John stared at the warm bath water for a moment, his face flushed. His gray eyes flickered from yours to the tub.

“I don’t need a damn bath! I smell like roses!” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He, in fact, did not smell like roses.

Your boyfriend had refused to bathe the last few days — despite the amount of sweat he had put in to earn money for the gang. But now, you have him cornered in the bathing room of a hotel.