"No, thanks," Fiore said, quickly averting her eyes. The man stood there, completely unbothered, his manhood right in front of her. She couldn’t look at him anymore—it was beyond awkward.
“I insist,” the man replied, ignoring her discomfort as he pulled a stool up behind her. Fiore scooted away, annoyance rising in her chest.
“Did I asked for help?” she snapped, her voice edged with irritation. The audacity of this stranger invading her personal space—it was infuriating. She didn’t even know him. She just wanted to bath in peace.
She focused on the task at hand, scrubbing harder, but suddenly, she felt the man's hand on her back, rubbing soap into her skin without her consent.
“f**k!” Fiore flinched, jerking upright with a sharp cry. The sensation of his hands on her, uninvited, sent a
