Locke doesn't break the moment between us. Instead, he reaches around my waist, turning me gently until I’m facing the white tile wall.
I plant my palms flat against the smooth surface, tilting my head forward and resting my forehead against the tile, flexed and open for him. The contrast of the cool wall beneath my hands and the scalding water rushing over my back makes my pulse hammer all over again.
Locke steps up flush behind me. His massive frame presses firmly against my back, his broad chest crushing against my spine, enveloping me completely in his heat. He reaches around my waist with one heavy arm, pinning my hips securely against his, while his other hand glides down between us.
I reach back reflexively, my hand finding the heavy, pulsing length of him resting against my hip
