Massage
Just then, the sound of the bathroom door opening broke him from his reverie. She stepped out, enveloped in a fluffy white towel, her hair damp and cascading down her shoulders. The sight took his breath away. She looked breathtaking, even with water droplets clinging to her eyelashes and a light flush gracing her cheeks.
"Wow," he breathed, unable to voice his thoughts any further.
She met his gaze, somehow a playful smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
"Like what you see, chef?" she teased, a hint of self-consciousness in her voice.
"More than you know," he confessed, his voice a husky murmur.
The air crackled with unspoken tension, a delicious awareness hanging between them. She walked towards the counter, her towel brushing against his arm, sending shivers down his spine.
"So," she began, breaking the charged silence, "chef showing off his culinary skills, or is it time for the sous-chef to lend a hand?"
He grinned.