Valerie returned from the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel, the soft terry cloth absorbing the excess moisture. Greg followed behind her, his hair dripping, tiny droplets glistening on his skin.
"Come, let me dry your hair so you don't catch a cold," he said, his voice low and gentle, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
Valerie's heart skipped a beat as he hugged her from behind. She could feel his length poking her from the rear. She handed him the towel, their fingers touching, sending a spark of electricity through her.
"Sit," he instructed, guiding her to the stool before the vanity. Greg began to gently blot her hair, his touch soothing. Valerie closed her eyes, letting out a contented sigh. The warmth of his hands, the gentle pressure, felt heavenly.
As he worked, Greg's chest brushed against her shoulder, his skin radiating heat. Valerie's pulse quickened, her senses heightened.
