Daddies Taste Better
Steam started rising almost immediately.
Thea hovered in the doorway, watching me with that half-shy, half-curious look that drove me insane.
I glanced over my shoulder, unbuttoning my shirt cuffs. “You planning to bathe fully dressed, sweetheart? Because I can work with that, but I’d rather not.”
She laughed again—lighter this time—and pulled the sweater over her head. Underneath was a simple white bra, nothing fancy, but on her it looked like it had been designed by someone with sinful intent. I let my gaze linger, appreciative, and fucking unhurried.