ZACH POV.
I brace my hands against the shower wall, head bowed under the scalding spray. Water beats down my back, but it does nothing to cool the fire under my skin. Every time I close my eyes I’m right back between her thighs.
I grit my teeth and wrap a fist around my c**k, stroking hard as if I can punish the need out of my body. It only makes it worse. The memory of her taste floods my mouth. I can still feel the phantom pull of her hand in my hair, demanding more, and my hips jerk into my fist with a rough, helpless thrust.
A low groan tears out of me.
The thought that I almost took her innocence in the middle of all this haunts me. Doesn’t matter how much I hate her father. I couldn’t do that to her.
My hand keeps moving anyway. I f**k into my fist and chase the memory of her c
