Dawson
I didn’t mean to tease her. Not really. Being naked doesn’t bother me—I’ve never been shy about my body. You lose any sense of modesty when you’re showering in open stalls, where anyone who walks in gets a front‑row seat.
But hell, she makes it hard to think straight.
And it's even harder to think when she is standing there, with her back still pressed against the back of the bathroom door looking like she just short-circuited. Her lips are parted slightly, her chest rising and falling too fast as her eyes drop lower…again to the towel barely hanging on my hips.
Grace Beckett looks like temptation wrapped in panic, with a flicker of something like longing in her eyes. And I’m the i***t standing here half-naked, watching her try to remember how to breathe.
If she knew what that
