“Tierney.” Bronx’s voice cuts through the darkness.
The shower room door opens, and faint emergencylighting bleeds in.
“You okay?” he asks. “The storm must have cut the power.”
I hate that my first instinct is relief that he’s here.
“No shit, Sherlock,” I hiss at him, teeth chattering.
“I’m coming to get you.”
“Don’t bother. I’m fine.”
Of course he doesn’t listen. I can hear his sneakers on the tile.
“You screamed. Thought you might be scared of the dark.”
“You’d scream if your shower water was freezing.”
Another crack of thunder rolls outside, and the whisper-soft emergency lighting flickers just as he appears before me, still dressed in his gym gear, although this time, the shadows give him a lethal vibe, like a man who’s coming for blood.
My breath stutters, whether from the cold or him, I’m not sure.
He steps into the shower with me as the water temperature goes from freezing to lukewarm.
“Get the hell out,” I snap, shoving him with my shoulder.
He doesn’t budge, his silhouette cutting through the soft haze. I hear the wet slap of fabric as he fists his top, yanks it up and over his head in one rough motion.
The shirt lands somewhere behind him, and his hands drop to his shorts, shoving them down fast and kicking them off his ankles.
Now he’s naked, heat rolling off him in waves that clash with the tepid spray. The faint light glints off the water sluicing down his skin, andGod help me, I want to take a bite.
“I said get out.” I press my hands to his warm chest and push.
He catches my wrists in an iron grip, pinning them against the cold tile above my head. His body crowds mine, trapping me between him and the wall.
Water pounds down between us, rivulets tracing paths over our skin. His thick dick presses against my stomach, and I hate the way my thighs clench in response.
“You’re late on your end of the deal,” he growls, voice a rumble and edged with that smug certainty that makes me want to slap him.
“Every day. Shower with me. That’s what you agreed to when I made you smile. Time to pay up.”
My laugh is throaty, and a little choked.
“One stupid smile and you think that means I owe you? I told you before I won’t fall for your games. There’s nothing happening between us.”
“Liar.” He leans in closer. “You wanted to kiss me again last night. I know you did. Just surrender to it, wife.”
A shiver runs through me when his coarse jaw scrapes my cheek.
“And for the record, a Viacava is always true to their word. Our shower deal is watertight,” he muses.
I twist against him, trying to wrench free. “Yeah, you won’t be laughing when you realize showering with me ends in you getting hurt.”
Our bodies collide, wet skin rubbing together, my breasts crushing against his solid chest, hips grinding as we wrestle.
“Come on then, hellcat,” he rasps. “Do your worst.”
