Satisfied with his handiwork, he turned and strode back into the bathroom, where his mother was lying blissfully content in the foamy tub. Her eyes were closed and her face was placidly serene, with a soft smile turning up the corners of her full mouth. Stray tendrils of steam drifted up from the surface of the tub. The sight of it made Elliott smile inside as the thought occurred to him as to whether the steam was coming from the water, or right up from his mother's smoking-hot body beneath. He laughingly decided it was probably a combination of both.

"There you are, sweetheart," his mother said, opening her eyes....