Lionel typed furiously on the spare laptop he'd borrowed from Katherine. His inbox was overflowing, and his phone wouldn’t stop buzzing with calls. He mentally cursed Katherine for kidnapping him. But the second she stepped out of the bathroom, any irritation he had dissolved like sugar in water. She wore tiny booty shorts and a crop top, her hair still damp from the shower. Lionel’s eyes landed on a single water droplet trailing slowly down from her throat, disappearing between the valley of her breasts. His mouth went dry. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure a glass of water would quench this thirst—the kind he felt could only be eased by the woman now blissfully unaware of the effect she was having on him.