Atlas stood in front of the bathroom mirror, a towel wrapped around his waist. He was still damp from the shower, his skin glistening with moisture. His hazel eyes were dark and brooding as he ran a hand through his wet hair, slicking it back.

His muscles flexed as he moved, the veins in his arms and shoulders prominent under his skin. He looked like a god of war, dangerous and imposing.

His hazel eyes flicked up to lock with hers in the mirror, his expression unreadable.

“You’re staring, baby.” He murmured, his voice low and rough.