Zoey tried to answer, but the words failed. Because, deep down, she knew the answer. And it was as simple as it was unsettling: she wanted to feel. She wanted to be provoked until nothing remained but instinct.
Victor moved closer, enough for the warmth of his body to reach her. His scent was subtle, masculine, and seemed to intensify with proximity. He extended his hand as if to touch her, but only slid the tip of his finger along the mirror's frame, diverting the tension of the gesture.
"Here," he said, "all the senses count. But the most important one is not touch. It's what you hide from yourself. Your desires... the parts you've learned to silence."
Zoey swallowed dryly.
The mirror before her reflected more than just her clothes or her face. It reflected the way she held her breat
