He heard the gentle splashing of water as soon as he let himself in through the front door. And, for a split second, his loins twitched. But he couldn't act on it.
Not yet.
He unloaded his bags on the sofa in the front room. Pulled off his jacket and threw it down on top of the debris.
The faintest wisp of something floral and sweet lingered in his nostrils.
Bath oils.
The twitch came back. This time with tingles that tugged at his soul for more attention.
His resistance was gone.
With a deep breath that ended with a lick of his lips, he headed for the bottom of the stairs.
He crept up them one after the other. His chest already heaving with anticipation.
His fingers reached for the handle of the bathroom door.
Even before he'd peeked inside, the scent was stronger. The movement in the water, louder.
The door inched forward.
He tried his best to stop from spoiling it.
She was half in and half out. A towel wrapped around her hair, her hands still trying to make it stick in a knot.
Water dripped down her leg outside the bath, soaking into the mat beneath her.
He ran his eyes from the tips of her pink-painted toes, to the nooks of her knees, and the glistening skin of her thighs.
Then higher.
He couldn't resist any longer.
He didn't want to.
His cock raged against the front of his work trousers. Aching to get free. Desperate to be unleashed. To penetrate.
