“She drank in the sight of him, sure that anything so perfect had to be a dream. He seemed bigger with just a towel wrapped around his waist. It was amazing what wonders clothing could hide. Over six feet of long muscled male. Bronzed skin, lightly dusted with hair seemed to glow as he walked towards her. He moved like an athlete. Strong, confident strides that ate up the distance between them in no time. Her hands wanted to touch him, anywhere, everywhere. His impossibly flat, firm stomach seemed to call out for her mouth to trace the ridges; her tongue eagerly memorizing every smooth, muscled inch. “Lose the towel.” She wasn’t asking, she was pleading. Jack let the cloth fall to the floor. Eyes wide Rose gasped. Mother Nature had been very kind to Jack Winston, and she was about to be a very grateful beneficiary. “Rose, sweetheart,” Jack stepped back when she would have touched him. “Oh, come on, Jack,” she groaned in frustration. “I’ve been a very good girl. Now it’s time for my reward.”