Zayela stood there, framed in the doorway, wearing only a towel. It wasn’t wrapped carelessly; it was tight, holding just enough to cover her, but her body pushed the limits.
Her voluptuous breasts strained the top, pulling it forward and up so her thighs were almost fully exposed. Just a little more and he’d see everything. If she turned, he was sure the curve of her ass would be slipping out the back.
She stepped into the small room, the plush carpet muffling her footsteps, and his heart began to hammer in his chest.
For a few seconds, he just stared.
"Wha-what are you doing?" Nash stuttered, his eyes wide and his mouth agape.
Zayela’s expression tightened for a moment; she held the towel tighter, and not before Nash caught a glimpse of her bare shoulder and the swell of one breast.
"I just thought, after your... long day, you might want some company," she said, her voice wavering. "It’s just a bath. Nothing more."
She was confident enough to step in, but he could see the hesitation in her eyes. Her gaze flicked over him, trying not to linger, but she kept looking back—at his chest, his shoulders, the water sliding down his arms.
"I don’t... I don’t need help," Nash said quickly.
His pulse was already spiking, not from the heat but from the danger of the situation. The system’s eight-hour restriction was still in place, and beyond that, despite every strange event between them in those past days, even though he tried to ignore it... she was his cousin. That line in his head hadn’t been crossed from the beginning, and maybe it was why the system kept cockblocking him when it was about Zayela.
"You look like you do," she said, shifting her weight.
The move pulled the towel tighter across her chest, making it ride higher on her thighs. Her breathing hitched, like she wasn’t sure she should be here at all.
"Zay, I don’t think this is a good idea," Nash managed to say, his eyes darting from her face to the floor and back again. "We’re... we’re cousins." He hesitated.
If she got in, they’d both be naked. No towel, no excuse. Just bare skin in the same water. And there wasn’t enough space for two people, so one of them would be out.
It would be terrible if she saw his third leg showing who’s the boss.
His mind kept flashing between the idea of turning her down and the picture of her dropping that towel. Five hours earlier, he would have invited her. Hell, he would have made sure to lock the door and throw away the key.
But this Nash was walking like a duck because he misunderstood recovery and endurance.
"Why would you be bothered?" she asked suddenly, a forced laugh under her voice. "It’s just a bath, Nash. It’s not like I’ve never seen you without a shirt before. We’re practically siblings."
As if it would make it better. Her eyes searched his, a mix of hope and confusion.
"That’s... even worse," he said, avoiding her eyes. "Zay... we’re not kids anymore."
"What, because you’ll see me naked?" she said, a little sharper, but he could see the nervousness in the way she gripped the towel’s edge. "It’s just a bath. You’re acting like it’s a crime."
He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. Zayela bit her lip, her eyes drifting down to his crotch, the way he tried too hard to cover it.
She wasn’t dumb enough to not notice and understand. At most, it gave her a little bit of confidence.
"Look, I know you’re tired," she said, her voice softer now. "But I just wanted to help you relax. That’s all."
Something in him gave way. His mind raced. He knew he couldn’t have sex for another eight hours, but being naked together in such a small space? With freaking Zayela?
It was playing with fire, and they were both soaked in gasoline.
"I don’t know, Zay," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "It just feels weird."
Her shoulders drooped, and she took a step back, the towel slipping a centimeter, exposing more of her skin.
"I... I see... I’m sorry," she murmured, looking down. "I just... I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. I’m just so happy for you, and I want to share in your victory."
He stared at her, his mind tangled in knots. He knew this was dangerous; every instinct told him to stop, his system told him to pause, but then he thought about who she was. It was Zayela for good’s sake. The one who had pushed him forward, who had never abandoned him, who had kept them going until he could carry them both.
Could he really reject her now? He imagined the courage it must have taken for her to come here like this. If he turned her down, how would they be after?
He didn’t need the system to tell him the triggers; he knew hers too well by now. With a long, heavy sigh, he felt the fight leave him and slowly nodded.
"Wait... Fine," he said, his voice gruff. "But just a bath."
