All of Aphrodite's towels were deeply fluffy, they wicked the water right out of her hair like they had some kind of magic on them. Towels at home did not do that. Towels at home you used to push the water round till you bullied it off your body. Tragos squeezed a towel around a handful of her hair, soaking up the worst of the drips. "Do you want all your clothes as well, or just the bathrobe?" he asked, leaning forward to give her a crooked smile, and to kiss her naked shoulder. "You know I'm pro just-bathrobe."