“Owww,” I hiss, as my body adjusts from ice to heat. “This might actually kill me.”
“Worth it,” Nate says, voice low beside my ear. His hands slide to my hips under the spray, anchoring me as the water washes away the last of the snow.
We stand there for a minute, just breathing. The sound of the water fills the space. His chest presses lightly against my back. My heart hammers, not from cold now, but from something entirely different.
“Ally,” he murmurs, mouth close to the wet curve of my shoulder. “Are you still OK with… this?” His thumbs stroke over my hipbones, careful. “With me?”
I turn in his hands, water slicking down both of us, and look up into his face. His hair is plastered to his forehead, eyes dark and open.
“Yes,” I say clearly. “Definitely.”
Relief flickers through him like someone cut his strings. His hand lifts to cradle the side of my neck, thumb brushing my jaw.
“Then I really hope cabin rule four covers shower sex,” he whispers as he leans in, even as his other hand slides lower to curve around the swell of my ass. I meet him halfway, kissing him hard, the tile cool at my back, the water hot at my shoulders, his body a solid, blazing line pressed to mine.
“Yes,” I murmur against his mouth. “I’m sure it does.”
The second fuck is nothing like the first.
The first had been all urgency, years of hunger finally unbottled. This is slower, lazier, wrapped in laughter and steam and relishing touch and a sense ofwe’re really doing this, aren’t we?
He takes his time, mapping my body with hands and mouth, tasting me like he can’t believe I’m real. I thread my fingers into his wet hair and pull, drawing a groan from deep in his chest that makes my toes curl.
“Turn around for me,” he whispers against my throat.
I brace my hands on the slick tile, heart pounding, the spray hitting my chest as he presses in behind me, kissing the nape of my neck, my shoulder, the line of my spine.
“Tell me,” he murmurs, sliding a hand between my thighs, finding me already aching, ready. “Tell me you still want it.”
“I want it,” I gasp. “I wantyou.”
He grazes his teeth along the point where my neck meets my shoulder, making me shiver, and sinks into me slowly, carefully, his hands gripping my hips like I’m the only real thing in the world.
The sound that tears out of me is half moan, half laugh of disbelief.
Outside, the snow lies quiet, our naked angels stamped into it.
Inside, my palms rest flat on the tile, his chest pressed to my back. Every thrust is a slow, deliberate brand, heat wrapped in heat, the water pounding a rhythm we fall into without thinking.
“Ally,” he groans against my ear. “God, you feel -”
“Don’t stop,” I choke out, rocking back into him.
He doesn’t. He holds me so steady that I relax completely, one arm banded around my waist, the other sliding down to where we’re joined, fingers circling, pressing, coaxing exactly where I need them.
I come, hard, with my forehead against the tile, a raw sound scraping out of my throat, everything in me clenching around him and dragging him over the edge right after me. He shudders, burying a groan in my shoulder, hips stuttering, holding me tight until the tremors pass.
For a long moment we just stand there, breathing hard, water cascading over both of us, my legs shaky, his chest heaving against my back.
Finally he eases out, both of us hissing through our teeth at the drag. Then he turns me gently and kisses my forehead, my nose, my lips, like he’s grateful and sorry and astonished all at once. “Rule four,” he says hoarsely, “we definitely don’t forget this.”
We stay in the shower until the hot water threatens to run out, then stumble back to the bedroom wrapped in towels, skin humming, hair damp, bodies boneless.
Outside, the snow keeps our secret. Inside, the cabin feels less like a hiding place and more like a suspended moment in time.
Temporary, I remind myself.
For now.
