Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, lean and firm muscles. When a drop of water from his still-damp hair trickled down from his chest, tracing the lines of his abs before disappearing into the towel wrapped around his waist, Joyce felt her throat go hot and tight.
She cleared her throat and hastily averted her gaze. "Why aren't you wearing any clothes!"
"I forgot to grab my pajamas," Silas said casually, turning to get clothes from the closet.
While his back was turned, Joyce snuck another glance or two.
'My younger brother was right. His body really is my type...'
'When I studied sketching, I'd seen male models in very little clothing. Most of them had great bodies, but my mind was completely focused on artistic creation. Now, though, my head is filled with all sorts of inappropriate thoughts.'
'Joyce Monroe, you've become so depraved!'
'No, wait, it's all my older brother's fault. Why did he have to tell me all that nonsense before bed?'
