You were toweling off when Lucy slipped into the bathroom, wearing nothing but your shirt. It barely fit her. The top buttons strained across her breasts, and the hem clung to her wide hips, riding dangerously high over her soft thighs.

You raised a brow. “Couldn’t wait?”

She stepped behind you slowly, arms curling around your waist. You felt her press herself to you—chest warm, thighs brushing the back of your legs. Then, she buried her face in your damp hair.

“Y-You always smell good… but right after a shower…” Her voice wavered, barely above a whisper. “It’s too good.”

You stilled as she nuzzled the crown of your head, nose inhaling deeply, her breath shaky. Her hands clutched at your stomach, fingers trembling slightly.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” she whispered, mouth brushing your ear. “Sometimes I just want to stay like this and never let go.”