Falling For The Father
He was bare-chested, with only a towel slung low on his hips, clinging precariously.
Daisy froze mid-text, thumb hovering over the send button, her eyes immediately drawn to him. His chest was broad, muscled, dusted lightly with dark, damp hair. Water dripped down his collarbone, trailing slowly over his sculpted torso, catching the dim lighting in all the worst and, undeniably, best ways. Her mouth went suddenly dry, a strange tightness in her throat.
She had seen this man naked before. Had sex with him, even. But somehow, this hits differently. She had never really taken her time to admire his amazing body before.
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