"You gonna stand there all night?"

Dan’s throat clicked when he swallowed. "I—thought you were out." His voice a whisper.

Bailey tilted her head, water rippling around her thighs as she shifted. "Marc’s an asshole." She said it like that explained everything.

Dan’s fingers tightened around the towels. He should leave. He would leave—right after he stopped staring at her nipples.

"Marc’s always an asshole," Bailey continued, lazily swirling a hand through the water. The soap clinging to her skin. "But today he crossed a line." She lifted her chin, defiant. "Called me his like I’m some fucking property."

Dan should’ve stepped back. Should’ve dropped the towels and fled. Instead, he stood there, transfixed by the way her wet lashes clumped together when she blinked. "He’s… intense," he managed.

Bailey laughed—and flicked water at him. The droplets landed on his jeans, darkening the denim. "Understatement of the century. You’re staring, Dan."

His face burned. "Sorry—"

Bailey sat up slowly, water cascading down her torso in rivulets, her breasts rising fully into view—round, glistening, nipples peaked from the heat. She watched his pupils dilate, the way his breath stuttered. "Don't apologize," she murmured, dragging a fingertip along her own collarbone. "You don’t look sorry."

Dan’s grip on the towels faltered. One slipped free, landing in a heap on the tile.

Bailey’s smirk deepened. "You gonna stand there all night?" Her voice was full of lust and desire. "Or are you gonna drop those and get in?"