illusion that she was in her own comforting, secluded space. She reached for her shampoo but halted her hand before she could take hold of the bottle. Tilting her head, she regarded Zevris’s shampoo. She picked up his bottle, opened it, and sniffed. It smelled of spices and musk, but it wasn’t nearly as good as the man himself.
She’d never smelled anything as masculinely divine as him. If she could replicate his scent and make it into a soap, she’d make a fortune.
Closing the bottle, she returned Zevris’s shampoo to the shelf, grabbed her own, and continued with her shower.
When she was done washing and rinsing herself, she turned off the water, wrung out her hair, and opened the shower door to grab a towel. The towel was surprisingly soft and large—large enough to wrap around her entire body without leaving the annoying gap her shorter towels always did. She dried off and stepped out onto the rug.
Tabitha froze.
Her clothes were gone. In their place was her black satin and lace camisole and those black and hot pink panties Zevris had picked out of her underwear pile, both folded neatly.
“I’m going to kill him.” She clenched her fingers around the towel. “You pervert!”
Despite the closed door between them, Zevris’s laughter carried to Tabitha clearly; it was deep, rich, and rolling, at once good natured and tantalizingly wicked.
“I’m going to double kill him.”
Tabitha pressed her lips together as anger simmered within her, but that furious heat was swiftly accompanied by heavy dread and self-loathing.
Zevris had come into the bathroom.
Zevris had come into the bathroom while she’d been showering! The locked door hadn’t stopped him at all, and she’d neither seen nor heard him.
But he…he’d seen her. He’d seen her.
It didn’t matter that his vision of her must’ve been distorted by the foggy glass, the shadow of her body was enough.
She opened her towel and looked at herself in the mirror, focusing on every imperfection; the extra roll on her sides, her not-so-flat stomach, the silvery stretch marks marring her belly, hips, and thighs. Old, hurtful words, words she’d tried so hard to forget, echoed in her head.
Just wanted to see what it was like with a fat girl.
You’re too soft and jiggly. You’re lucky I got it up to begin with.
Her last boyfriend had even hooked up with other women because Tabitha just hadn’t been enough for him. Or, in his words, she’d been too much. Too big.
Tabitha shoved back those memories, that old pain, crammed it all into a mental box and buried it as deep as she could. There was plenty to worry about in the present without digging all that crap up.
She pulled on the panties and cami and wrapped the towel around herself, tucking the end in tight. Once her hair was brushed, she stepped out of the bathroom.
Zevris was sitting on the end of the bed, his long legs spread and his torso leaned back, propped up on his arms. He’d removed his sweatpants, leaving him clad only in a pair of green boxers. Almost every little bit of him was exposed for her viewing pleasure. His tail lay atop the bed, curled to one side, its tip flicking lazily.
Tabitha stilled as she ran her gaze down his body. His thighs and calves were muscular, and even his freaking feet were perfect with their long toes and short black claws.
“Why are you wearing the towel, Tabitha?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.
She snapped her eyes up to meet his. He had one eyebrow arched, and his lips were slanted in a crooked smile.
“Because someone took my clothes,” she said.
“I left clean clothes in their place.”
Heat engulfed her cheeks. “They can barely be called clothes.” She glared at him. “And I locked the door. You shouldn’t have even come in!”
“My female required clean clothing to wear after her shower. I simply acted to accommodate her needs.” He ran his gaze over her body slowly, deliberately, and it was so hot and heavy that she almost felt it on her skin. “Take off the towel, Nykasha.”
Tabitha tightened her grip on the towel, shook her head, and took a step back. “No.”
Zevris sat forward, abdominal muscles rippling, and stood up. His eyes remained on Tabitha as he stalked toward her, his stride smooth, graceful, leisurely—like a predator advancing on prey that could not escape.
She backed away as he neared, but it was only a moment before her back was against the wall. He placed his hands on the