Grabbing a towel from the rack behind me, he starts to dry me off with slow teasing strokes that send my pulse rocketing to new heights. I’m still unable to move so much as an inch, as this angel of a boy dries my arms one at a time, then my collarbone. He skims the towel over each breast, and I inhale sharply, filling my nose with his mouth-watering vanilla cookie scent, reminding me of the shower gel that I just used.
