Water gleamed on the sculpted planes of Jian Ci's shoulders, tracing the deep groove of his spine. Every muscle was defined, from the powerful sweep of his lats down to the tantalizing dip just above his ass.
The water ran in rivulets over the curve of his buttocks, and Yu Xi's mouth went dry. A feverish heat ignited under his own skin, burning through his veins. He wanted to touch. God, he wanted to touch.
He wanted to slide his palms over every wet, hard inch, to follow those water trails with his fingertips, to dig his hands into that firm, perfect ass and pull Jian Ci against him.
He stepped into the shower. The spray was off, but the tiles were slick, the air heavy and wet. He picked up the rough, woven scrub cloth and poured a stream of body wash onto it, working it into a lather. The sound was obscenely loud in the quiet.
The mist swirled between them, thick with tension. Seeing that Yu Xi hadn't moved in a long while, Jian Ci spoke, his voice dripping with playful tone.
