Pure Desire Vol. 7

You notice it right away—tiny trail of clothes leading from the door like a sexy game of bread crumbs. Evelyn knows Michael won't miss that. He drops everything and follows, grin spreading wider with every shirt and bra he finds. By the time he reaches the bathroom the steam's already thick, and she's sinking lower into the frothy water, chin tilted up like she's not blushing. He starts stripping in the doorway, sending socks flying and balancing on one foot. Once he's free, he slides behind her, hands slipping straight under the surface so there's no wasting time on polite. Their legs tangle beneath the bubbles, skin sticking and sliding, each move sending warm water lapping over the edge. Evelyn reaches back to pull him deeper, guiding, smirking over her shoulder when he groans. The tub rocks, overflows a little, and for a second neither cares about the mess—just the heat they started before they stepped inside.