Tianna's legs were still weak, her knees wobbly, but his strength steadied her.
For a moment, their bodies were close—too close. And she looked into his eyes, expecting heat, lust, dominance.
But there was none.
There was only cool control.
Ross turned away and began to shower, casually, as though nothing significant had happened at all.
He poured soap into his palm and lathered it across his powerful body, the muscles of his back shifting as he moved.
He reached for the shampoo, massaging it into his thick, dark hair, the suds clinging to him before sliding down his torso.
And Tianna just stood there—silent, unmoving, cold.
She felt like a ghost now, watching him, trying to process what she had become in that moment.
The heat between her legs still lingered, her nipples still ached beneath her soaked bra, and yet inside… she was falling apart.
Disappointment welled in her chest, tight and confusing.
