Brody stood with his pants down at his ankles and had his hands balled into fists again. He looked to the bathroom and saw nothing but steam. Heather had gotten into the shower, the water rushing all over her beautiful naked body like wild rain. “Fuck,” Brody growled. He looked down at himself. He shook his head. He knew the troubles of getting attached or getting in too deep with things. But fuck, he was a man. Coming into the room, his plan was to rip through Heather’s personal shit and hope to find something that would distance herself from the asshole dealing drugs in Frelen. The last thing he expected was for Heather to come walking out of the bathroom holding a towel to her body. Just a fucking towel. And only covering the front of her fucking body. Brody took a breath and kicked off his boots. He stepped from his jeans and went to the bathroom. He took care of the evidence from he and Heather fucking, then set his eyes to the shower. Most of his relationships were based on hours rather than years.