Her eyes widened in surprise before melting into a bright, relieved smile. She stepped in with a sudden burst of energy, faking a playful confidence as she teased.
"Of course, it’s just a bath. What else could you be thinking about?"
She turned to close the door, and in that moment, Nash’s breath caught, just enough of the towel shifted to give him a quick, undeniable view of the lower curve of her plump, round ass cheeks.
He swallowed hard against the heat rising in him.
The door clicked shut, the lock announcing that there was no return now.
Both of them knew they had just stepped over a line that couldn’t be ignored.
The bathroom was tiny, almost claustrophobic, with the only real feature being a standing shower and a small, square bathtub that Nash could barely fit into.
The walls were a pale blue, the tiles cold and stark under the bright lights above, the only concession to luxury a thick, fluffy rug underfoot to keep them from slipping.
The water was already steaming, the smell of mint and eucalyptus filling the room as the jets bubbled away.
Zayela stepped closer, her eyes on his, her heart racing. A step closer, and the heat of her skin mingled with the steam.
She was playing it cool, but Nash could see the nerves in her fingers as they worked the knot in her towel.
She talked fast, her words tumbling over each other as she tried to distract them both from the moment.
"So, the contract," she said, her voice a little shaky. "It’s really amazing, Nash. This is going to change our lives. I can’t believe it."
Her voice carried that mix of pride and disbelief, but her hands were moving, loosening the knot at her chest.
Nash’s eyes flicked down, his gaze snagging on the plump curve of her thigh as she shifted. He forced his attention back to her face, his jaw tight.
"Yeah," he said, his voice gruff. "It’s... pretty amazing."
The water sloshed around him as he adjusted his position, trying not to let his cock betray his arousal. It was a losing battle. The sight of Zayela in that tight towel, the smell of her, it was all too much.
Nash forced his gaze away, fixing it on the wall. Seriously, had anyone ever painted a wall with more passion? You’d think every brushstroke was a love letter. He tried counting atoms... Then, the soft sound of fabric slipping pulled him back.
The towel had dropped.
For a second, the air left his lungs.
Zayela’s body was a masterpiece. Her hips had this perfect sweep, all soft confidence leading down to thighs that looked like they could crush watermelons or cradle you to sleep, depending on her mood.
Her stomach was flat, but with that hint of muscle that meant she probably did more than just yoga.
And above... the end of the world. Her breasts were just... outrageous.
Huge, full, somehow defying gravity and common sense, riding high on her chest. Every breath made them bounce just a little, mesmerizing, like they had their own rhythm.
They caught the light, glowing with a slick sheen from the steam, and the way her amber skin stretched over those curves made his mouth dry.
Her large, dark areolas stood out against that glistening skin, crowned by thick, erect nipples that seemed to point directly at him with shameless intent.
He could barely rip his gaze away, totally lost in the way they moved, alive and inviting, impossible to ignore.
Her skin glistened under the steam, every line of her body drawn in heat and shadow.
Nash was so hard it was almost painful. He had to literally tear his eyes away from her body and force himself to look up, just to try and get a grip.
Big mistake. She was already watching him, totally aware of where his head was at. Not just catching him, more like calling him out with those eyes.
It was like she knew exactly what was going on in his brain, and she wasn’t shy about it, either.
There was this wild mix in her stare, hope, maybe a tease, maybe both. He swallowed, tried to play it cool, but the heat in his chest just kept climbing.
She caught that, too, and grinned, a little more sure of herself, like she’d just won a silent bet. And honestly? She probably had.
She stretched, lifting her arms to run her fingers through her hair. The motion arched her back, pressing her chest forward so her breasts swelled and lifted, heavy and full, moving a bit with gravity doing its thing.
Seriously, they were unreal and not even pretending to be shy. The way she moved, they had this little bounce, like their own secret rhythm.
Couldn’t blame himself for the way his heart jumped. And her armpits? Smooth as anything. She was just... laid out, open, like she wanted him to see every inch, but playing it off like it was nothing.