The Glow Between Us
Steam still clung to their skin when they entered Leon's quarters again, the morning sun slipping in through the tall windows, spilling liquid gold across the burnished marble and the velvet-covered bed.
Cassidy entered first. Her dark hair, still damp from the bath, hung in sodden curtains down her back, tendrils clinging to the curves of her hips like tangles of midnight silk. Droplets ran down her skin smooth shoulders, pursuing the curve of her chest, each drop of water shining like gold until it vanished against the dark flush of her skin. Her eyes—black, deep, and bold—still contained that smoldering fire of one who had yielded to heat and contact, and yet desired more.
Each inch of her radiated—dewy, flushed, a glow that only came after heat, hands, and a bath that never remained innocent for long.
