The soft sound of a door opening prompted Tifa to snuggle further into her pillow. Despite being awake when Cloud went to take his shower, she was still clinging to the drowsy, languorous contentment he’d instilled before getting out of bed himself. Dimly she registered the faint creak and slide of louvered hinges, the dull scrape and thud of wood against wood: faint, unrecognizable noises that inched her closer toward stirring. Blinking one eye open, she peered around for the noise maker.
Standing in front of the closet across the room, he was looking through one of the built-in drawers. A pair of faded denims draped over one shoulder, and a towel slung low around his waist, were his only concessions toward modesty.
Both eyes suddenly open and focused, Tifa let all thoughts of drifting back to sleep evaporate. Here was a perfect opportunity to give her boyfriend’s SOLDIER-sculpted body a slow, thorough inspection, and she wasn’t planning to waste it. Lose the towel lose the towel lose the towel, her naughty, hormonal side chanted internally, as her gaze busily took in the expanse of broad shoulders, muscled back, narrow hips, and strong calves exposed to her. Even his feet were sexy.
Quietly pushing the drawer closed again, Cloud tugged at the loose knot at his hip, and dragged the fabric from around his waist to hang it on the nearby door handle.
Lean, tanned muscles flexing and stretching as he moved, he unselfconsciously bent forward to step into a pair of underwear. Biting her lip, she drew in a long, deep breath as the shift gifted her with an unobstructed view of his gloriously taut butt.