Storm's eyes were narrowed as he tried to comprehend why I was in his room at night, standing over his bed. He looked around perplexed, and it was only in the moonlight that I could see the path his eyes took to the door and back to me.
I gasped as I saw water trickle from his wet hair down the exposed skin on his chest, rolling slowly over it like film until the teeny, steady droplets vanished into the towel that was slung low over his hips. A part of me wanted to reach out and touch his strong muscles and his wide, prominent chest, which was twice the size of mine. I just tightened my hold on the candle instead.
Storm clung to his towel even more before asking the query I had been anticipating from the time he emerged from his restroom and discovered me here.
I just stood there and stared at him with my mouth open, then I looked at the door, then I looked back at him, our gazes kept by the gloom of the moon's eyes. "Aoife, what are you doing in my room?" he asked.
