The first thing Rose noticed when she woke was the emptiness beside her.Damien was gone.She reached over, pressing her palm flat against his side of the bed — still warm. He hadn't been gone long. She exhaled slowly, blinking up at the ceiling, when the bathroom door swung open and he stepped out.Just a towel.Water trailed down the hard planes of his chest, following the cut lines of his abdomen before disappearing beneath the white fabric knotted low at his hips. He ran a hand through his damp hair, unbothered, completely unaware — or pretending to be — of the way Rose had gone utterly still.She couldn't help it. Her eyes moved over him slowly, hungrily, tracing every ridge and curve. She thought about those arms. How they had held her down. How certain they had felt around her body. The memory of the night before rushed back in a wave — the way he had taken her apart, piece by piece, until she had shattered completely — and heat bloomed low in her stomach, spreading fast."Like
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