Daphne shrugged again. Potter was sure being difficult. Was she fighting it too? If so, why? Did she have the same restraint Daphne did? It seemed odd, but maybe she did. Daphne gained a hint of respect for the other girl. “It just seems to prohibit you from what you’d want to do,” she said, careful to assure she spoke in a way that implied a double meaning.
Seeing Harriet go to get up, Daphne wasn’t about to let that happen. Sliding over quickly, she rested her hands on Harriet’s naked thighs to hold her in place. “We both know that’s not the reason,” she whispered in a husky tone.
She looked up at Harriet from the water, her dark eye makeup running just a little and her hair plastered back on her head. Daphne wore a sheen of sweat and bubbles. The water and soap hid her most intimate areas but there was still lots of naked flesh for Harriet to see.
“I’ve liked you looking at me,” Daphne breathed. “Just admit it. You have been looking, haven’t you?”