You round the corner into the kitchen, bare feet on cool tile, wearing almost nothing — just enough fabric to make the question worth asking. The light catches the curve of your shoulder, the soft line of your waist, the way you move like you already know the answer.

Every room becomes a different kind of dare. The living room, the hallway, the space just outside the bedroom door — each one lit differently, each one watching you differently.

And honestly? You'd never stop. Because the real question isn't what would happen. It's why you waited this long to find out.