A Theatre of Sex

Cursing heartily at her Potions teacher, Hermione took off everything and wrapped a light towel around her nude body. She pushed her negative thought and concentrated on how wonderful she would feel after her bath. What she didn’t expect was Draco Malfoy, stark naked and swimming lazy laps around the already bubbling water.

She had been so shocked; she didn’t even notice her towel slip right from her body and onto the tiled floor.

She gasped.

Draco heard the noise and immediately stopped his laps. He twirled to find her gaping at him. The little brat even had the audacity to smirk and climb out of the tub and Hermione couldn’t help but notice his form.

Water droplets trailed down a muscular back, past a well-rounded tush and thick legs. Muscles rippled underneath the skin from years and years of Quidditch training and his silken-blonde hair glistened with water and steam.

Just where the hell was the ferret boy?

She watched his movement as he reached for the towel rack and plucked on off. His biceps flexed with his movements as he rubbed his head and turned around, still smirking.

Her eyes traveled lower to the sculpted chest and six-pack that were neatly set on his body. Going even lower, she took in his impressive *package*. Her mind told her to look away, but she couldn’t, she was stuck, staring at his thick, pulsating—

Dear Lord, he had a hard-on.

“Like what you see?” Draco purred suddenly. “I know I do.”

Hermione hadn’t even noticed his own eyes raking over her own nude body. She snatched up her towel, raced of the bathroom and dove under the covers, unknowingly giving Draco a long look at her backside on her way out.