Don stopped in front of Samantha's door.
He knocked once.
Light. Knuckles brushing wood.
A second later, footsteps approached from inside—soft against the floor.
The door slid open.
Samantha stood there wrapped in a white bath towel secured just above her chest, another towel twisted around her damp hair.
A few strands had escaped, curling along her neck. Droplets of water still clung to her shoulders and collarbone, trailing slowly down her skin. The towel dipped just enough to reveal the upper swell of her cleavage.
She smiled the moment she saw him.
"Donnie…" she said softly. "You're back."
"Yep," he replied. "And I couldn't wait to see you."
He stepped closer without hesitation, lifting one hand to cradle the side of her face. His thumb brushed lightly against her cheek before he leaned in.
Their lips met.
She stiffened at first—more from surprise than reluctance—but then rose onto her toes, pressing into the kiss. One hand caught lightly at his shirt.
