The simple gesture made her heart stutter violently.
The very man she had been avoiding with everything in her was now standing in her apartment right there at the entrance of her bathroom while she sat exposed in the bathtub.
He stepped inside with the smooth, lethal grace of a predator closing in on its prey.
Her breath hitched when he sat down on the edge of the tub.
She was certain something horrible was about to happen.
But instead
"Hands on the bathtub," he ordered.
Not a request.
A command.
She stared at him, eyes wide and trembling.
"P-please… I—l-leave m-"
"I said hands on the fucking bathtub!"
His growl thundered through the room, so loud she was sure the neighbors heard it.
Her lips quivered as tears welled up.
He hadn't touched her yet.
And that somehow made it worse.
Slowly, hesitantly, she removed her arms from her chest and placed them on the rim of the tub.
Anxiety spiked instantly and her hands flew back up to cover herself.
