Natalya pushed the wheelchair toward the bathroom, her movements stiff, her knuckles white around the handles. The air between us crackled with tension, the memory of our earlier exchange still hanging heavy in the silence.
The bathroom was still damp from her shower, the floor glistening under the fluorescent lights. My gaze flicked to the counter—and froze.
A black lace bra and matching panties were draped over the sink, the same ones Natalya had been wearing earlier. The sight sent a jolt through me, and I couldn't help but stare for a second too long.
Natalya followed my gaze and stiffened instantly. "Close your eyes," she snapped, her voice sharp with sudden panic. "Now!"
I obeyed without hesitation, shutting my eyes tight. Behind me, I heard her move quickly—the rustle of fabric, the soft sound of her snatching up the lingerie. A moment later, her voice came again, slightly breathless. "You can open your eyes."
