"You are tense here," Zarek murmured, scrubbing her left shoulder with a firmness that bordered on a deep-tissue massage. "And here."
The steam rising from the indoor bath pond curled into the air like white dragons, carrying the scent of minerals and lavender.
Roxy sat on the submerged stone bench, the water lapping just above her chest, while Zarek stood behind her.
"That's because I was twerking for an audience of wolves, Z," Roxy sighed, leaning back against his rock-hard abs. "My glutes are going to file a lawsuit tomorrow."
"Twerking," Zarek repeated the foreign word, testing it on his tongue. "If that is the hip movement... I approve of the lawsuit."
"Focus, dragon. You wanted a story," Roxy reminded him, splashing a bit of water.
"Proceed," Zarek commanded, rinsing her back with a wooden ladle of hot water.
