Phei stepped out of the bathroom, steam still curling lazily from his shoulders like whispered secrets, wearing nothing but those loose black night pants slung dangerously low on his hips.
The waistband hung just beneath the sharp V of his hips, revealing the shadowed trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath the fabric. Shirtless, his skin glowed warm and flushed from the shower—broad chest rising and falling in slow, even rhythm, every carved line of muscle catching the low golden lamplight.
Water droplets clung stubbornly to the hollow of his throat before tracing slow, sensual paths down the center divide of his pecs, vanishing into that tempting line below his navel.
Maya had pulled the covers up to her chin when he left the room, but now she sat frozen against the headboard—silver hair spilling everywhere like molten moonlight, eyes wide and shining with quiet, reverent awe.
