“Aaargh!” she screamed, using the clothes to block her line of sight. “Vinson! Are you an exhibitionist?”

“Hah…” A playful chuckle escaped his lips. “See for yourself if I’m one.”

Half doubtful, Arielle lowered her hands slightly, catching a glimpse of his chiseled chest. The fog did nothing to dampen those alluring abs plastered on his body, a masterpiece produced from years of working out. Each line seemed to be crafted to perfection.

It took her about two seconds to realize she had been ogling his chest. Flustered, she shut her eyes tight. “You clearly are! You’re not even wearing anything.” A mottled pink flush covered her cheeks.

Argh… Why did I look when he told me to!

“Don’t just stare at my chest. Look down. I am wearing something,” he replied softly.

Vinson was speaking the truth. He had on a pair of boxers, but Arielle refused to look lest she got tricked by him again.

acted like a douchebag, watching

one.

words from

clothing

amused by her flustered behavior. Never had he expected that beneath the

though this marriage did not result from love, he would still act his part, treating her

her husband, Vinson believed it was his duty to

the mattress on the floor. I can’t

sound of the shower faucet stopped. The brief silence amplified the churning noises

later,

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