For the moment

The low thrum of the machines around her had become background noise—constant, dull, almost hypnotic. Emily sat with her chin resting on her knees, eyes half-lidded, skin flushed from the heat of the wall unit and the dryer still spinning behind her.

Then—click.

A soft, definitive sound, just barely audible under the roar.

The shower.

She hadn’t even realized it was running—masked completely by the compressors and wash bays outside—but now, the sudden silence left a vacuum. Her head lifted.

A door on the far side of the breakroom—a steel one she'd assumed led to a utility closet—creaked open.

He stepped out.

A man—tall, black, soaking wet—emerged with a towel slung around his neck, not his waist. Water slicked every inch of his body, droplets rolling down over a chest carved from solid muscle, over thick, defined arms, down a stomach tight with corded strength. Broad shoulders nearly filled the doorway.

He paused when he saw her.

And her breath caught in her throat.

He was... huge. Not just in build, though his physique alone made her eyes travel in slow disbelief—but below that, hanging thick and unmistakable between powerful thighs, was a cock that made her stomach flip.

She couldn’t look away.

Their eyes locked across the room—his gaze calm, unreadable, dark as polished stone. Hers wide, startled, flooded with heat.

A drop of water fell from his jaw to his collarbone. Another tracked down the slope of one pectoral. She followed each one without thinking. Every inch of him glistened.

The towel she wore suddenly felt much too small.