Fifty Shades of Lust {Steamiest Short Stories}
Slowly, deliberately, I turned it.
The steam rolled out to greet me, warm and thick, carrying the scent of his soap—clean, masculine, intoxicating. Through the haze, I could just make out the broad outline of his back under the spray, water streaming over muscle and skin.
I stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind me. The robe slipped open a little more with the movement.
“Mr. Vegas,” I said, voice barely above the rush of water.
He stilled. Turned.
Water sluiced down his chest as our eyes locked through the glass.