and leather worn soft against the body. Nothing about it asks permission.

Cedar and clean balsam warmed against the skin — the scent of a name that was earned before you were born.

Woodsmoke and dark honey on warm skin — the moment someone leans in and forgets what they were about to say.

Morning light on warm marble and bare shoulders — the glow that follows a night worth keeping secret.

What is left on your collar after being held. Placed at the throat, for one person to find.

Ember-dark wood and slow smoke, worn low on the skin — impossible to place, and impossible to walk away from.

Amber and dark wood on warm skin — the presence that makes a room go quiet without a word.