The man cleared his throat lightly, restrained his expression, and stood behind her, reaching out to encircle her.
Behind her was the man's warm chest.
She clearly thought this man was quite thin, but standing behind her, his presence was remarkably strong. The warmth, separated by only a few centimeters, made her somewhat uncomfortable.
The man reached out, and through the plastic gloves, held her fingers, her fair fingertips, unconcerned with the grease in the sink, helped her wash a bowl clean.
Daisy Ginger bit her lip and said softly, "Let go of me, I can do it myself."
"There are only a few bowls in our house," the man slowly breathed behind her, "if you break them all, there won't be any bowls to eat with tonight."
"I would never!"
Daisy's small face turned slightly red.
Seemingly on purpose, the man slowed down the dishwashing pace, and Daisy only felt the man's breath brush against the sensitive spot on her neck, again and again.
Bringing her an indescribable thrill.
