The next day.
When she woke, Keane Lowell was already gone, but his scent lingered at the tip of her nose.
Just as she sat up from the bed, she saw the man come out of the bathroom, fully dressed, exuding an aura of noble restraint.
"What time is it?"
"Seven, plenty of time."
She lazed about for a bit, stretching her body.
The shirt he casually grabbed last night was loosely draped over her body; it was black, making her skin look even more delicate and fair.
With the neckline open, her legs crossed outside, and her little feet exposed, even her messy hair couldn't hide the pure and enticing aura she exuded.
Even if she did nothing, just sitting there quietly, she could easily stir his desires.
He sat on the bed, supporting himself with one hand behind her, turning her head to kiss her.
With one move, she naturally leaned on his shoulder in response.
Claire Prescott then turned around, straddled him, and lazily said, "Carry me to the bathroom."
