She had been picking at the chicken, but the moment she saw him in the towel, her brain sort of... short circuited. There was a piece of meat caught between her finger and thumb, halfway between the drumstick and her mouth, mouth open and eyes fixed on that body covered in nothing but a towel, water droplets, and absolutely no shame.

Jess had given him that gift out of sentiment. Out of... hell, she could admit it to herself; love. But lust was the first thing that came to mind when she looked at him, humming in the back of her throat as she fought to remember that she was doing something.

... What was she doing?