My door groaned open, and I pushed in hurriedly taking long strides to the closet. I didn't even notice the person sitting on the couch in the corner of the room.
That's how fucking insignificant she was.
"Alaric," June called and stood up, taking a few steps toward me.
I barely spared her a glance. "You should be trying to freshen up by now, June."
She chuckled slightly, "That's why I'm here…For us to shower together."
It was at that point I noticed what she was wearing, and, fuck….
A towel.
A fucking towel.
Tied just above her breasts but not covering her thighs.
Goddess. Did this girl take lessons on how to crawl under my skin and step on every strand of my nerves? Because if so, she was at the top of her fucking class.
I won't deny it–June–had a body most men would kill to have under them.
Long, smooth legs. Perky, full breasts. An ass made to be grabbed.
But here's the thing.
She didn't move me.
Not one fucking bit.
